Goodbye, Darling

Rolling Home

My daughter Jenni, who lives in Canada, wrote to say she had been enjoying following our Vespa travels on the blog.  She wanted to show it to a colleague at the school where she teaches, only to discover it had been censored by the Calgary Board of Education as being unsuitable for general access.

Their reason? Promotion of alcohol.

That's apparently very naughty in Canada.

Oh dear. I hope they don’t refuse me a visa next time I want to visit Canada.

Our journey is drawing to a close now. Yesterday we set off early on the trip to Darling, picking our way through the morning traffic until we emerged on the open road and could hum along happily at our usual cruising speed of 80km/h.

(Both scooters can go faster than that, but we find 80 about the most relaxing speed to travel.)

We skirted the young town of Atlantis, then past the old Moravian mission village of Mamre before approaching Darling between vineyard-covered mountain slopes.

The dirt road from the main road to Groote Post Estate is a very bad one. I know it from previous visits, so I asked Nick Pentz to fetch us from Darling, just a few kilometers away.

Bouncing over the rough track in his big 4x4 he agreed it wasn’t a nice place for a Vespa to be.

Groote Post is a peaceful and hospitable farm, set far from the bustle of main roads and busy commerce. The old white gabled homestead is now the venue for a delightful traditional restaurant called Hilda’s Kitchen.

A herd of nguni cattle grazes in he fields near the farmstead. There's a large private game reserve on the property and it includes an experiment in re-creating the officially extinct quagga. 

Nick and winemaker Lukas Wentzel has set up a most interesting tasting of some of the farm’s older vintages and it was exciting to see how some of those white wines had lasted. The 2003 sauvignon blanc is still charming, showing a ripe richness that younger whites just can’t match.

I wish more people realized the delight of well-aged white wines.

Lukas has made a Methode Cap Classique rosé sparkler that has a dash of Merlot in the blend. It’s a deliciously smooth bubbly with a pretty copper colour and comfortably low acidity.

He says he plans to phase out the Merlot component over the next few vintages. Personally, I think this is a pity. Its inclusion makes it different from all the other MCCs on the South African market.

Ethene and I both enjoyed the two merlots we tasted. The ’03 is gently generous on the palate, offering ripe, soft fruit flavours.

The ’07 is still fresh, lively and crisp.

Pinot Noir is always an interesting grape variety, as it takes on the character of the soil it grows in. Groote Posts pinots are charming, with a hint of coffee on the 2006 vintage and a lovely cranberry character on the ’08. As I sipped it I couldn’t help thinking: “This is a happy wine.”

Lunch was a true country sosatie braai and salads, accompanied by too much of the good wine of Groote Post, then we were off to Darling for a cup of restoring coffee at the Marmalade Cat before hitting the road back to Cape Town.

We’ve covered about 1500km in all, without a single hint of trouble from the willing little 150cc motors.

We’ve stayed in cozy little farm cottages, luxurious country hotels and quite basic back-packer accommodation. We’ve met kind and interesting people all along the way and we’ve tasted many, many delicious wines and hardly any bad ones.

We owe many thanks to all those who have looked after us along the way and shared their homes, cellars and meals so generously with us.

In particular we’d like to thank our guardian angel, Jacqui Jones of Posy and Jeremy Hazell’s public relations team, for her organization of meetings, tastings and accommodation along the road.

We’ve probably given her a few grey hairs, but we’d have been lost without her guidance. 

And if our ride has tempted anybody to try a long scooter trip, we have only one thing to say.

Go for it!

..

Vespa Envy

Everybody wants to ride..

A journey's success is not measured in kilometres. It's measured in smiles and memories. 

One of the strange things I’ve notice all along the way during our Vespa vineyard venture has been the wistful envy that has greeted us everywhere we go.

From hotel managers to winemakers and petrol attendants, the reaction to two little scooters loaded with clobber has been: “Gee, I envy you. I wish I could go on a trip like that.”

And I always think, “Well, why don’t you?”

I’ve travelled many thousands of kilometres on the Vespa – in South Africa and overseas – and it’s the easiest, cheapest and most relaxing way to go.

A scooter forces you to pare down your baggage to just the essentials. There isn’t room for an extra pair of shoes, a set of CDs or an electric frying pan “just in case we need it.”

You can pack a surprising amount of stuff into a scooter’s basket. (Most modern motorbikes, on the other hand, have hardly any luggage space at all.)

