Robertson wine

The wine of Robertson

It used to be that once a year I went to Robertson to replenish my wine stock with easy drinking⁽¹⁾ wine. These days I go once a year to Robertson to stock up on very good, sadly not cheap, wine. There is a festival on the banks of the Breede River where good food and wine is available in copious amounts. Last year the She-Ghanaian travelled with me and we joined up with some Peruvian friends of hers. Very good to have a totally different view on local wines. This year I went on the less crowded Sunday and still managed to fill up the boot with wine and avoid (barely) the intervention of my bank manager.

Getting there

View from bainskloof towards Paarl

I wrote a while back about the scenic beauty of the wineries around Stellenbosch. Going to Robertson from the West gives you exposure to some truly spectacular views. Although I am the sort of man who will discuss in detail routes and the best way of getting where, I normally only indulge in it at parties where I can bore new pretty acquaintances to prevent any growth in my social life. So, in short, from me you have to get to the side of the mountains where Robertson is. Known as “The Other side”. Via Tulbachit is through the short Nuwekloof pass and perhaps this is the least scenic of the routes. Least scenic in the same way as the guy who comes 10th in the 100m Olympics is “the least fastest”⁽²⁾. The Hugonot tunnel between Paarl and Worcester takes you through the mountain. Views in the tunnel  is not so scenic, but it is still an engineering marvel. It is also the fastest route.

If the tunnel and its toll fee are not for you, you can use Du Toitskloof pass. The scenes change and increase in scope as you turn up the mountain until the whole of Boland and Swartland are spread for your enjoyment. Once going down you are in a rocky valley with streams coming out of the rock face. Brilliant. This is the route I took last Sunday. 12 years ago I drove in the other direction and that is the last time I’ve driven here.

Maybe I should not have taken this photo

Because combining the most fun and best views is the drive via Bainskloof pass. I love navigating the twisty switchbacks, looking at the view and dodging baboons. Last year I annoyed the She-Ghanaian by driving too fast (in her opinion) and having the cold air conditioned air blow on her toes. One year my friend Curly accompanied me and I wanted to show her my favourite road, but it was closed for renovations. ⁽³⁾ Don’t think she has driven it yet. I took these pictures the next time I was on the pass. Once I figured out how to put a video on I will in a separate post.

The festival

The weather was lovely. Every year. Temperatures in the low 30’s, just a hint of a breeze rising from the Breede River. Sitting in the shade of the trees enjoying the food and wine on offer. Life can hardly be better.

It used to be called the Robertson food and wine show. And as the wines moved upscale, so did the food. Last year I ate porkbelly sausages from Rueben’s. This year though, I had bitterballen. Made by an ex-Dutchman from Kingsriver. Bitterballen are like croquettes. Minced meats, breaded and deep fried. It was on every bar's snack menu in Belgium and The Netherlands when I went beer hunting. So tasting that again filled me not only with cholesterol, but also nostalgia.

But what about the wine?

Springfield was my first discovery. It is a bit like saying Columbus discovered Cuba⁽⁴⁾ He found people there!!!! Surely they discovered it before him? Anyhow, I discovered the wines of Springfield for myself at this wine festival a few years ago. If they put it into a bottle it is very good. The Sauvignon Blanc is a perennial favourite. You just cannot go wrong here. The method ancienne chardonnay is my favourite of their range. It used to be the most I paid for a bottle of white wine until that insipid antipodean bilge i overpaid for in Beijing⁽⁵⁾ This chardonnay really rewards cellaring⁽⁶⁾. I try to drink one every second year and so far they have only increased in deliciousness every time.

Alkie behind the Major's Hill stand

The year Curly came with, we stumbled upon Major’s Hill. Turns out to be the neighbour of Springfield. They make a different type of wine here, but extremely drinkable. They sometimes make a barrel fermented chardonnay that is delightful. I usually chat to the winemaker, Alkie van der Merwe, he is passionate about his wine and very entertaining. I could also have phrased that sentence differently. He is from Hopefield. It says the same thing. If stored incorrectly his red wines turn sour. I don’t know this first hand as I drank the stuff before it could get old.

