Central Otago - the final frontier
Extreme viticulture in the home of extreme sports which also happens to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.
Extreme viticulture in the home of extreme sports which also happens to be one of the most beautiful places in the world. Central Otago – March 16 2007
Almost hard to believe (probably easier if I was not so sleep deprived), but we have finally made it to the final visit of the trip. And before we have even reached the winery, in some ways, they have been saving the best for last.
Up unfeasibly early again in Marlborough for a 7am flight from Blenheim to Christchuch. This was in another pencil plane which, if anything, seemed even narrower than the first. Anyone over about 9 stone in weight (unquestionably all of us after the last 2 weeks) had to walk down the aisle sideways. There – at a surprisingly busy airport, much bigger than expected – we had to board another plane to Queens Town.
This one was bigger – despite the 25 minute flight time - and completely full, no doubt of people intending to spend the weekend in one of the most beautiful places in the world. It was around here that a lot of Lord of the Rings was filmed and much as I am not a fan of the films, there can be few other places on earth so suited to being used as the set of a mystical fantasy world.
We followed a range of moutains down from the time we left Christchurch and these seemed to get loftier and increasingly striking as we neared our destination. From above, these huge peaks and their craggy slopes looked like bizarrely shaped but very enticing chocolate cake – the exact texture of something heavily dusted in cocoa, with here and there, a sprinkling of snowy icing sugar. I don’t know why mountains from the air often make me thing of something I would like to eat (I especially don’t know after how much I have had to eat recently – it clearly has nothing to do with feeling hungry), but they frequently do.
On the flat land in valleys which appeared here and there, a similarity to English farmland was apparent – neat fields bordered by hedgerows, as out of place as a discarded crisp packed on a pristine beach in this untamed place. This was yet more evidence of the English land clearance scheme which did so much damage to the natural flora and fauna of these extraordinary islands. As we began to descend, the mountains changed, first becoming great, heavy folds of thick velvet tossed carelessly on the ground forming crevices, peaks and troughs and then finally, just as we were right above them, they seemed to be almost like slumbering mythical beasts, their huge flanks dotted with small clumps of trees and shrubs.
There were fjords and lakes and waterways aplenty, meandering through the mountains – a lifetime’s worth to spend time discovering.
Queens Town is apparently the extreme sports capital of the world and if anyone had sold it to me as such, it would be the very last place I would want to spend any time. It is where bungee jumping was invented – an activity I will never, ever understand, not if I live to be 300 and wise beyond words. Perhaps the frustration of small town life in such an isolated place would, despite the natural beauty, drive you to fling yourself off a bridge eventually but if you were fundamentally cheerful enough to ensure that you came bouncing straight back up again, why do it in the first place? Could you not just climb a mountain in order to get your kicks? Certainly that is much better exercise.
Despite those who flock here hell bent on scaring the bejesus out of themselves and having a good old gamble with death, it is a place I can’t wait to come back to with Jude. He would absolutely love it here and being without him makes me miss him terribly.
We head out of town on another bus and make our way past lakes while mountain feet on both sides edge ever nearer. It has warmed up considerably from when we arrived this morning (it is now about 1:30pm). Soon, the first vines start to appear – generally smaller vineyards, most on the lower slopes. This is New Zealand’s most Southerly region – one of the most Southerly in the world and thanks to the altitude, it is the only truly continental climate in the country – the day/night temperatures are extreme and generally completely un-moderated by any maritime influence.
Even further on, vineyards start to get larger. Wineries, in the main, tend to be of the rustic and modest variety and despite the amount charged for these wines, there is a notable absence of over designed follies although possibly that will come in time. This area is expanding fast and the wide open spaces between the vineyards that are here now may very well be gone in a few years.
We pass a river with what the driver refers to as ‘grade 5 rapids’. Apparently you don’t attempt these unless you are either incredibly brave, amazingly stupid or sick of living. We pass a bridge some hapless individual has just flung himself off and bounces jerkily upside down without a shred of dignity. Not I imagine, something that is worrying him too much at that precise point in time.
