Tonight I'm writing this from Chinon and, to be honest, it's hard to put today into words.

The first three days of the trip were all about meeting new producers and exploring whether we might work together in the future.

Today was different.

Today was the first day I got to go back and visit producers we've already been working with for a few years, and I wasn't really expecting how much that would affect me.

Looking back through the photos tonight, I realised it wasn't the wines that stuck with me most.

It was the people.

And I think that's what today was really about.

Our first stop was Domaine des Sables Verts, where we spent the day with Caroline and Hervé.

Jess and I first visited them a few years ago when Vintrepid was still in its infancy. We had four-month-old Gus with us, were figuring things out as we went, and had absolutely no idea where the business might eventually take us.

Returning today felt a little surreal.

Domaine des Sables Verts was only the second producer we ever imported, so they'll always hold a special place in the Vintrepid story.

I think if there's one thing I hope comes across in these trip updates, it's that this isn't really just about wine.

The wine is obviously important.

But what we're actually doing is building relationships.

When we arrived, we headed down into their extraordinary cellar, carved into the region's famous tuffeau limestone. It's one of the most beautiful cellars I've ever seen. Walking down the stairs feels almost like entering a cathedral.

But the highlight of the day wasn't underground.

It was sitting around the table sharing lunch.

Caroline and Hervé had friends visiting. There were children running around. Conversations happening in every direction. At one point someone fell over and started crying. At another point we were interrupted mid-tasting by family life unfolding around us.

To be honest, it felt remarkably familiar.

They have two young children.

We have two young children.

They're juggling family life and a growing business.

So are we.

For all the romance people attach to French wine, the reality is much more relatable.

These are normal people with mortgages, children, busy schedules and all the same pressures that most families face.

The difference is that they also happen to make exceptional wine.

Lunch itself was simple and perfect.

A homemade quiche. Beautiful local cheeses. An incredible strawberry tart made by one of their guests that was genuinely one of the best things I've eaten on the trip.

Moments like that are why I never get too excited about Michelin-starred restaurants when I'm in France.

The most memorable meals are usually the simplest ones.

The wines, as always, were outstanding.

Every year since we started importing Domaine des Sables Verts, the wines seem to get a little better.

They're continuing to expand their Chenin Blanc program, although production remains tiny. At the moment they have only around 1.6 hectares of Chenin Blanc planted, producing roughly 5,000 bottles each year.

Demand far exceeds supply.

Like many successful growers, they spend much of their time explaining why they can't sell more wine.

They're also on the final stretch towards full organic certification, something they've been working towards for several years.

What was interesting wasn't just hearing about the wines, but hearing about the journey.

Like many young growers, Caroline and Hervé built the domaine from the ground up. It wasn't easy. There were bank meetings, difficult decisions and plenty of risk along the way.

Now demand for their wines is growing, export markets are taking notice and things are starting to happen.

It's exciting to see because it feels like we've been able to witness part of that journey from the beginning.

After lunch, it was genuinely difficult to leave.

If we'd had nowhere else to be, I think we could have happily stayed all afternoon.

But we had another appointment waiting.

A short drive up the Loire brought us to Domaine de la Marinière, where we caught up with Boris, another producer we've worked with for several years.

Boris represents a different generation of Loire winemaker.

Before returning home to take over the family estate, he worked at Georges Laval in Champagne, one of the pioneers of organic viticulture in the region.

When he returned to Chinon, he brought many of those ideas with him.

The wines continue to improve every year, but what interests me most is how willing he is to challenge convention.

One of the most interesting conversations we had was around bag-in-box wine.

It's not something traditionally associated with premium French wine, but Boris sees the environmental and practical benefits very clearly.

The wines we tasted were excellent, and the sustainability story makes a lot of sense.

Whether we can make something work in Australia remains to be seen, but there were certainly some interesting conversations.

We also tasted several tiny-production wines that rarely leave the cellar.

The sort of wines where only a handful of export markets receive an allocation.

Those are exactly the kinds of bottles that could be perfect for future Vintrepid wine club packs.

By the end of the afternoon we made our way into Chinon, one of the most beautiful towns in France.

Every corner looks like a postcard.

Yes, there are plenty of tourists. But it's easy to understand why.

We finished the day with oysters, charcuterie and a glass of local wine while the town buzzed around us.

As we walked back through Chinon tonight, I found myself thinking less about the wines we tasted and more about the people we spent the day with.

Two years ago they trusted us to represent their wines in Australia.

Today felt like a reminder of why we started Vintrepid in the first place.

Great wine matters.

But it's the people behind it that make it memorable.