IT seems that after 20 years of promoting and loving the wine business, I now find myself on the wrong side of the Government health watchdogs.

Alcohol is bad for you, they proclaim. Hogwash, I reply.

No level of alcohol is safe, they shout. Tell that to a Scot, I cry.

But we are only looking out for your good health, they announce. Mind your own sodding business. I retort.

But we know best, they scream. Not according to my pleasure receptors you don’t, I yell. And so the argument goes on.

The Editor and I had convened an urgent COBRA meeting (Cumbrians Opposed to Bureaucratic Ratifications on Alcohol) and we discussed whether continuing this wine column could see either of us being taken on a trip to see the big man in a Black Maria. After much discussion about our abilities to withstand questioning and whether we would have to abandon our families and accept a new life banged up with a Scouse drug dealer named Big Bob, we have bravely decided to take the risk for you, our wonderful readers. However if we are snatched off the street and flown to Guantanamo Bay, please turn out in force and remember the Cumbrian Two, united we stand, while divided we could be forced into writing love letters to Big Bob.

Anyway, regardless of Government pressure, I will fight on in the business, even if I end up loitering outside Costa with a big overcoat on, pockets full of illicit claret while trying to decide if any of my street clients are working for the man. And would possesion of alcohol become an offence or could you say it was merely for personal use? Can you imagine sitting down to a re-run of Downton Abbey with a glass of port and having the front door kicked in by the police?

Then again if alcohol gets banned the bureaucracy will probably be in such a state of political correctness that police decisions will be made by committees rather than officers. They will be forced to consider so many things before signing off on a raid that you should have time to drink the evidence and wash the offending glasses.

The Rum Story would probably be able to continue but without the sale or sampling of rum. Whether coachloads of people would actually want to visit to be lectured on the hazards of the past and how much more beneficial a carrot and turnip smoothie is to your future longevity I don’t know. Then again the cellar under their front shop window could once again be filled with stone bottles of illegal alcohol accessed via the stern assistant who is actually secretly allied to the Cumbrian Two and to whom a secret handshake grants access to medicine bottles full of rum.

The number of grandparents with bottles of Calpol in their overcoats would triple over night. Deli counters in the supermarkets would ask you to sign a waiver stating that under no circumstances would the pumpkin-seeded wedge of cheddar you purchased be washed down with alcohol. Council allotments would have regular inspections by the fruit-for-fruit’s-sake committee and heaven help you if you seem to be focusing too much on elderberries, blackcurrants or grapes. Here’s another product whose sales would be restricted. Grapes would probably have a colour changing ingredient genetically bred into them that turns the resultant liquid high-vis yellow if it comes into contact with alcohol. A visit to Wilkos could get you on the terrorist watch list if you ended up combining buckets, yeast, sugar and bottles in the same basket.

Still, despite all the new red tape, you can always rely on the Cumbrian Two to bring the truth to your palate regardless of the looming attention of Big Bob or a bed in Cuba.

Now, having got all that off our chest, I think I should recommend a couple of wines while I still can...