Just weeks after my 28th birthday, I arrived in Burgenland, a wine region south of Vienna, to work at a natural wine domaine.
Fresh off of quitting my full-time job in California, I planned to travel indefinitely, hopping from country to country by way of the wine harvest.
I didn’t have the space, nor the desire, to make room for a serious relationship. Then, I met Lars.
In the sticky August heat, we both arrived on the first morning of harvest at 3 a.m., faceless strangers in the dark. Lars was gentle and curious, with a thick accent that made some words sound unfamiliar, but all of them endearing.
We...
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