Wacky Wine was as epic as I had imagined. I’m glad we didn’t overstay our welcome though, as it seems that more than one day of driving around and tasting wine is MORE than sufficient. We started off at Rooiberg, which was quiet enough and served gross greasy bacon rolls (the best for lining the stomach). We then made the epic mistake of attempting Graham Beck.
Tip # 1: If people from Gauteng have heard of the wine farm, don’t go there.
I had to fight my way through crowds of people to even get near the wine tasting counter, and even then I was surrounded by ladies of inferior birth tasting wine with ICE in their GLASSES (!). It was 10am. In Heyer’s words, “they smelt of the shop”.
Luckily the boy, like my older brother, curls his lip in disgust at other people, so we dodged a bullet and left quickly.
The next stop was Clairvaux, where we were offered brandy cocktails (no was the answer, it was 10.30), hanepoot and loads of olives. It was, well, nice. And exactly what was to be expected of Robertson.
I, however, am a snob, so we moseyed along to Springfield.
Tip # 2: The more expensive the wine, the more beautiful the wine farm. As a rough guide…
Springfield was fantastic. The views were unsurpassed, and on each table was a large bowl of olives (not for very long, we did some serious damage to our bowl as soon as possible). But truth be told, there are few wines are delicate and interesting as the Springfield Whole Berry. I made sure that all my 5 allowed tastings per hour (as per guide instructions to safe drinking) were spent on Whole berry.
We made the severe mistake of thinking Bon Courage would be a good next choice. If Graham Beck was an abortion, then this was a bad-door, wire-hanger one. I must have been taking barbiturates the first time I had the Bon Courage Blush and thought I liked it, because it tastes like soda-streamed Four Cousins Rose. And they were selling the foul potion by the barrel-full. I went up to the tasting girl and asked her something about the red wine I was tasting, like barrel maturation and blend percentages (not exactly higher grade stuff) and she looked at me with a wide-eyed blank expression. When I asked whether no-one else had asked this, she just meekly said “No man. Everyone just drink!”.
Tip # 3: If the wine is made for people who want to just suip, avoid the farm.
Excelsior was both fun and very entertaining. Picture the scene: Robertson Valley, small wine farm with horses and goats everywhere, cellar floor strewn with hay, Supersterre singing karaoke, ‘tannies’ selling vetkoek, boerewors rolls and pannekoeke and an Asian sushi chef. What, wha- whaaat? Pick the one that doesn’t fit. I love how small-town Afrikaans people have suddenly ‘discovered’ sushi and it now symbolises the height of schmancy. For us, it’s getting a little cheesy, but I tell you in Robertson fashion obviously takes a little longer.
Tip # 4: The smaller the farm, the better time you will have. We made our own wine, tasted with the wine maker and sat on a stunning deck wolfing down pancakes. No queues.
With a now-wiser view on the festival, we quickly gave Van Loveren the skip. I didn’t think the boy’s heart could have taken it. De Wetshof was the next location, a beautiful classy farm with plenty of olive tasting. By this time I was a little over the olives, but they did have lots of bread to taste with olive oil and cabernet sauvignon vinegar. After my 30th tasting of the vinegar, the girl behind the counter gave me a somewhat tiresome sigh as if to say “Are you really still pretending to taste?” I quickly left, tummy full.
Tip # 5: Tasters mean just that. But in Robertson, people are too polite so you can usually push your luck. Yum!
Finally, the lure of something far greater pulled the boy further down the road. Jip, you guessed it.
Tip # 6: If there is rugby on, you will have to taste wine by yourself while your companion watches the Boks.
I spent the remaining two tasting hours of the day sitting outside in the sun with what I discovered to be a group of the local wine-makers, sharing their wine and speaking my best attempt at Afrikaans (my tongue was well-oiled by this point so I think it went well!)
We headed back into Ashton in a good mood (the Boks were victorious, I had a bottle of wine…win-win situation) and to a friend’s fish braai. I won’t even get into how awkward that was, that’s a post on its own.
Tip # 7: Sober up before going to have dinner with a friend, his parents and his granny. Find out BEFORE the time that these are the dinner guests.
However, it was a fantastic experience and one well-worth repeating. Oh look at that, there is the Slow Wine Festival in August. See you there….
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