Retirement gap year

We were taken by yves to the area where he lives. First we stopped at a Heurige overlooking the vineyards in a touristy village and had a glass of wine. Paul and I drank the mixed wine( Yves pointed out that this is not strictly speaking blended wine but was a blend of usually three types of grape grown next to each other in the vineyard, this means it is different every year). He told us that since the anti freeze in the wine scandal, Austria has much tighter laws about what can be put into wine and nowadays Austrian wine is some of the purest in the world. As it was now raining we jumped back into the car and drove to a quiet rural spot.
We all emerged from the car looking dubiously at the clouds, but the rain had stopped and we followed Yves along a tiny country road where he stopped at a small double door in what looked like a tiny house. He ran up to the roof of the building via some stairs and rummaged in a secret spot for the key to the door. The giant key led into what looked like a hobbit hole. It was a primitive cellar for wine which had been dug out with simple farming tools centuries ago and had been used by one family to store their wine. Yves had bought the cellar when it became empty and now stored some Belgian beer in it and used the patioed roof area for summer picnics and barbecues. The cellar was cold and still had the slightly musty winy smell of oak barrels although there were none to be seen.
Having admired his cellar, we continued to walk up the lane and there were many many more, some in a good state of repair and many deserted and abandoned. After this we drove to what at first appeared to be an abandoned village in the middle of fields of vineyards, this was an entirely different Kellergasse as the cellars appeared to be much larger even though the cobbled street looked barely wide enough for a horse and cart to drive along and there was almost a lawn occupying its centre ground.
We walked up the first of the three tiny streets, stopping to marvel at the doors and glimpses of wine presses through the abandoned, often open, portals.
After a few of these we encountered one that appeared to be fully operational and whilst marvelling at its contents we became aware that it was indeed used and the owner was just below us in the gloom of the far cellar. Yves greeted him and apologised for our nebby behaviour, but the man was not in the least perturbed and called us down to taste his wine.
After introductions had been made, we all watched in fascination as he sucked a quantity of wine out of the barrel with a special long glass tube with a spherical top which held the wine to be tasted. He dished out glasses and we all tasted. The wine was the 2016 blend but he was somewhat vague as to its grape heritage. It was White wine and very cold without a hint of any yeasts and had a pleasant flavour. We of course, had to sample another glass and we were becoming quite jovial as all this wine was on a very empty stomach.
We then said our goodbyes and made our way back to the village where Yves lives with his wife and dog. We enjoyed a very convivial evening and ate some traditional Austrian food.
We took the train back to the hotel.Les mer