It's not that I am usually a luddite. Nor do I necessarily mourn the fact that workers have priced themselves out of a job. But there is something very sad about the Telegraph's story that the Symington port family is to phase out crushing grapes by gangs of human feet:

Centuries of port heritage ended by family firm

The world's oldest and largest port producer is finally trampling on 2,000 years of agricultural history.

The Symington family, which has been making port since 1652, has announced that it will no longer crush its grapes under foot.

The saddest part is surely that:

While the robots are an expensive investment, they can do the job at any time of the day or night - and don't need the encouragement of an accompanying musician.

Will port wine ever be the same without the local folk tunes of Portugal being instilled into it at birth I wonder?