You don’t have to rush frantically to reach your next destination, because a) you can’t exactly rush, with a top speed of 80km/h, and b) the whole point of scooter travel is that it’s slow and leisurely. You have time to admire the flowers and orchards along the roadside, and to smell the pine trees as you buzz past.

An easy day’s travel is probably about 200km (with a stop for lunch) whereas you feel obliged to cover at least 600km a day in a car, so you miss lots of hidden places like roadside farm stalls and artists’ studios.
Luggage space?

You need to pack clothes for five days, maximum. At least once every five days you’ll find a place to have your clothes washed for you (or do them in a wash-basin).

Add your toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, a small towel, sun protection cream and you’re more or less ready to roll.
Oh, and a corkscrew, of course.

Traffic and a Rickety Bridge

Back to base. Friday.

We’ve had a long run today. Starting at the elegant Mardouw Country House quite near to Swellendam, we travelled through Ashton, where the Koo canning factory is obviously working at full capacity processing the tons of fruit now ripening in Robertson’s orchards.

In spite of the week’s searing heat the roses lining Robertson’s main street were as glowingly bright as ever as we scooted past.

In Worcester we left the main road and headed south toward Villiersdorp., then West along the shores of the Theewaterskloof dam, past the charred areas ravaged by last month’s fires, then down the spectacular winding pass into the pretty Franschhoek valley.

The sign at the entrance to Franschhoek has some letters missing, so it welcomed us to Frans hhoe.

As we puttered through the town I found myself thinking yet again that the people of Franschhoek obviously put a lot of energy into being more French than France.

The signs are full of haute this and clos that – vignes, monts and Dieus, Provence and petit everything.

Still, it makes a change from the usual Kerkstraat and Hoofstraat of most country towns, I suppose.

Rickety Bridge wine estate has developed into a popular stop-over, with an elegant wedding and conference venue and generous picnics in the vineyard.

A nice touch is offering wine pairings with your picnic. A neat rack holding three different Rickety Bridge wines is brought with your  picnic basket. Each tasting glass is labelled with the name and a description of the wine and a recommended food partner.

The sauvignon blanc proved a perfect partner to the fresh asparagus, while the delicious dry rosé tasted good with everything.

To add to he Frenchness of it all, there’s a neat boule court laid out among the vines to keep the adults occupied while the kids enjoy the swings and jungle gym on the lawn.

Then it was on to Stellenbosch, where they have the worst traffic jams of any town in the entire Western Cape.

Trying to drive through the town anywhere close to 5pm is simply a nightmare.

They have traffic officers along the route, directing the flow.

But there’s just no flow. It has often taken me half an hour to pass through the town.  Today was as bad as ever, even on two nimble wheels.

Don’t they know about traffic engineers in Stellenbosch?

We did make it through the town eventually, and scooted gratefully along the edge of  False bay, where the first weekend anglers had already cast their lines into the waves and hopeful gulls wheeled overhead hoping for handouts.

And so home to cats, laundry and a familiar bed for the weekend.

We ride again on Monday.

Five Stars on Route 60

Thursday evening. On the R60.

Ethene certainly wasn’t disappointed by Philip Jonker’s wines. Those MCC sparklers are absolutely superb, each in its own way. We decided there was one for every occasion, from a casual brunch ro a romantic evening and up to a grand celebratory banquet.

A couple of cases will be on their way home next week and our bank balances will be a little smaller.

I was particular interested to taste two Chardonnays, grown in different soil types, but each treated in exactly the same way from Harvesting to bottling – same time fermenting, same time on the lees, same time maturing.

They were as different as could be, which shows there’s a lot of truth in this business of “terroir.”

Weltevrede now has a fascinating maze of “underground” storage cellars hacked out of the original old concrete open fermentation tanks. We held a wonderfully atmospheric tasting down there, sipping Philip's wines by candlelight.

I hope writers in the area discover Weltevrede’s new “Writers retreat.” It’s a quiet area set aside for study and concentration, lined with hundreds of reference books and available to would-be writers who need a peaceful place to write.

Maybe the next Great South African Novel will be born there.

Then it was on to our next destination, Mardouw, which proved to be an enormously pleasant surprise.

Mardouw is a foreign-owned olive farm on the R60 highway from Robertson to Swellendam. The owners have established a truly luxurious five-star hotel here, with gracious rooms, a sparkling infinity pool and gentle service to match anything the city has to offer.