The Kawarau river is a stunningly beautiful, pale, milky turquoise colour – some thing I have never seen before. The landscape is getting more and more stark and dramatic as the mountains, cracked and fissured, press ever closer to the road. Some are bare and some covered in bright, pale green shrubs while trees with a similar shade of leaf stand tall by the river. Our driver keeps up a running commentary – now telling us about ‘naturally brewed’ wine, which sounds very intriguing. He is wearing a headset for safe, hands free talking but disconcertingly, this means that the sound of his rather heavy breathing is audible in between snippets of local information.
We are on our way to see Wild Earth, a winery established in 1998 with 35 hectares of vineyard in some of Central Otago’s most prime locations. The Bannockburn estate where we are headed is 22 hectares of north west facing land planted in a natural hollow with fantastic built in frost protection(very carefully chosen for just this reason) right above the River. They also have some Riesling and some Pinot Gris here.
Their other land is in Lowburn – one of the hottest places in Central Otago where fruit trends to ripen a full two weeks before Bannockburn.
The small bowl of this particular estate is exceptionally good at trapping heat, which is a Very Good Thing. What is less good is that a fierce, cold wind which occasionally blows in over the top of one of the surrounding hills is so amazingly strong that it flattens whole rows and snaps wires as though they were made of flimsy cotton. The vineyard team will be out in it often, holding onto the wires and praying fervently that they won’t go which is about all that they can do. This happens once or twice a year and so completely unstoppable is this force of nature that they are now thinking about building their winery in the spot where this thug of nature tends to hit as there is simply no other protection. They currently use the facilities at Amisfield for their wine making.
The soils here are incredibly, pathetically poor shistous with some slate. When they were first digging soil pits for analysis, in 15 pits, they dug up one worm. Unfortunately for the eco-system of the vineyard, they managed to accidentally kill it at the same time. Not surprisingly, all official reports on the region recommend that absolutely nothing should be planted here. The vines are remarkably skeletal in the worst areas of the vineyard – with hardly any fruit on them and weak, puny stems (they can hardly be called trunks)
Truly, this is extreme viticulture.
These are trained high as further frost protection – the fruit is far from the frosty ground - with the top of the canopy left untrimmed so as not to compromise fruit ripeness. The leaves are the enginee room of the vine, if you like, providing the energy for the grapes to ripen so a good canopy is very important as without enough ‘power’, things simply won’t happen as they should. They do however do leaf plucking - albeit very carefully as the UV light here is so amazingly fierce, it can cook both people and vines in no time at all.
However through careful use of organic fertilizers (notably a seaweed extract) and compost applications, vineyard Manager Pete Kerdemedlidis has started to see improvements and now reports a growing worm population, with organic matter in the soil having increased from 1 to 3% in the last few years. This is a long, slow process as too much organic matter and compost introduced at once would be far too much for the soils or the plants to handle but the business of establishing and managing vineyards and making great wine from them is always long term and they are undoubtedly on the right road.
They are not certified organic although they don’t really use anything chemical except for herbicides – the same story as with so many we have seen on this trip. The excuse is always valid – you cannot expect to do the work by hand on so many acres – the increased labour costs will simply never be justified by the finished product. It is interesting to note that I have recently tasted the wines of two producers in France who came to that conclusion and so cut their vineyard holdings down to a few hectares – all that they felt they could manage if farming completely biodynamically.
They do however plant cover crops in the vineyards – grasses, and flowers – and this has meant a very healthy insect population which has negated the need for pesticides at least.
We stroll slowly through first a few blocks of Pinot and then past some Riesling which is tasting deliciously aromatic already. Pete says that he thinks this is the best fruit he has ever grown and he attributes this to the use of organic fertilizers.
The road continues to slope downwards with the River at the bottom and as this gets closer, a camp fire and a small tent become apparent. The light is still as crisp as it was this morning although it is getting on for 5pm now and while not hot, the air is pleasantly warm and full of the scent of wild thyme which we are crushing underfoot as we walk. Apparently, the scent of this is so intense here because of the dryness of the place.
