Before Covid, I went on a press trip to the Mosel. On the itinerary was a grape picking session. I assumed this would consist of a leisurely trip into the vineyards to see how grapes were harvested followed by a leisurely lunch. Instead, at 6am we were bundled into a transit van along with a motley crew of Romanians, Syrian refugees and students, and put to work on the treacherous slate slopes picking Riesling on a cold, damp October morning. For six hours. I don't think I have ever worked so hard in my life.
Later, one of the producers explained how difficult it was to get pickers. There weren't enough skilled Bulgarians and Romanians to go around. Which made me think: was the trip simply a cunning way of getting free labour?
If the Germans are struggling, spare a thought for English vineyard owners. Like much of Europe, they relied on East Europeans, but they have been thin on the ground since Britain left the EU in 2020. They haven't quite resorted to using journalists yet, but vineyards have had to be creative when it comes to finding labour.
Yotes Court in Kent is offering a "harvest experience" where you get the pleasure of picking grapes with some lunch and wine for £45. Yes, you're actually paying to work. Others are utilising local labour. Mark Driver founder of Rathfinny in Sussex said they have had 300 applicants for 100 places, paying a healthy £12.50 an hour. He added: "I have been hearing the same thing as you, that it's difficult to get contract pickers from the gangmasters. They seem to be tied to certain large producers like Nyetimber and Chapel Down."
According to Henry Sugden, CEO of contract winemaker Defined Wine: "The bigger vineyards do rely on bigger teams and these are increasingly coming from Nepal or Indonesia." Fergus Elias, head winemaker from Balfour in Kent, uses a mixture of locals with a smattering of workers from Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan who are over to pick apples.
He added that they "do need to come through a Sedex-approved site." Sedex, or 'Supplier Ethical Data Exchange' ensures, at least in theory, that labour will be properly paid and treated ethically unlike some overseas pickers. An investigation by the Guardian discovered that workers were being charged exorbitant deposits for their working visas by agencies in Jakarta. Though I should hasten to add that none of them were linked to wine producers.
The situation is far worse in Champagne, which has been rocked by a series of scandals involving workers mainly from sub-Saharan Africa being housed in squalor, not being paid or fed adequately. In 2023, four workers died during a heatwave. Le Monde reported this year how one employer in the region has been "accused of human trafficking, exploiting seasonal workers and housing them in appalling conditions during the 2023 grape harvest."
Part of the problem is the distance between producers and workers. Many producers, rather than dealing directly with a gang of pickers as they would have done in the past, now work through agencies like Banton Lauret. According to Gavin Quinney, who runs Château Bauduc in Bordeaux, if you need pickers to arrive at a certain time, it's easier using an agency. He's lucky in that he works with a small local outfit run by a Moroccan man with whom he has a long-term relationship.
Technically the workers should be protected by French law, paid the minimum wage of €12, housed and fed, though he did add that it is "bloody hard work", especially with temperatures hitting 40°C in August. Interestingly, Quinney didn't think there was a labour shortage in Bordeaux.
In contrast, Jonathan Hesford, founder of Domaine Treloar in the Roussillon, has found it hard to find pickers. "We've tried to use temp agencies who are supposed to supply workers on a daily basis, but that proved more unreliable than hiring people directly," he said. Meanwhile, many locals want to be paid in cash.
He added: "There are too many French people who are claiming some form of welfare or unemployment benefit that they don't want to lose by taking a temporary job, but they are happy to work 'on the black'."
He has also had problems with the authorities. One year the police arrested two workers with Italian papers who were allegedly Albanians, "running an illegal passport business." The police demanded to know where he had hired them from. "They were the only pickers that had been sent to me by the state-run Pôle Emploi," Hesford said.
Over in the US, the wine industry could not function without illegal labour. For years, workers from Mexico and elsewhere were allowed to work without people asking too many questions, or were even encouraged. One Sonoma producer said: "Years ago we passed immigration reform under Reagan that gave workers in agriculture a pathway to become legal."
However, the situation is now very difficult with the Trump administration cracking down on immigrants. The man I spoke to preferred to remain anonymous because he was "not willing to risk an ICE [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] raid on our neighbours or workers right before harvest."
And with good reason: in June, an Oregon vineyard manager, Moises Sotelo, was arrested outside church. Just one of many workers rounded up by ICE. So far Sonoma and Napa seem to have been left alone, however. The anonymous producer described what was going on as "theatrics, domestic terrorism, making Americans and so-called "illegals" afraid."
California works very differently to Europe. The workers are not itinerant; they work locally, all year round, often in construction during the winter. Despite not being technically permitted to work, they pay social security and taxes. The Sonoma producer added: "The unfortunate reality is if they [the government] wanted not to have illegals, they would go after employers. It's wink and a nod, follow the money." He was also shocked about what was going on in Champagne and insisted that, on the whole, workers in California are paid and treated well.
With all the difficulties of using humans, it's no wonder that many are turning to machines, which are common in France and used increasingly in England and even in the Mosel. In Germany I was treated to a demonstration of the latest generation of picking machines: terrifying examples of Teutonic efficiency that thundered down the steep slopes with an uncannily steady tread.
But will anyone need such machines in future? As the Sonoma winemaker put it: "There is no picking crisis because of ICE in California. The threat is more economic, given the downturn. No one wants our grapes." Indeed, many unpicked English grapes during the bumper 2023 harvest were down to a lack of demand as much as a shortage of labour.
Finding grape pickers is a problem but finding people to drink the wine is a bigger one. Supply currently outstrips demand and customers are drinking less. Mechanisation is arriving just as grapes become less valuable than the effort required to pick them. There's a cheery thought.

The Great Grape-Picking Crisis
Henry Jeffreys explores how labour shortages, migration policies and mechanisation are reshaping the harvest.

The harvest at Rathfinny