They offer hiking trails, bicycle paths, a golf driving range, angling and meals to die for.
Manager Myles Laing suggested we take a golf cart drive around, and we travelled along twisting farm tracks until we came to the edge of the devastation caused by the huge mountain fire on Monday. The farm's entertainment boma was in ruins -- just a tangle of twisted sheet iron and charred walls.
Luckily the fire was contained (by rain) just before it reached the main farm buildings or olive groves. 

Back at the hotel executive chef Paul Engle prepared a superb evening meal that started with kudu carpaccio, went on to wildebees steaks and ended with a lemon meringue tart.

With the help of front-on-house manager, Jonathan Booysen they had selected a wine to accompany each course (served by he glass and all from the Robertson area).

It was a dining experience to remember.

You won’t find Mardouw widely advertised. It’s pretty new.

But if you’re out this way and feel in need of some serious pampering, look it up.

Incidentally, all  the soaps, shampoos, lotions and creams offered in the en-suite bathrooms are made from olives produced on the farm.

Definitely worth a re-visit.

rain and peach-pips. Bonnievale

Each of the Cape’s wine routes is different in character, and the Robertson Wine Valley has a unique charm all its own.

There’s none of that slightly “film-set” feeling one sometimes gets in Stellenbosch and Franschhoek – ancient white gables, oak trees and a rather self-conscious sense of historical importance.

The Robertson Valley’s farms are unpretentious and have a real “working” feel about them. The horses are for riding, not décor.

The homesteads are sprawling and have obviously been developed over several generations of owners.

The main road is lined with bright red and orange cannas, thorn trees and palms – bright colours everywhere. 

We left Robertson in light rain this morning – very welcome after the last two days of heat-wave. Stopped at Bon Courage to taste their MCC sparkling wine (Our tastings seem to have become focused more and more on sparkling wines here), then on to Van Loveren, which has the most beautiful gardens in the whole of the province.

Every tree, lovingly planted by Ouma Retief, has a story to tell.

I noticed several visitors who had come simply to wander under those tall tropical trees and take in the beauty of it all.

The young woman at the tasting room is obviously used to this and asked us politely, “Do you want to taste, or just wander?” 

Van Loveren produce the Four Cousins Limited Release Methode Cap Classique Brut, which is a very crisp and refreshing drink that would go perfectly with oysters.

We have discovered that Vespa scooters do not manage well on roads covered with peach pips and nut-shells, which is the way some farmers here make them.

We ride happily over gravel roads, muddy roads and corrugated roads, but those crunchy pips throw us around alarmingly.

I’m proud to report neither of us fell off.

On to Weltevrede, riding at a slow pace, just drinking in the beautiful valley scene, washed and sparkling after the morning rain.

We’re staying in a tiny converted labourer’s cottage called Belvedere in the vineyards – two en-suite bedrooms, a central living area and a little galley-kitchen.

Also a handy barbecue outside on the stoep and a good supply of vine wood in the shed.

We went into the town of Bonnievale (very rural!) to buy supplies for the evening. There’s an interesting wine shop called Tim Jan, famous for the herbal mixture of that name, made from aloe and wine.

The label recommends you take a spoonful before bed every night, but adds that pregnant women should consult their doctors before trying it.

Tomorrow we chat to Weltevrede’s winemaker Philip Jonker and taste his bubblies (this will probably be  the highlight of Ethene’s wine tour, as Philip’s sparkling wines have long been her favourite.) 

Horses and Bubbles

Robertson, Tuesday evening.

Overcast and not as searingly hot as it was yesterday, thank goodness.

I think Ethene is discovering why I enjoy being a wine writer.

It’s not so much about the wine at all. It’s about the wine people.

In 30 years of writing about wine, I don’t think I have ever met a winemaker I didn’t like.

Winemakers tend to be kind, hospitable and generous. I suppose it’s the result of living and working with one of nature’s great miracles – the creation of wine from earth and sunshine.

We dropped in on the two large co-operative wineries in the  of Robertson – Robertson Winery and Roodezandt  -- after breakfast.

What is impressive about these cellars is the sheer volume of wine they produce. Great truckloads of grapes were queueing at the receiving depots, cascades of grapes and juice poured continually into the hoppers – endless tons and tons of it.

We are told everywhere we go that production is much lower than expected this vintage.

