Paris, France
I'm not one to drive fast. In fact, I usually prefer to take my time, enjoying the journey as much as the destination.
But three weeks ago, I found myself on the deserted roads of Argentina's Calchaquí Valley — long, straight stretches cutting through the desert, with only the mountains for company, only distant cactuses against which to judge my speed.
Alone in the car, I suddenly realized the speedometer was edging into the red. With no one beside me to say, "Maybe slow down," I was unknowingly pushing the limits.
It scared me; faces of loved ones started flashing through my head. That's the thing about being alone: it can make you reckless. Life's funny that way. Without someone beside us, we can come unmoored without even realizing it. .
Fast forward to now, and I've traded the dust from the valley for the cold October winds of Paris. We are starting to get those first sniffs of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts — a scent that'll only grow stronger as we inch toward Christmas.
It's that time when indoor plans take center stage. Some of you might be flying south, chasing that warm, inviting sun (Milton permit — I hope you are all safe in Florida after the storm). But for those of us sticking around northern climes for autumn, the focus shifts to gathering indoors, kindling not just fires but hopefully friendships.
Many are swapping out their grills for stovetops, and some are even considering "Sober October," a trend popularized by Joe Rogan. But did you know the wine industry has its own counter-movement? They're calling it "Come Over October," a nod to the power of community and connection.
In a moment where elections and conflicts loom, divisions seem sharper than ever. The pandemic left many of us isolated. What began as fear transformed into a lingering loneliness that unfortunately still clings to many.
Just the other night, I met up with an old friend here in Paris. We've known each other for about 15 years, despite our different backgrounds and approaches to life.
We had arranged to meet at a quaint wine bar down the street. Over a bottle of wine, the conversation flowed effortlessly. As we finished the bottle, I found myself saying, "Why don't you come over for dinner?" What started as a simple meetup turned into a spontaneous evening together.
I whipped up something quick. Nothing fancy, but it did the trick. We uncorked a bottle of wine and settled in. What was meant to be a simple meal turned into a five-hour marathon of conversation.
It struck us how rare these unhurried moments have become. Modern connections often feel like quick check-ins rather than meaningful exchanges. We text, we like posts, we might even have a brief call, but how often do we sit down and truly engage? It's like taking a few sips of a fine wine, missing out on its depth because we're in too much of a hurry.
Much like conversation, wine reveals its layers over time. The first sip might give you a hint of its character, but it's only after you let it breathe, swirl it around, that you truly appreciate its complexity. Sharing a bottle with someone allows for that unfolding — for both the wine and the relationship.
That's why I love the idea of "Come Over October." Instead of abstaining this month, why not indulge — in connections, in conversations, in companionship? When I started digging, I was shocked by the numbers. In a time when 58% of American adults are considered lonely, 61% of young adults aged 18-25 report serious loneliness. 30% of Americans aged 18-34 say they feel lonely every day or several times a week. We need this more than ever.
Loneliness isn't just a statistic; it's a silent cancer exacerbated by our reliance on digital communication, changing family structures, and the relentless grind of work-life imbalance.
My moment of solitary recklessness in the Calchaquí Valley serves as a reminder: prolonged isolation can throw us off balance. But it also highlights the remedy — meaningful human connection. It's these shared moments, over a good meal and a bottle of wine, that keep us grounded and remind us of what truly matters.
So here's my invitation. Call that friend you've been meaning to catch up with. Reach out to a sibling. Invite over the neighbor you always see but never speak to. Gather your family for a meal you cook together. Open that special bottle you've been saving for "the right moment." This is the right moment. And if you don't have any, we have plenty of them here!
Let's make a conscious effort to move beyond superficial interactions. Let's have those good, lengthy conversations that leave you feeling enriched. After all, wine is more than just fermented grapes in a bottle. It's a vessel for stories, a bridge between people, a catalyst for connection.
So let's turn this October into something memorable. Let's embrace "Come Over October" and see where it takes us.
Feel free to drop me a line. Share your stories, your thoughts, or how you plan to bring people together this month. Let's raise our glasses not just to good wine, but to the good company that makes it worthwhile.
Cheers,
Diego Samper