Once we get down to the tent, the wine tasting is in full swing. A casual affair, the wines are merely left open on a wooden trestle table and we are left to our own devices with them.
2006 Wild Earth Pinot Gris
This has 21 grams of residual sugar and a small proportion of the wine was fermented in old French oak.
Very musky and silky with real grapefruit bite on the edges which balances the sugar – this really does not taste like it has 21 grams, the only give away is the fantastic texture. Great length and a smoky white chocolate finish. Delicious wine which I found far too easy to drink with all the seafood (it was really good with crayfish). It has lovely richness without being flabby or overly syrupy.
Recommended
2005 Wild Earth Riesling
This has 27 grams of residual sugar
Very crisp citrus aromas and again, the residual sugar is not really obvious at all. Stylish mineral and smoke flavours with hints of riper peach underneath – I am sure that these will come more to the fore as it ages. Excellent fresh length and mineral finish. This is delicious wine – the residual sugar prevents what could be tear jerking acidity from being upleasant and the complexity – while still very young and closed down, is obvious.
Highly Recommended
Unfortunately, neither of the whites are being shipped into the UK yet but after our visit, this will happen later this year and at least one of them will be appearing at Green and Blue.
2006 Wild Earth Riesling
This has 28 grams of residual sugar
Much fresher and tighter, obviously, than the 06 with wild herb and grapefruit aromas and some spicy notes coming out towards the back and on the finish. This is even better than the 05 but drinking slightly less pleasurably now because of its age. Like the 05, the acidity, sugar and weight are all perfectly balanced.
High Recommended.
2005 Wild Earth Pinot Noir
Silky medium body with fresh acidity and extremely fine tannins. A hint of dark chocolate and wild herbs on the nose with red currant and dried red cherry flavours on the palate. Gentle but not insubstantial Pinot with a hint of minerality on the finish.
Recommended
£19.50
2006 Wild Earth Pinot Noir
This has just been bottled so is still rather edgy. Medium bodied with tannins and acidity yet to fully integrate. Very supple smoky red and black fruit with a coffee edge with lovely richness developing on the palate and finish. This is a more substantial wine than the 05, still beautifully elegant but not quite as gamine.
Recommended
Not yet available.
After the tasting, I walk down to the river to breathe more of this amazing air. I take very deep gulps, trying to fill my lungs with a reserve supply for use back in London, where it is gritty and toxic. I do realise that such a thing is not actually possible, but wouldn’t it be marvellous if it were? To the left of me, the river streams out from between two high hills and flows, steady and strong, past me and round a corner, again obscured from view by more hills. It would be silly to keep repeating how very beautiful this place is, so I won’t. I do think though that if I had had months, instead of a few minutes, to sit in precisely that spot and do nothing but breathe in the air and watch the water, I would not have grown tired of it.
Perhaps luckily (although I might indeed still be there), the peace was shattered by someone with no sensitivity, intelligence or indeed dignity - could he have been the man who was dangling by his ankles from the bridge earlier? - who came roaring into view in a ridiculous high powered jet boat. He did a sharp turn, churning the water into foam at high volume and sped off again. What a complete tosser.
I suppose that is the downside of the extreme sport capital of the world.
Quintin Quider, the owner of Wild Earth, made his money in the fishing industry and so is a man who really knows his seafood. Which is a very good thing for the menu this evening. He has invented two terribly clever cooking machines - old wine barrels modified to either hot smoke or barbeque food and I can attest to the fact that they work incredibly well.
We start with fat New Zealand mussels with some of the wild thyme and slices of Abalone, such as I have not tasted since I was a child in South Africa – buttery soft and amazingly delicate in flavour. These were both completely perfect with the Pinot Gris, as was the crayfish which followed – tender and sweet.