Well, there doesn’t seem to be much of a shortage in Robertson.

I’ve always admired Robertson Winery for their pioneering efforts to change the packaging regulations governing our wines. They were the first cellar to put varietal wines into boxes. Before they won that battle with the authorities winemakers had to label boxed wines with generic names like “Dry Red” or “Late Harvest.”

Thanks to Robertson’s persistence, we can now buy Shiraz, Cabernet Sauvignon and Sauvignon Blanc in boxes. Wine snobs may disapprove, but hikers, yachties and picnickers owe them for the convenience they’ve offered.

We arrived at Arabella Estate around mid-morning and were invited to stay for lunch, which turned out to be a long, chatty affair, discussing horses, politics, family history and everything else but wine.

The winery is surrounded by green paddocks where thoroughbreds and Arab horses graze, creating a picturesque backdrop to the cellar.

Arabella’s Stephen de Wet is producing some excellent, easy-drinking wines for everyday pleasure and selling them at affordable prices.

The winery has doubled in size since I was last there a few years ago.

It’s not surprising that more than half his production is bought overseas. Wine lovers the world over recognise bargains.

I particularly enjoy his Arabella Shiraz and Ethene always keeps a few bottles of his Cabernet Sauvignon on hand as her “house wine.”

Afterwards Pieter Ferreira (Mr Bubbles) invited us to Graham Beck’s Robertson cellar to sample the whole range of their Method Cap Classique sparkling wines.

From the non-vintage Graham Beck Brut and Brut Rosé, via the vintage wines to the awesome Cuvée Clive, these are delicious examples of fine bubblies and it’s easy to see why more and more people are discovering the delights of drinking bubbles as everyday fare, rather than for celebrations only.

Somehow we managed to pilot our Vespas back to the hotel, where we hear Pieter Ferreira is entertaining a French winemaker to a farewell dinner after he’s spent a vintage in the Cellar here.

This could turn out to be a long, vinous evening.

Pampered in Robertson

Just a word or two about Robertson’s Small Hotel.

The managers of this establishment have perfected the art of pampering their guests and it’s really a pleasure to be the subject of such thoughtful attention to detail.

On arrival we were greeted by a waiter bearing chilled damp face-cloths to wipe our overheated faces after travelling in 40 degree heat. There was also a welcoming glass of ice-cold fruit cocktail.

The rooms are fitted with old-fashioned shutters to keep out the Breede River Valley heat, and of course there’s an efficient air conditioning system in each room.

One of the little touches I liked was a row of electric sockets on the dressing table, and another at the bedside, with a receptacle to suit every kind foreign plug.

The bedside radio also has a docking station for your iPod – certainly a first timer for me.

The restaurant, Reuben’s, is run by renowned chef Reuben Riffel and its reputation is well earned.

Our evening meal was perfect. Ethene enjoyed her dry-aged beef and I had delicious pork belly with a perfect croquette.

We ordered Graham Beck sparkling wine as an accompaniment (served by the glass). The service throughout was caring and unobtrusive.

All to die for!

By sunrise this morning the poolside loungers ( beside both pools!) had cushions in place and neatly folded swimming towels on each one.

In the car park all the guests’ cars (and even our scruffy little scooters) had been washed.

Great to be treated as a millionaire for a while.

I could get used to this.

There’s cloud cover today and it looks as though we may not be as hot as we were yesterday. 

Today we roam the valley, meeting the people and their products.

Robertson in the heat

Even wine makers need an occasional break from pushy journalists who roll up to the cellar at the height of the harvest and ask daft questions, so Ethene and I decided to take a break in our busy wine touring itinerary and take a weekend for a rest-and-laundry break.

Early Monday saw us back on the road, toiling up Du Toits Kloof Pass in 40 degree heat, Vespas humming along like mad, baboons scattering in front of us.

On the road past Nuy it felt as though a blow-torch was aimed at my face. I would like to know what that searing temperature was. I have seldom experienced hotter.

Our first stop was Springfield Estate, where we were welcomed with typical Bruwer kindness. Abrie was away, but Jeanette had a chilled white wine waiting for us and we sipped it in the swimming pool, under the calm gaze of an appealing nude bronze statue kneeling at the poolside.

During a leisurely lunch of gazpacho followed by chicken pie and and salad we tasted some of my favourite wines – Springfield’s Life from Stone, Work of Time and the divine Methode Ancienne. We were also privileged to taste two wines made exclusively for export under the Firefinch label.

