Here's an odd little letter I found in a box of antiques I obtained not so long ago in one of those charity auctions. Strangest thing is that there are no mentions of neither sender nor recipient. It's not that they were blotted out, instead there's a blank space where the names should be.

The note reads as follows:

To _________, Largrasses, France. September 2nd, 1973

My dearest _________,

I cannot begin to tell you how much _________ and I enjoyed our stay at your lovely house. It has been the best holiday we have ever had, and it is all thanks to you, my friend. Hopefully we can convince you to let us return the favor, even if Leeds has little to compare to the sights, sounds and tastes (especially tastes!) of your wonderful land. Nevertheless, perhaps the thought of authentic Yorkshire Pudding and a Sunday Roast could tempt you even if just a bit.

The box of wines arrived yesterday, by the way. You sly dog, knowing we could never accept such a gift you decided to just mail it to us and save the trouble. I must say they are absolutely exquisite, and a wonderful way of getting the neighbors to hear of our adventures. _______ opened a bottle or two last night and everyone thought they were superb.

One thing interests me, though. I had not noticed it, but ________, being the perceptive woman she is, pointed out that even though they are the same Corbieres we had in your company, the label was rather odd. The design itself is nearly identical, with the depiction of the Citadelles du Vertige in the background, though these did not depict the citadel in ruins. Strangest part, though, was the region of the wine. I recall the Chateau Aiguilloux and the Domaine des Pensées Sauvages, but I had never heard of a Corbiere called Per Nesser. I tried asking an old colleague of mine who is very much interested in wines, but he hadn't heard of such a region before, either.

I do hope I am not troubling you too much, _________. The wine is of the best quality and many of my associates speak of their wanting to purchase some of the same wine, hence the interrogation.

Still, whatever this inquiry may bring, at least it gave me the perfect excuse to write to you. Again, many thanks for the hospitality you gave us and I hope you seriously consider visiting us.

Yours,

_______________

I've tried looking for any data on who these people were, but having no names (why leave them blank?), I have found it impossible. For those curious, though, Les Citadelles du Vertige was a castle of the Cathars, and has been in ruins for ages.

Odd, but makes me wonder where those mysterious wines came from.

Update: Good old E.A. Wallis Budge! A Hieroglyph Vocabulary to the Book of the Dead has brought forth a clue. Apparently, Per-neser means House of Fire in Ancient Egyptian. What's Ancient Egyptian doing in a modern wine label? And Nesser? Sounds like if French had evolved not from Latin but from Egyptian to me, but then again, I am no philologist. I know I'm going out on a limb here, but it's the only clue I've managed to find so far.