That would have actually been enough but a whole salmon then appeared along with rabbit shot on the farm the day before and venison. I decided to concentrate on the fish and, as no-one else was interested, I had the head and some skin – undoubtedly the best bits. Strangely, I am usually the most squeamish person in the world, but eating a fish head – eyes and all – is no problem. It must be because it really is the best bit – a fact which Quentin whole heartedly concurred with.
We ate until I started to think that we were going to need stretcher bearers to get us up the hill. And when we thought we could eat no more, a hot smoked Salmon was produced which, unbelievably, was even better than the first. So we ate some more, and washed it all down with Riesling – complete perfection.
We did somehow make it up the hill, onto the bus and away from this wild, magical place which will stay vividly in my head until I am able to come back here. It is very clear on the journey back to Queens Town – I liked Australia a lot and I really liked many of the people I met there but New Zealand has pretty much been all consuming and complete love at first sight and the better I get to know it, the more passionate it gets. I feel this way after 3 days – imagine what a few weeks would do to me?
We leave for home tomorrow and I am really more than ready to go back. I miss my husband and my shop terribly and this constant travelling, eat and drinking has been rather hard work on the whole. This has been an amazing adventure though and I have been incredibly lucky with the people on the trip – there has been a complete dearth of pompous wanker syndrome – usually a given in at least one fellow traveller – which has made it much easier.
We have covered thousands of miles, eaten probably 20 times our own body weight in food, drunk some fantastic and some truly horrible wines and I have been reminded, thank God, of why I am in this business. I am doing all of this because I believe very, very much that everyone in life deserves access to something which has been loving made and which can, for an evening or an afternoon or a whole day if you are so inclined, transport you to somewhere where all your cares are banished and you feel at one with the world and content with your place in it. Something which tastes of the love and energy which went into making it, the shale and schist soils it was grown on and the wild thyme which grew near it, the combination of which equates to something quite wonderful on your tongue.
So, I will never stop railing against wines which are and do none of the above and I will never stop trying to sell those which are and do all of those things (as well as the more every day versions) and hopefully, every now and then, I will have trips like this which remind me of why it is indeed worth all the pain and hard work that goes into having this business.
Almost hard to believe (probably easier if I was not so sleep deprived), but we have finally made it to the final visit of the trip. And before we have even reached the winery, in some ways, they have been saving the best for last.
Up unfeasibly early again in Marlborough for a 7am flight from Blenheim to Christchuch. This was in another pencil plane which, if anything, seemed even narrower than the first. Anyone over about 9 stone in weight (unquestionably all of us after the last 2 weeks) had to walk down the aisle sideways. There – at a surprisingly busy airport, much bigger than expected – we had to board another plane to Queens Town.
This one was bigger – despite the 25 minute flight time - and completely full, no doubt of people intending to spend the weekend in one of the most beautiful places in the world. It was around here that a lot of Lord of the Rings was filmed and much as I am not a fan of the films, there can be few other places on earth so suited to being used as the set of a mystical fantasy world.
We followed a range of moutains down from the time we left Christchurch and these seemed to get loftier and increasingly striking as we neared our destination. From above, these huge peaks and their craggy slopes looked like bizarrely shaped but very enticing chocolate cake – the exact texture of something heavily dusted in cocoa, with here and there, a sprinkling of snowy icing sugar. I don’t know why mountains from the air often make me thing of something I would like to eat (I especially don’t know after how much I have had to eat recently – it clearly has nothing to do with feeling hungry), but they frequently do.
On the flat land in valleys which appeared here and there, a similarity to English farmland was apparent – neat fields bordered by hedgerows, as out of place as a discarded crisp packed on a pristine beach in this untamed place. This was yet more evidence of the English land clearance scheme which did so much damage to the natural flora and fauna of these extraordinary islands. As we began to descend, the mountains changed, first becoming great, heavy folds of thick velvet tossed carelessly on the ground forming crevices, peaks and troughs and then finally, just as we were right above them, they seemed to be almost like slumbering mythical beasts, their huge flanks dotted with small clumps of trees and shrubs.