We visited the paddock where a troop of springbok graze peacefully under the watchful eye of an Anatolian sheep dog, then toured the cellar, where the 2010 vintage is beginning its life. As with almost all the cellars we have visited, production is down at Springfield this year, due to heat and drought, but the quality of the wine is promising.

Ethene was intrigued by the rows and rows of barrels, muttering quietly to each other in the cool, dark fermentation cellar.

Baby wines have always pleased me and I was delighted to taste Sauvignon blanc and Chardonnay that was just starting fermentation.

And so to the Robertson Small Hotel, one of the Cape’s best kept secrets.

This is a hotel that competes with the best for luxury accommodation, perfect service and (I am told) exceptional food.

There’s a sparkling private pool outside our room and I intend to lie soaking in it, clutching a glass of chilled beer from our mini-bar fridge and contemplating life.

Which certainly looks pretty good from here.

I shall tell you about the dinner when I get back to the keyboard tomorrow.

Right now the pool beckons.

The Cape’s wine  regions are filled with surprises. I had heard of Lomond wines and met the director, Wayne Gabb, at a function in Paarl a year ago. He mentioned that his vineyards were probably closer to Cape Agulhas than any other, and invited me to visit them if ever I was in that part.

He also said his vines were rather new, and I expected to find a small patch of vineyards struggling among the Cape fynbos.

Ethene and I followed the directions he’d given, past Standford, toward De Kelders, turn off at Grootbos… then we ran into trouble.

The scooters’ little wheels can cope with most road conditions, but not deep, soft sand.

The road was under construction and had been churned into a dust-bowl of soft, powdery sand.

We stopped and I called Wayne to tell him we were giving up on the visit.

He was having none of that. In minutes his 4x4 bakkie emerged through the dust to collect us. We left our scooters as Grootbos private nature reserve and accompanied him along the horrible un-made road.

As we crested a rise a most amazing vista greeted us.

Among the rough, tangled alien bush was a vast stretch of  immaculately tended vineyards surrounding a large expanse of blue water.

In the 10 years since Wayne has been working on the Lomond project he has created a model wine farm out of 200 hectares of  unused alien scrubland. The vineyards total some 100 hectares in area. Not a small operation.

The dam itself covers an area close to 100 hectares in extent and supplies water to surrounding municipalities and neighbouring properties. 

A carefully worked-out water management plan ensures that water users receive supplies all year round.

The name Lomond, with its Scottish connotation, was decided on because the two mountain peaks in the background are known as Ben Nevis and Ben Lomond, apparently named by Scots survivors of the wreck of the Birkenhead. Rumour has it they buried the missing Birkenhead gold somewhere in that area. “We always plough just a bit deeper in case we find that gold,” Wayne says with a grin.

Around the vineyards the alien vegetation has been removed and the veld restore to pristine fynbos. Most of the farmers in the area are committed to ecologically responsible practices and are planning to develop eco-tourism in the valley.

As here are no proper tasting facities at Lomond yet (you can find the range at the Bergkelder in Stelenbosch) we drove to the neighbouring guest farm, called simply “Farm 215.”

Over a fine summer lunch we tasted Lomond’s single vineyard sauvignon blancs, called Sugarbush and Pincushion, after the vynbos species that grew there.

It was particularly interesting to see how the 2007 Pincushion had matured. Still lively and fresh as ever it put paid to the outdtated idea that South African white wines should not be aged.

I’ve always been a shiraz lover, and I was not disappointed by the elegantly structured Conebush Syrah 2007. Wayne has managed to achieve a superb balance of flavours, with fruit, spice and wood blending together in delicious harmony.

We returned to our scooters clutching the remains of a bottle or two of Lomond’s products to enhance our supper.

There’s more to this trip than just wine, so we pulled in to the cheese factory at Klein River to sample and buy some of their products – Gruyere, Grana and smoked Sir Robert Stanford hard cheese.

Our scooters will be groaningly overweight when we finally head back home. 

Napier for a day

Bredasdorp, Wednesday.

An interesting day’s run. We set off from Hermanus in a brisk headwind which slowed us down in places to little more than 60km/h between Stanford and Napier.

I wanted to visit winemaker Jean Daneel, who I have known since his Constantia days and later when he was in charge of the cellar Morgenhof.

He now has his own cellar in Napier and I was interested to find out about it. I’ve always enjoyed his style of wines.

