Day 63: Booze and Views
It was a hot Saturday in Melbourne. Not hot in a real sense.
I didn’t sweat through my clothes. I didn’t feel the constant need to retire to
an indoor airconditioned room. No, it wasn’t hot compared to where I came from,
but it was still 25 degrees Celsius. My family found it perfect, but honestly,
I was disappointed. I came to Australia in winter for it to be my oasis from
the desert that was Asia, not to creep up to temperatures that would titillate
my sweat glands. Anyway, it was fitting then that the majority of the day was
spent climbing to higher ground, to the winelands of Victoria.
The Yarra Valley wineries were one of the tourist spots I
knew I wanted to finish before leaving Melbourne. Honestly, wine tours used to
bore me greatly. Of course, that was before I turned 21, and before I could
partake in the selections of wines. Now that I’m 21 (of course, ironically,
both the wine tours I’ve been on in this trip were in countries where that most
important age is 18), they appeal to me as much as any trip to places that
allow you to taste alcohol and wander through rolling vine-lined hills, which
is to say, a lot.
We left around 11:00, with my Uncle driving, my Aunt along
for the experience, and my cousin Lisa and I readying ourselves for tasting.
The Yarra Valley, which I was told shares no relation to the Yarra River that
runs through Melbourne, lies about an hour West of Melbourne proper, past a
series of town’s with particularly Australian names (like Croydon and Lilydale).
The road is broad and lined with commercial buildings to the main heart of the
valley, but the roads to the wineries themselves split from the middle in all
directions, traipsing along lines and lines of trees and grape vines, with some
cows and goats thrown in for decoration.
Our first winery was one of the furthest away from the
center of Yarra Valley. Named De Botoli, it is one of the oldest and largest in
the area. To reinforce this fact, they built a ‘De Botoli’ sign right into the
hill-face off in the distance from the tasting cellar and restaurant, to let
people know just how large their winery is. The tasting cellar wasn’t all that
fancy, but highly efficient, and when the wine tastes as good as it did there,
that is all that really matters. Unlike the US tastings I had been to, in the
Yarra Valley, patrons are allowed to taste as many of the selected wines as
possible. I gathered this from both the lack of signs telling me how many
tastings I could have, and because the hostess was a bit surprised when I
wanted to skip over one. Considering the tasting was only $5 (the exchange rate
is basically 1-1 right now), and that $5 is reimbursable if you buy a bottle, I
was confident that I found the one thing in Australia that is quite affordable.
The wines at De Botoli were good. I am no wine critic, and
even further from that no wine connoisseur, so I’m not going to pretend to know
how to describe them. Of course, I’m not a food critic but that hasn’t stopped
me from describing my meals, but when the descriptions that I read about the
wines contain words like “earthy” and “formidable” and “ultra drinkable”,
there’s not much room for me to come up with other ways. The one description I
feel like I kind of get is the drinkability aspect, as I feel like I do know
what that means when I taste it.
Anyway, De Botoli let us taste whatever I want, but because
we had a long day ahead of us, I restrained myself to one of each sub-category,
so one of each of their two types of whites, each of their three types of reds,
and two of the stronger type of wine whose name I don’t know off-hand. As I
already knew from experience, I found the red nicer, but still the Merlot was
‘highly drinkable’. The winery also had a cheese tasting, and while I’m no
chees connoisseur either, I did enjoy the goat cheese and the brie (or whatever
that runny cheese was – to me, all runny cheese is brie if I don’t know for
sure). Outside, we took pictures of each of the combinations of people in front
of some truly gorgeous backdrops, continuing a tradition of pictures that my
cousin Ian and my Uncle Melvyn took part in during their trips to Melbourne.
We left De Botoli and headed back towards the city center,
running a bit late for our 1:30 lunch reservation (and when I say late, I mean
we embarked on the 25-minute drive back to the Helen Hills Winery for lunch at
roughly 1:25). We called ahead to alert them of our impending tardiness, and
soon reached our lunch spot. Tabled near a full glass window-wall inside the
Helen Hills Restaurant in the winery, we dined while enjoying a truly
spectacular view right outside. My Aunt and Uncle picked the place because of
the great view and the great food, and both lived up to expectations. Actually,
the food exceeded them. I had lamb chops, which were as tasty as any I’ve had
(the sauce was excellent), and far more meaty than any I’ve had. I always fear
when getting chops that I would be left with the manual labor of stripping the
meat of the close to bare bones, but these were truly healthy chops.
