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.