Battlegrounds make the best bars.
Wars make the best parties.
And Rioja provides the best wine tourism.
By nine o’clock in the morning, Spanish time, I was half-man, half-marinade. I was completely pickled. My hair had turned a dark velvet and my clothes were splattered blood red. I gave off the unmistakable bouquet of blackcurrants and baked plums with maybe just a hint of cinnamon.
I was engaged in close-contact hand-to-hand fighting of the most enjoyable kind.

To read the full article by Kevin Pilley visit luxebeatmag.com.