Chapter (9) RED WINE & COLA ( Part 3)

The plot thickens.

One evening after work the twins had joined Christian and I as we sat around the bar-b-que enjoying a few laughs and a glass or two. When the conversation turned to the lunch time intrusions of Charles it was unanimous that we all regarded his attention as unwanted.  Somewhere during the evening it was suggested that we should do something to discourage him. By the end of another bottle of cheapish red wine a plan of sorts had been devised, but it would need more thought, more clear headed thought when we were less under the influence of several bottles of wine.

     We had remembered that Charles, the Frenchman, talked often about how much he knew about wines and how he particularly liked Italian wines.

In the boot of Sabino's car were several empty Italian Chianti wine bottles, the only reminder of a weekend trip back home for twins. These had the distinctive ball shape with thin necks and raffia baskets.    Whilst eating, drinking and chatting the four of us had shared a few life moments and I had been telling the lads about my wedding in Poland and how several guests had mixed red wine with Cola to produce a fizzy drink. This also had the appearance of Italian Frizzanti wines. We didn't know it yet but we had all the elements of a great plan.

Over the next few days whenever Charles appeared we would turn the conversation to the twins forthcoming  birthday, and how their family would be sending them a case of the local vintage Frizzanti  so that they could celebrate their birth day in typical Italian style. This was of course all a fabrication as the twins were not due a birthday for several months. Angelino for his part dropped several hints that he was not a fan of sparkling wine and that he would probably sell his share and buy a bottle or two of his favourite Bordeaux instead. The plot was set, all we needed now were some Italian looking labels, the empty bottles, a quantity of cheap red plonk and several litres of Cola.

The following week passed steadily and as Friday night approached we were all looking forward to a long awaited weekend off. Every 4 weeks the rig stopped work and everyone had 2 days to recuperate. I had been known to sleep for 18 hours after a particularly heavy week.

Saturday morning arrived in slow motion. The day broke from routine with very little movement from any of our group until about lunch time. We all needed more sleep and this was a time to recharge the batteries and replenish our weary bodies. After slow showers and a hot meal,  Christian, myself and the twins, climbed into Christians old Green Renault 16 and drove to the local supermarket where we purchased a 7 litre carton of cheap red wine and several bottles of Coka Cola.

Getting the empty bottles cleaned was the easy bit, but making the labels required a computer and a printer. Luckily I had a Polish friend who lived in a mountain village just 20 kilometres from the camp site and I remembered that his son had a small Toshiba computer and printer. Earlier in the week a quick phone call to Roman had secured his help with our little plot.

We once again climbed into Christians old banger and in half an hour we were pulling up outside my friend, Romans' house.  He was only too pleased to help, especially when I gave him a couple of bottles of Chateau de Valpinson '87. A very very good year.

With help from Tomasz we managed to create some rather convincing Italian looking wine labels.  We printed off a dozen copies along with matching neck labels. For the rest of the evening we drank several bottles of vino and ate loads of Magda's excellent Polish cooking. Roman telephoned another Polish friend of his who had a taxi to take us back to the campsite. Christian and I would have to retrieve his car the next day.

            Sunday morning arrived with a headache and as I sauntered off the bakery Christian went into automatic pilot mode. By the time I got back he had two mugs of steaming coffee waiting. Apart from going to fetching Christian's car, and a brief coffee with Roman and Magda, the rest of the day passed in a slow stupor. We did a lot of lazing around and some dozing but very little drinking.  The Dutch girls brought us a huge plate of baked fish with chillies and grilled tomatoes in the evening, which we shared with grateful thanks. We supplied the bread. Tomorrow it all starts again, and for another 4 weeks we would once again fall into a routine of work, eat, drink and sleep.

            I had managed to acquire a dozen plastic bottle cap covers from a local vineyard. I bought a couple of bottles of wine, very good it was too, made out I was a tourist and would love to have some plastic covers as gifts to show my friends back home.  When these are placed over the top of the bottle they cover about 2" of the neck. All we needed now was a hairdryer; I knew the girls had at least a couple so that seemed to take care of that. Heating the capsules would cause them to shrink onto the bottle. We still needed new corks. It turned out you could buy small numbers in plastic packs from any supermarket. To get the corks into the bottles it was necessary to soften them in boiling water first and then they could, with a little difficulty, be pressed into the bottles. We had placed the empty Chianti bottles in a bucket of water containing some bleach. This had the effect of removing the labels and removing some of the stains on the raffia so giving the appearance of being unused bottles. They dried quickly in the sun. That evening twins took the dried bottles away and the next time we saw them they were filled with the Cola and wine mixture and ready for final part of our plan.

            Tuesday morning arrived and at lunchtime the Christian and I joined Sabino in the farthest car park and there in the boot of Sabinos' car was a cardboard box containing 12 bottles of red wine. Using weak tea and other bits of dust and stuff, the brothers had done a remarkable job, making the bottles look as though they had been stored for some time in a cellar. I took one of the bottles in my hand and I was impressed, it wouldn't fool an expert but then, we all knew Charles was no expert.