After all the glamour and prestige of running elegant and internationally known cellars, Jean has reduced his winemaking operations to bare basics.

His little farm on the edge of Napier is by no means elegant or glamorous. An old grey Ferguson “Vaaljapie” tractor stands in the shade, pallets are piled in the yard and there seems to be little activity in the farmyard.

Jean’s cellar is a plain, concrete block building without any pretentions. Inside, however are all the necessities for good, no-frills winemaking – chilled stainless steel tanks, a crusher, an efficient press, pumps and barrels.

A load of sauvignon blanc grapes is in the pneumatic press and the juice drips gently into the trough underneath.

Fermenting barrels bubble quietly, while others sleep in the maturation cellar until they’re ready for bottling.

The cellar has the capacity to handle 60 tons, but Jean limits production to about 30 tons a year in these uncertain economic times.

His wife, Renée, runs a cosy continental-style restaurant in the town, called Renéessance, and we head there for lunch.

During the meal Jean asks the waitress for a bottle of his signature red wine and she opens a bottle of his very special 2005 Director’s Signature red blend by mistake. Only 600 bottles of this delicious wine were produced and they’re certainly far too grand to be quaffed at a casual Wednesday lunch.

Still, Jean graciously pretends not to care too much and we enjoy a very special wine treat.
After the meal we re-cork the bottle and stow it on one of the scooters for later, and head off to Bredasdorp.

Good, inexpensive accommodation at a backpacker’s lodge, where we are the only guests in a rambling converted house. An evening stroll around the town, stopping for a light meal at the local Italian kitchen called Buon Apetito, and then home to our lodgings to bed, but only after a long, relaxed session in the enclosed garden with the rest of that wonderful Jean Daneel Director’s Signature wine, listening to Leonard Cohen songs on our iPods and deciding that life is definitely worth living.

Ethene has brought a miniature speaker, so we can share our music in these relaxed moments. It’s amazing to think that modern technology allows us to carry literally thousand of tunes with us in a space smaller than a cell-phone.

Full moon bathes the sleeping town of Bredasdorp as we finally head for bed.

The bottle is completely empty.

Another winey day

I’ve noticed that small set-backs on a journey often result in the most pleasant and memorable experiences.

Ethene and I are staying at a friend’s house in the Hemel-en-Aarde valley near Hermanus, and finding it a very convenient base from which to explore the wineries in the area.

But there’s a problem. The house has no cell-phone reception and we need that in order to send off our daily blog and keep up with e-mails.

So we do our writing, enter it into the computer, then bumble about, holding up our cell-phones from time to time in order to check whether there’s any coverage.

We must look like a couple of total twits, stopping our scooters every few kilometres and holding cell-phones up in the air.

Yesterday we decided to try e-mailing from the delightful Heaven restaurant on the Newton Johnson Vineyards estate.

As we sat in the tasting room, waiting to make an internet connection, Dave Johnson, the genial owner of the farm came in, spotted us and invited us to a tasting, followed by lunch. We ended up having a very congenial meal accompanied by the deliciously subtle Newton Johnson and Felicité wines.

I particularly enjoyed his “No Oak” chardonnay, while Ethene, who is not a white wine enthusiast, liked the 2007 Newton Johnson Syrah Mourvedre best. 

This family-run cellar is not very big, but is certainly cleverly designed to take advantage of its steep mountainside site so all the wine can be moved by gravity, rather than by using pumps.

We did an exploratory detour along a narrow, winding dirt road to the relatively new Creation winery. New concrete buildings still looking awkwardly new among the craggy mountains andwell-manicured vineyards.

I liked their grassy, fresh Sauvignon Blanc, packed with crisp green apple flavours, and also an unusually deep coloured first release Pinot Noir.

Later we visited the Hamilton Russell Vineyards and their satellite cellar, Southern Right.

Anthony Hamilton Russell is an innovative wine maker and is constantly experimenting with different methods and techniques in the vineyard and cellar. One of these is the fermentation of wines in large ceramic amphorae instead of using the more conventional tanks or barrels.

The vessels are lined with clay from the vineyard in which the grapes were grown, in order to continue their relationship with the soil. The must was still fermenting when we visited, and I enjoyed the lively granadilla character of the cloudy new wine. I look forward to tasting the end result.