The revelation of this year was Arendsig. They make a Sauvignon Blanc that smells like guava. Or, if you wish, the bouquet has a hint of tropical fruits on the nose. Still smells like guava though. None of this green pepper stuff, but still with the refreshing acidity. Marvellous wine at R60 a bottle. The Viognier is a wild yeast fermented natural sweet that is way too easy to drink. There is a Shiraz which also found its way into my stock⁽⁷⁾. And a natural yeast Chardonnay. A style that is fast turning into my favourite.

So a boot full of reasonably expensive wine but I still don’t have a house wine. Luckily I discovered today that my local supermarket has a R20 a bottle red that is quite drinkable. As for house white wine, it will be Vin du Attaché Blanc. From Robertson.

(1) Cheap

(2) He is faster than 6 billion other people. Slow he ain’t.

(3) Yes, they renovated the view.

(4) You realise he never got to America?

(5) More on this in a later rambling

(6) Garaging in my case

(7) I don’t have a wine collection. I have stock.

The Grey Geese returns

My good friends, The Grey Geese ⁽¹⁾, are back in town after a couple of years summering up north. ⁽²⁾  So far their return has cost me nearly R6000.  This was consequential damage, not the cost of the wine we drank to celebrate the return.  But I got my revenge; they had to take a cold shower.  So did I, so a pyrrhic victory.

Who are the Geese?  Who were they before they were Grey Geese?  What happened to the Gosling?  Afraid that because he was fed well he is no longer a gosling.  What is a teenager goose?  A gosler?  The grey geese name came on their pre-return visit.  On the same day I returned from a disappointing revisit to the Grey Goose in Newcastle-upon-Ncandu.  The wine list has gone backwards since my last visit.  I also set foot in the new King Shaka Airport in Kwa-Zulu-Natal.  Feet, actually.  Lots and lots of feet.  As will all the “upgraded” airports in this country it forces you to walk further, wait longer for your luggage than before and have no idea where you are as they all look the same.  I am also particularly miffed as I was looking forward to some beers of Nottingham Road brewery and on the old airport I knew exactly where to get it.  As you approach the security check for the......, aaarrggh, no one cares anymore. 

Anyhow, I did not find the beers on King Shaka⁽³⁾.  What I did find is the wines from the same area.  This, mostly sub-tropical, part of the world is not known for the wines it produces.  But there are two wineries up the N3, The Stables being near Nottingham Road.  I came back with a Sauvignon Blanc and a white blend at a disappointing average of R90 a bottle.  This I tried to share with the Grey Gander, but he was having none of that.  Rightly so.  If you’ve paid for it, there is a certain obligation to drink indifferent wine, but you can look a gift wine in the mouth.⁽⁴⁾  If you have the choice of the Nottingham Road wine or beer, go for the beer.

If a person you haven’t seen for a while visits and is now completely grey, is it something you mention?  Do you comment on the rapid loss of colour when it fact the only rapid thing about it was the rapid stop of dye?  Or do you just accept that hair colour is a very bad timing device.  I realise that one should comment positively on any change in hair colour on a goose variety, but if it is grey?  The Gander, of course, has been grey for some time.⁽⁵⁾ And as long as it’s there, you don’t need to speak about a gander’s hair.

So principally they came down to bring one of the cars before the actual move.  Their garage was still occupied, so I said the car can park in my garage for a week or two.  Unfortunately the appliances heard about this and didn’t like the idea of a Renault parking in the garage.  I had no problem with this.  Inside, where no one could see it, was fine with me.  The natural animosity of inanimate objects forms a central part of my believe system, but I will expand on it at some later stage.  Enough to say here I faced a quiet revolution.

The geyser packed up deliberately and refused to be fixed late on a Friday afternoon by a plumber on normal time.  It was replaced on Saturday by a team of plumbers on overtime.  Whilst I was away the drinks fridge retired.  No notice; just a warm beer when I needed a cold one.  The Renault is gone now.  The Grey Geese settled in.  But I still have one fear.  Is making a man take a cold shower enough retribution for him parking a Renault in the garage?  Will my appliances let it go now?

(1)    Not their real names
(2)    Butchering a metaphor in the first sentence.
(3)    The airport, obviously. 
(4)    Did you get it?  The winery is called the stables!  A gift wine.  A gift horse!   I love weak jokes.
(5)    His hair too.  As I said, weak jokes.