There were fjords and lakes and waterways aplenty, meandering through the mountains – a lifetime’s worth to spend time discovering.
Queens Town is apparently the extreme sports capital of the world and if anyone had sold it to me as such, it would be the very last place I would want to spend any time. It is where bungee jumping was invented – an activity I will never, ever understand, not if I live to be 300 and wise beyond words. Perhaps the frustration of small town life in such an isolated place would, despite the natural beauty, drive you to fling yourself off a bridge eventually but if you were fundamentally cheerful enough to ensure that you came bouncing straight back up again, why do it in the first place? Could you not just climb a mountain in order to get your kicks? Certainly that is much better exercise.
Despite those who flock here hell bent on scaring the bejesus out of themselves and having a good old gamble with death, it is a place I can’t wait to come back to with Jude. He would absolutely love it here and being without him makes me miss him terribly.
We head out of town on another bus and make our way past lakes while mountain feet on both sides edge ever nearer. It has warmed up considerably from when we arrived this morning (it is now about 1:30pm). Soon, the first vines start to appear – generally smaller vineyards, most on the lower slopes. This is New Zealand’s most Southerly region – one of the most Southerly in the world and thanks to the altitude, it is the only truly continental climate in the country – the day/night temperatures are extreme and generally completely un-moderated by any maritime influence.
Even further on, vineyards start to get larger. Wineries, in the main, tend to be of the rustic and modest variety and despite the amount charged for these wines, there is a notable absence of over designed follies although possibly that will come in time. This area is expanding fast and the wide open spaces between the vineyards that are here now may very well be gone in a few years.
We pass a river with what the driver refers to as ‘grade 5 rapids’. Apparently you don’t attempt these unless you are either incredibly brave, amazingly stupid or sick of living. We pass a bridge some hapless individual has just flung himself off and bounces jerkily upside down without a shred of dignity. Not I imagine, something that is worrying him too much at that precise point in time.
The Kawarau river is a stunningly beautiful, pale, milky turquoise colour – some thing I have never seen before. The landscape is getting more and more stark and dramatic as the mountains, cracked and fissured, press ever closer to the road. Some are bare and some covered in bright, pale green shrubs while trees with a similar shade of leaf stand tall by the river. Our driver keeps up a running commentary – now telling us about ‘naturally brewed’ wine, which sounds very intriguing. He is wearing a headset for safe, hands free talking but disconcertingly, this means that the sound of his rather heavy breathing is audible in between snippets of local information.
We are on our way to see Wild Earth, a winery established in 1998 with 35 hectares of vineyard in some of Central Otago’s most prime locations. The Bannockburn estate where we are headed is 22 hectares of north west facing land planted in a natural hollow with fantastic built in frost protection(very carefully chosen for just this reason) right above the River. They also have some Riesling and some Pinot Gris here.
Their other land is in Lowburn – one of the hottest places in Central Otago where fruit trends to ripen a full two weeks before Bannockburn.
The small bowl of this particular estate is exceptionally good at trapping heat, which is a Very Good Thing. What is less good is that a fierce, cold wind which occasionally blows in over the top of one of the surrounding hills is so amazingly strong that it flattens whole rows and snaps wires as though they were made of flimsy cotton. The vineyard team will be out in it often, holding onto the wires and praying fervently that they won’t go which is about all that they can do. This happens once or twice a year and so completely unstoppable is this force of nature that they are now thinking about building their winery in the spot where this thug of nature tends to hit as there is simply no other protection. They currently use the facilities at Amisfield for their wine making.
The soils here are incredibly, pathetically poor shistous with some slate. When they were first digging soil pits for analysis, in 15 pits, they dug up one worm. Unfortunately for the eco-system of the vineyard, they managed to accidentally kill it at the same time. Not surprisingly, all official reports on the region recommend that absolutely nothing should be planted here. The vines are remarkably skeletal in the worst areas of the vineyard – with hardly any fruit on them and weak, puny stems (they can hardly be called trunks)
Truly, this is extreme viticulture.