After lunch (and some more pictures), we left for our other
winery, the Chandon Winery, which is of course a branch of the infamous Moet
& Chandon company. Being that, it was more grand and regal, set in the
valley of a large expanse of vineyards. The tasting area was a large, open area
that was packed with tourists crowding the tasting table. The winery also gives
a few tours of the winery each day, but we had just missed one. However, they
keep the tour areas open, so we could lead ourselves through a tour of the
winery. We waited about 10 minutes before we got up to the front of the bar
table to start our tastings. Being Chandon, half of the 12 wines that they made
available for tasting were sparkling. I don’t particularly like sparkling wine,
but I would admit that they were very nice, and probably would be quite
attractive had I had any bent towards sparkling wine. Their stills were nice,
but despite their grander appearance and presentation, weren’t as good as the
ones from De Botoli. Still, the fact that I could taste all of the ones listed
without thinking twice was worth the price of admission.
After another round of pictures of the scenery outside the
winery, we headed to the beer tasting, which was done in lieu of a 3rd
winery for me, someone who would go to a beer tasting over a wine tasting
anyday. The Coldstream Brewery was the place, and their five craft beers was
their offer. They gave the beers in double shot glasses. They had the usual
craft fare (one ale, one lager, one stout, one pilsener and one cider), but
that gives the impression that they are normal. I actually was impressed by
their beers. Craft Beer isn’t as big in Australia as it is in the US, but these
were all very good, especially the Czech Pilsener, the Ale (coincidently, the
one beer I hate at my local craft beer establishment, Triumph Brewing Company
in Princeton, is their Amber Ale, which of course is one that is always on
their beer list) and the Porter. After struggling for weeks to think of
something to get my friends from my trip, and seeing the largely reasonable
price of $20 for a mix-and-match 6-pack, I got a six-pack to go (of course, the
total cost could be a lot more if they explode mid-flight and ruin my clothes,
a fact my Mom reminded me about a dozen times when I told her last night about
the purchase). We were almost done with the brewery when a large ‘Hen Party’
(Bachelorette Party) entered, filled with their token couple Moms and even more
token Gay guy (I only point out because the way he was dressed I think he was playing
up the role). It was rather early so this was probably stop #1 for them, but it
was the final stop for us on a long day of day-time drinking.
We reached back and went to mass (the only thing you can do
after drinking through the day, really), and settled in to watch Saturday Night
Footy. One of the major talking points was a controversial no-goal the night
before (the one-point Port Adelaide win) where the ball was about to cross the
goal line when it struck the goal umpire. One of the things I love about Footy
is the way it is covered and followed in Australia. They have long pre-game
shows and even a weekly Inside the NBA type show (but with a live audience) on
Thursday Nights set with their humorous, crazy, opinionated sports
personalities, including a guy who easily could be the white, far thinner
Charles Barkley. It is the type of show where one of the commentators
(strangely enough, he’s one of the team presidents, which seems odd to me as I
could never picture it being OK if, say, Brian Cashman did Baseball Tonight)
asked for a reporter who supposedly made up some stories to issue a formal
apology during one segment, and then they have the Barkley-esque figure go out
and interview some of the local crazies before the Anzac Day match the next. Basically,
I would watch that show, even if Lisa and my Aunt can’t stand it. To be fair,
they wouldn’t stand Inside the NBA either. Of course, they would be wrong.
Anyway, neither of the two matches on Saturday Night were
all that close for the most part, but while we were watching the one that at
least had more name value, the score of the one in the bottom right kept
getting closer. What was once a 55-17 halftime lead was cut to about 6 when I
alerted Lisa to change it back. Then, we witnessed some sort of history, as one
of the largest Footy comebacks ever happened, with the eventual final score of
about 81-76 (or thereabouts), a stirring comeback. In three days, I had
witnessed a blowout (which was fun because it was the team I was by connection
supporting doing the blowing out), a great match that ended with a one point
margin amid some controversy, and then one of the largest comebacks in the AFL
that sent one of the preseason favorites to 1-4 on the season. God, I love that
game.
