It was probably horrible. But because it was alcohol and “grown-up” you screwed up your face, gritted your teeth, said “mmm that’s lovely” and got on through it. Just in case you didn’t get another chance and would be forever doomed to drinking squash.
Somewhere along the line you got used to it and discovered that drinking a lot of it made you fall over.
But as fun as falling over may be, you realise after a while you can stop screwing you face up because actually… it’s quite nice.
Now, I like wine. A lot. And over the last few years I’ve started trying to get to know more about it. I can just about tell my Blossom Hill from my Burgundy, but I’ve got a long way to go.
I don’t want to be a wine snob, but I hope that by writing about it and going out and searching out interesting stuff to drink, my Friday night bottle of plonk might be even better.