These are trained high as further frost protection – the fruit is far from the frosty ground - with the top of the canopy left untrimmed so as not to compromise fruit ripeness. The leaves are the enginee room of the vine, if you like, providing the energy for the grapes to ripen so a good canopy is very important as without enough ‘power’, things simply won’t happen as they should. They do however do leaf plucking - albeit very carefully as the UV light here is so amazingly fierce, it can cook both people and vines in no time at all.
However through careful use of organic fertilizers (notably a seaweed extract) and compost applications, vineyard Manager Pete Kerdemedlidis has started to see improvements and now reports a growing worm population, with organic matter in the soil having increased from 1 to 3% in the last few years. This is a long, slow process as too much organic matter and compost introduced at once would be far too much for the soils or the plants to handle but the business of establishing and managing vineyards and making great wine from them is always long term and they are undoubtedly on the right road.
They are not certified organic although they don’t really use anything chemical except for herbicides – the same story as with so many we have seen on this trip. The excuse is always valid – you cannot expect to do the work by hand on so many acres – the increased labour costs will simply never be justified by the finished product. It is interesting to note that I have recently tasted the wines of two producers in France who came to that conclusion and so cut their vineyard holdings down to a few hectares – all that they felt they could manage if farming completely biodynamically.
They do however plant cover crops in the vineyards – grasses, and flowers – and this has meant a very healthy insect population which has negated the need for pesticides at least.
We stroll slowly through first a few blocks of Pinot and then past some Riesling which is tasting deliciously aromatic already. Pete says that he thinks this is the best fruit he has ever grown and he attributes this to the use of organic fertilizers.
The road continues to slope downwards with the River at the bottom and as this gets closer, a camp fire and a small tent become apparent. The light is still as crisp as it was this morning although it is getting on for 5pm now and while not hot, the air is pleasantly warm and full of the scent of wild thyme which we are crushing underfoot as we walk. Apparently, the scent of this is so intense here because of the dryness of the place.
Once we get down to the tent, the wine tasting is in full swing. A casual affair, the wines are merely left open on a wooden trestle table and we are left to our own devices with them.
2006 Wild Earth Pinot Gris
This has 21 grams of residual sugar and a small proportion of the wine was fermented in old French oak.
Very musky and silky with real grapefruit bite on the edges which balances the sugar – this really does not taste like it has 21 grams, the only give away is the fantastic texture. Great length and a smoky white chocolate finish. Delicious wine which I found far too easy to drink with all the seafood (it was really good with crayfish). It has lovely richness without being flabby or overly syrupy.
Recommended
2005 Wild Earth Riesling
This has 27 grams of residual sugar
Very crisp citrus aromas and again, the residual sugar is not really obvious at all. Stylish mineral and smoke flavours with hints of riper peach underneath – I am sure that these will come more to the fore as it ages. Excellent fresh length and mineral finish. This is delicious wine – the residual sugar prevents what could be tear jerking acidity from being upleasant and the complexity – while still very young and closed down, is obvious.
Highly Recommended
Unfortunately, neither of the whites are being shipped into the UK yet but after our visit, this will happen later this year and at least one of them will be appearing at Green and Blue.
2006 Wild Earth Riesling
This has 28 grams of residual sugar
Much fresher and tighter, obviously, than the 06 with wild herb and grapefruit aromas and some spicy notes coming out towards the back and on the finish. This is even better than the 05 but drinking slightly less pleasurably now because of its age. Like the 05, the acidity, sugar and weight are all perfectly balanced.
High Recommended.
2005 Wild Earth Pinot Noir
Silky medium body with fresh acidity and extremely fine tannins. A hint of dark chocolate and wild herbs on the nose with red currant and dried red cherry flavours on the palate. Gentle but not insubstantial Pinot with a hint of minerality on the finish.
