Isabella spoke many languages – the language of love, the language of food, the language of wine. Luckily for Isabella, these languages are commonplace amongst the non-English speaking backpackers who frequented the Granite Belt every picking season. After a few awkward ‘oui ouis,’ Isabella broke out her picnic basket, cranked open the wine and shared the regions harvest with her new friends. It was lovely until the moment was interrupted abruptly by the farmer. In the confusion of meeting new people, Isabella had forgotten that the fruit had to be picked BEFORE they could celebrate the harvest. Lesson learned.