Most winemakers claim their vines are influenced by the breezes from the sea, but Anthony is going one step closer to the ocean. A  batch of his wine has been lowered to the sea bed in 10 metres of water to mature. It will be exciting to discover how it fares in real  marine conditions.

Divers will soon be sent down to raise a bottle or two for the first tasting.

I’ve been impressed by the way our little scooters have coped with gravel roads in the valley, some of which are teeth-rattlingly corrugated.

The last three or four kilometres to our borrowed home is dirt road and we drove home rather late last night without any trouble after an excellent dinner in Hermanus  in the company of Talita, Hamilton Russell’s dynamic sales person, and Bristol wine buyer Mimi Avery.

I can report that Harbour Rock restaurant in Hermanus makes a stunningly good seafood risotto.

An aspiring tenor in ragged jeans serenaded us with “O Sole Mio” as we left the car park.

Not a bad voice, actually, and it probably earns him a few rands a night from replete departing diners.

Certainly better than being a “car guard.”

Wednesday dawns clear and cool with a fair breeze and we are setting off to Napier and then Cape Aghulas after we’ve had breakfast and packed the scooters. Computer and cell-phone batteries are charged and read to go.

Another winey day

I’ve often noticed that small set-backs on a journey often result in the most pleasant experiences.

Ethene and I are staying at a friend’s house in the Hemel-en-Aarde valley near Hermanus, and finding it a very convenient base from which to explore the wineries in the area.

But there’s a problem. The house has no cell-phone reception and we need that in order to send off our daily blog and keep up with e-mails.

So we do our writing, enter it into the computer, then bumble about, holding up our cell-phones from time to time in order to check whether there’s any coverage.

We must look like a couple of total twits, stopping our scooters every few kilometres and holding cell-phones up in the air.

Yesterday we decided to try e-mailing from the delightful Heaven restaurant on the Newton Johnson Vineyards estate.

As we sat in the tasting room, waiting to make an internet connection, Dave Johnson, the genial owner of the farm came in, spotted us and invited us to a tasting, followed by lunch. We ended up having a very congenial meal accompanied by the deliciously subtle Newton Johnson and Felicité wines.

I particularly enjoyed his “No Oak” chardonnay, while Ethene, who is not a white wine enthusiast, liked the 2007 Newton Johnson Syrah Mourvedre best. 

This family-run cellar is not very big, but is certainly cleverly designed to take advantage of its steep mountainside site so all the wine can be moved by gravity, rather than by using pumps.

We did an exploratory detour along a narrow, winding dirt road to the relatively new Creation winery. New concrete buildings still looking awkwardly new among the craggy mountains andwell-manicured vineyards.

I liked their grassy, fresh Sauvignon Blanc, packed with crisp green apple flavours, and also an unusually deep coloured first release Pinot Noir.

Later we visited the Hamilton Russell Vineyards and their satellite cellar, Southern Right.

Anthony Hamilton Russell is an innovative wine maker and is constantly experimenting with different methods and techniques in the vineyard and cellar. One of these is the fermentation of wines in large ceramic amphorae instead of using the more conventional tanks or barrels.

The vessels are lined with clay from the vineyard in which the grapes were grown, in order to continue their relationship with the soil. The must was still fermenting when we visited, and I enjoyed the lively granadilla character of the cloudy new wine. I look forward to tasting the end result.

Most winemakers claim their vines are influenced by the breezes from the sea, but Anthony is going one step closer to the ocean. A  batch of his wine has been lowered to the sea bed in 10 metres of water to mature. It will be exciting to discover how it fares in real  marine conditions.

Divers will soon be sent down to raise a bottle or two for the first tasting.

I’ve been impressed by the way our little scooters have coped with gravel roads in the valley, some of which are teeth-rattlingly corrugated.

The last three or four kilometres to our borrowed home is dirt road and we drove home rather late last night without any trouble after an excellent dinner in Hermanus  in the company of Talita, Hamilton Russell’s dynamic sales person, and Bristol wine buyer Mimi Avery.

I can report that Harbour Rock restaurant in Hermanus makes a stunningly good seafood risotto.

An aspiring tenor in ragged jeans serenaded us with “O Sole Mio” as we left the car park.

Not a bad voice, actually, and it probably earns him a few rands a night from replete departing diners.

Certainly better than being a “car guard.”

Wednesday dawns clear and cool with a fair breeze and we are setting off to Napier and then Cape Aghulas after we’ve had breakfast and packed the scooters. Computer and cell-phone batteries are charged and read to go.

tuesday

Off to a perfect start!