Recommended
£19.50
2006 Wild Earth Pinot Noir
This has just been bottled so is still rather edgy. Medium bodied with tannins and acidity yet to fully integrate. Very supple smoky red and black fruit with a coffee edge with lovely richness developing on the palate and finish. This is a more substantial wine than the 05, still beautifully elegant but not quite as gamine.
Recommended
Not yet available.
After the tasting, I walk down to the river to breathe more of this amazing air. I take very deep gulps, trying to fill my lungs with a reserve supply for use back in London, where it is gritty and toxic. I do realise that such a thing is not actually possible, but wouldn’t it be marvellous if it were? To the left of me, the river streams out from between two high hills and flows, steady and strong, past me and round a corner, again obscured from view by more hills. It would be silly to keep repeating how very beautiful this place is, so I won’t. I do think though that if I had had months, instead of a few minutes, to sit in precisely that spot and do nothing but breathe in the air and watch the water, I would not have grown tired of it.
Perhaps luckily (although I might indeed still be there), the peace was shattered by someone with no sensitivity, intelligence or indeed dignity - could he have been the man who was dangling by his ankles from the bridge earlier? - who came roaring into view in a ridiculous high powered jet boat. He did a sharp turn, churning the water into foam at high volume and sped off again. What a complete tosser.
I suppose that is the downside of the extreme sport capital of the world.
Quintin Quider, the owner of Wild Earth, made his money in the fishing industry and so is a man who really knows his seafood. Which is a very good thing for the menu this evening. He has invented two terribly clever cooking machines - old wine barrels modified to either hot smoke or barbeque food and I can attest to the fact that they work incredibly well.
We start with fat New Zealand mussels with some of the wild thyme and slices of Abalone, such as I have not tasted since I was a child in South Africa – buttery soft and amazingly delicate in flavour. These were both completely perfect with the Pinot Gris, as was the crayfish which followed – tender and sweet.
That would have actually been enough but a whole salmon then appeared along with rabbit shot on the farm the day before and venison. I decided to concentrate on the fish and, as no-one else was interested, I had the head and some skin – undoubtedly the best bits. Strangely, I am usually the most squeamish person in the world, but eating a fish head – eyes and all – is no problem. It must be because it really is the best bit – a fact which Quentin whole heartedly concurred with.
We ate until I started to think that we were going to need stretcher bearers to get us up the hill. And when we thought we could eat no more, a hot smoked Salmon was produced which, unbelievably, was even better than the first. So we ate some more, and washed it all down with Riesling – complete perfection.
We did somehow make it up the hill, onto the bus and away from this wild, magical place which will stay vividly in my head until I am able to come back here. It is very clear on the journey back to Queens Town – I liked Australia a lot and I really liked many of the people I met there but New Zealand has pretty much been all consuming and complete love at first sight and the better I get to know it, the more passionate it gets. I feel this way after 3 days – imagine what a few weeks would do to me?
We leave for home tomorrow and I am really more than ready to go back. I miss my husband and my shop terribly and this constant travelling, eat and drinking has been rather hard work on the whole. This has been an amazing adventure though and I have been incredibly lucky with the people on the trip – there has been a complete dearth of pompous wanker syndrome – usually a given in at least one fellow traveller – which has made it much easier.
We have covered thousands of miles, eaten probably 20 times our own body weight in food, drunk some fantastic and some truly horrible wines and I have been reminded, thank God, of why I am in this business. I am doing all of this because I believe very, very much that everyone in life deserves access to something which has been loving made and which can, for an evening or an afternoon or a whole day if you are so inclined, transport you to somewhere where all your cares are banished and you feel at one with the world and content with your place in it. Something which tastes of the love and energy which went into making it, the shale and schist soils it was grown on and the wild thyme which grew near it, the combination of which equates to something quite wonderful on your tongue.
So, I will never stop railing against wines which are and do none of the above and I will never stop trying to sell those which are and do all of those things (as well as the more every day versions) and hopefully, every now and then, I will have trips like this which remind me of why it is indeed worth all the pain and hard work that goes into having this business.
