Wijngaard Kampenberg

This is the story of a young boy who dreamed of becoming a farmer. A boy who, back when they didn’t all come from the same factory, could recognize any tractor from afar just by its sound. He could already picture himself, leaning contentedly on his pitchfork, gazing over his healthy land.

Something like that. And then he realized that his family wasn’t from a farming background, so maybe he should be a bit more realistic. Perhaps, one day, he’d have a house with a garden, with a tree to look at.

So, the boy went to study and then spent a quarter of a century traveling the world as a photographer.

In his travels, he encountered completely new worlds: the kitchens of Michelin-starred restaurants, car factories, oil rigs, and TV studios. But it was during an assignment in the Champagne region that he realized he might not have to give up his old dream entirely. Viticulture, he thought—why couldn’t that work back home in the Flemish Ardennes? On a hill, sloping slightly to the south? And perhaps planted a bit wider apart to capture all the warmth of the sun?

So, he covered the largest wall in his photo studio with soil maps and set out with boots and a spade to dig pits between corn and potatoes. And he began to study. For years.

Until he knew: it could be done.

And on April 24, 2004, he planted his first 350 vines along the old Roman road from Asse to Kortrijk, and he became a farmer.

A wine farmer—the best job in the world.