Our loaded scooters illustrate a basic difference between male and female travellers.

Ethene’s modern Vespa is loaded with bags and cases, straps and cords, while mine looks almost empty.

Both vehicles are fitted with baskets to hold our possessions. I have a small carrier attached to the front of mine, but it is empty

We set off from Muizenberg in warm, sunny weather with a cool breeze blowing from False Bay.

Seagulls wheeling overhead and a team of trek fishermen hauling in their net as we buzzed past.

Up and over Sir Lowrie’s Pass to arrive at Paul Cluver wine estate at midday. Our stay there included introductions to all manner of subject not wine-related.

Norwegian celebrity chef and food columnsit, Andreas Viestad, whose TV show, “Modern Scandinavian Cooking,” is a regular visitor to the estate and has inspired the Cluver family to plant the most amazing garden, which produces vegetables and fruit I’d never heard of before. Apart from more than 50 varieties of tomatoes, we discovered “finger lemons,” which were shaped rather like a twisted human hand and exuded the most powerful zest, and tree tomatoes.

We wandered from area to area, picking and eating delicious ripe figs as we went and tossing the peels to plump ducks that were scavenging among the trees.

Lunch-time conversation was mostly about cattle breeding and the merits of using imported semen for breeding, rather than breeding from local bulls.

We tasted the 2009 Paul Cluver Chardonnay, reluctantly released onto the market because the high demand had depleted stocks of the 2008. This was followed by a complex citrus and herb nuanced sauvignon blanc and finally the mind-blowingly delicious 2009 Weisser Riesling Noble Late Harvest, rich with the flavours of ripe apricots and honey.

A distinctive feature of the offices at Paul Cluver is that most of the furniture has been built of huge slabs of wood cut from alien trees. The result is uniquely impressive.

New at the estate since my last visit was the brandy still. I look forward to tasting the products of this hand-crafted copper still built in Stellenbosch.

Reluctantly we loaded the scooters (with a couple of added bottles, of course) and set off for Hermanus. Only after leaving the farm did I realise we had not been shown a single vineyard – in almost 30 years of wine writing, this is certainly a first for me.

From Bot River we encountered a fierce headwind that slowed us right down to about 60km/h for a while, but we arrived in good form, stopped to fill up with fuel before heading for De Werf, where we settled in for the night.

Altogether a very satisfactory day’s ride. Both scooters are doing well and long mountain passes and headwinds have not bothered us at all.

Day 2.

Cold and rainy today, but as we have planned an “unstructured” day, we plan to stay indoors, write, read and relax.

There’s no point in battling the weather on scooters. This is meant to be for fun.

Later:

The weather's clearing, so we have buzzed up to Newton Johnson wines, where we can make Internet contact. 

We visited Creation Wines earlier -- tasted a really fine Pinot Noir. It's a very new winery, reached via a truly horrendous gravel road (from a scooter point of view). The Hemel en Aarde valley abounds with good pinot noir wines, so we are devoting much of our tasting time to sampling and comparing the various styles. 

Another significant part of our quest is finding places with good e-mail reception. Not so easy here in the valley.

The pleasant quest continues. 

still at paul cluver winery

Two days to go

The scooters have been prepared for a long trip. Ethene has fitted a roomy basket to her carrier, I've fixed two eye-bolts to the sides of my scooter's seat, in case I need a place to attach a bungee cord.
(It's no good tying stuff on with rope. I know from long experience that rope works loose from the vibration of the scooter. Bungee cord takes up the strain.)
Ethene devised an ingenious safety cord. It's a length of thin steel cable with an eyelet at each end. We each have one and when we stop for short times, like for lunch at a restaurant, we'll thread the cables through the handles of our bags to prevent access. One of the small disadvantages of scooter travel is that there's not much lock-up space for your luggage.
Now we're all set to go.

getting ready to depart

Cape Town Vespa Club

David Biggs (Cape Argus columnist and wine writer) and Ethene Zinn (wine consumer) are setting off on a vineyard venture from March 1. We aim to take a three-week tour through the vineyards of the Western Cape on our Vespa scooters. I (Ethene) will be posting pictures at the end of each evening if you would like to join us on this trip.

 Ethene, David and Gail Alswang setting off from Muizenberg on a trip to Knysna some years ago.