Wednesday, July 18, 2007

A Wine Tour Gone Awry

The town of Stellenbosch is situated in a picturesque valley, surrounded by mountains, and can be reached by an hour's train ride from Cape Town. Though it is home to one of Africa's most prestigious universities, and thus boasts a vibrant demographic of young intellectuals, the real draw of Stellenbosch comes in bottled form. For it is here that the South African wine trade has its epicentre.

The area is peppered with old-world farmhouses, where wine producers take advantage of the ideal microclimate by growing many varieties of grape, ranging from the familar Pinot Noir to the uniquely South African Pinotage. There are in excess of 150 vineyards within a 20 minute drive from Stellenbosch, making it a perfect base from which to travel about and sample the local fare.

Unfortunately for Canadians, wines from S. Africa are almost exclusively exported to Europe and the US. While it may be possible to pick up a few bottles at your local Oshawa Liquor Mart, this represents a meager fraction of the actual selection. So you can imagine my excitement when I arrived in the town with two friends on the eve of a wine tour that would offer us a glimpse into the real world of S. African wines.

Wine tours follow a simple formula: you pay 250ZNR to hop on a bus. You spend the day visiting 4 of the more famous local vineyards, sampling a few glasses of wine along the way, and then return to the hotel with that warm fuzzy feeling one gets from actually learning something while drinking booze.

Fine, sounds good. But I say, PISH POSH! 4 vineyards? I didn't fly 17000km to be satisfied with that! 150 watering holes, and you only visit 4? That's like going to a hockey game and leaving 5 minutes in.

Let me tell you how to really get it done: for 300ZNR, you hire a cab for the day, or in our case an orange-coloured VW Magikbus driven by some guy with dreadlocks who played nothing but blaring trance music. We hopped in the bus at 930AM, and embarked on a full day tour de force, hitting 9 vineyards by the time we were done.

The first stop was Avandale, where our taste buds were tantalized by the sweet and syrupy signature port. Next up was Waterford, whose resilient syrah lingered in our throats, invoking daydreams of cherry blossoms and warm velvety chocolate. We then proceeded to Simonsig, and were refreshed by the sancerre, which danced on our palettes as if to the tune of a Chopin concerto.

Well, I'm sorry to say that I can't tell you anything else. You see, I have a very low tolerance for wine, and so by the 4th vineyard I had ceased to actually taste what I was drinking. By the 6th, I began to forget the names of the vineyards, and by the 8th I had already forgotten by own name. The only reason I even am aware of visiting a 9th is because our driver, bless him, later informed us that we had done so. As evening drew near, we stumbled in to our hostel, the aptly named Stumble Inn. The last of us went to bed at 815PM.

And so, despite having spent an entire day being whisked around to some of the region's most integral vineyards, I can tell you absolutely nothing about the merits of S. African wine. Because, well, I just got too drunk.

Oh, hold up. I can tell you that the wines here come in two colours (red and white), are very easy-drinking, and most certainly contain a potent amount of alcohol.

S.N.A.F.U!!!

"Some people can't even tell the difference between a Bordeaux and a Claret." - Basil Fawlty

4 comments:

Isis Almeida said...

Oi querido,
Que pena!!! Pensei que fosse ler sua primeira reportagem sobre a Africa do Sul, but I'm gad you had loads of fun!!!

Beijos,

Anonymous said...

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I await the tales of your less traveled road.

- Robert Frost

Mike Hudson said...

Well done. One of my favourite poems. Any clues as to who you are?

Mike

Anonymous said...

Hi Mike!
Eu não entendi nada do poema mas não tem problema, copiei e vou procurar a tradução em casa!
Bj

Its me ,Tati!