I can't believe it but I have actually done it now.

It caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth and if my four year old daughter is to be believed I was a grump for positively forever having done the deed. The deed in question? Cutting the heads off all the daffodils in the garden? Telling my wife the Sunday roast potatoes were burnt or that her Yorkshire puds were a travesty?

No far worse I am afraid and I hang my head in shame. Yes I bought a bottle of Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc. I'm sorry but I do feel the need to exorcise myself and say it again. I bought a bottle of Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc. Perhaps I should now enrol in whatever the equivalent of Alcoholics Anonymous would be for sufferers of this affliction.

Do I feel better for the experience? Did I get some fantastic rush of adreneline? No I fear it was more akin to spending four hours stuck in single lane traffic behind a muck spreading tractor. I was almost driven to joining the priesthood and denouncing all alcohol and bottled water from henceforth on.

As you may have guessed I am not exactly a fan.

Granted Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc is a fine bottle of wine. It comes in its own glass bottle with a rather neat personal cork, and natty label. If you look really closely you can almost see the exact resemblance to its sister vineyard Cape Mentelle in Western Australia (which I feel at this point I should add is far better and much more drinkable without having to take out a mortgage to buy a case). But at the end of the day the real let down is something I call the 'spirit' or 'soul' of the wine.

However you choose to pour this highly acclaimed liquid gold and to savour its every moment in your possession, it still lacks a certain something.

I like wine to have a life. A 'soul'. Its that moment when you lie back in the armchair, gently cradling a glass of something a little bit special and imagine every stage of its production from luscious grape to concerned winemaker staying up at nights fussing over the latest blended casks, to the sunny days and frosty mornings when all around are concerned about the state of their crop. Put simply it means something. Then as the first taste gently passes from lips to tongue and beyond it positively warms every cell of your body, caressing every silky cell as you close your eyes and enjoy.

Or perhaps its that bottle you've been saving for the family Sunday roast. The chatter at the table just concealing the glugging sound as the bottle is passed around and delivered to each participant in this eagerly anticipated feast. The wine may not be anything special but the occasion is and the refreshments provided all play their part in one of the most engaging aspects of having a family - down time. Its that time when the phones are ignored and the family is together again.

Or maybe its the lonely quest you find yourself on. Assaulting every copy of the yellow pages you can find for the next fine wine merchant that is bound to stock the wine of your dreams. Swearing at google for finding the one merchant that happens to be maintaining his website at three in the morning when your eyes are going round in circles for the umpteenth time. 

Well I have experienced all of the above, in truth on many occasions each memorable for its own reasons.

Yet when I try to buy Cloudy Bay either for a client or myself (in the early days I hasten to add) it has been an unmitigated bore. Either you are forced to listen to some exotic diatripe about how popular the wine is because of course before Cloudy Bay no one had ever heard of Sauvignon Blanc much less New Zealand (some place along way away with a lot of sheep perhaps?) How wonderful it was and of course how difficult it was to source although strangely enough we did just have a case delivered and although I could of course have sold it already a dozen times I might be able to let you have a bottle for perhaps, well..... and so it would go on.

I gave up when advised our annual allocation of this wonderful wine for the year 02/03 would be six  bottles of the Sauvignon Blanc and twelve bottles of the Chardonnay (which of course no one wants).

I am proud of the fact that we sold the few bottle we had for £13.95 and then used the rest as tasting samples in disgust, as well as a great way of advertising the other fantastic Sauvignon Blancs that New Zealand produces. In blind tastings we have yet to get Cloudy Bay higher than fourth - doesn't that tell you something.

But not even this is what really winds me up. No what really winds me up is the way the trade abuse the marketing to cash in on this wine. A case in point. Waitrose Direct offer Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc at £16 a bottle. This is reasonable. I had to pay £29.75 for the bottle I am using at our tasting. I don't believe this discrepancy has anything to do with the fuel crises, rising duty, the fluctuating exchange rate, rising bottle prices or the fact that Boris Johnson may be the next London Mayor. Nope its good old fashioned profiteering and its WRONG. Not just inexcusable but downright WRONG. I can think of no other wine that is abused in such a fashion and please don't repeat this in public but I actually feel quite sorry for the Cloudy Bay winery as everyone is making a mint out of this wine except them. Oh and us because we're daft.

So after a ripping ten minutes I think you may have a little more understanding as to why you'll never find a bottle of Cloudy Bay on our shelves for sale. What you will find is loads of more than suitable alternatives at sensible prices.
The good news? You can try some of them and the Cloudy Bay in a blind tasting in the shop on Thursday.

Your feedback and thoughts about the comparison will be gratefully received and you never know I have been known to change my mind on occasion....