In our noble quest for lifelong learning, we got drunk. But damn me if I didn’t take notes along the way! I now know that “legs” on a wine are largely meaningless, that some varietals have the same chemical structure and smell as cat piss, and that you really do have to pretentiously swirl to unlock every flavor. Tadaaa!

Yesterday was vineyard day in Hawke’s Bay: NZ’s 2nd most celebrated growing region. We chose our first farm on the basis that we were lost, I was thirsty, and it was within sight. We had a friendly and informative pourer, a prime spot in the sun, and we walked away toting a $20 bottle of white.

Our 2nd winery was chosen for their logo, on an area map boasting 31 different cellar doors. I had high hopes for this one, not only from the vintage prop plane slapped up on their shingle, but also deriving from the luscious reams of toilet paper they had stocked in their bathroom. (I’m easily impressed these days.) We learned little of wine at #2, but gleaned all sorts of tidbits about our designated employee’s personal life.

From there we had planned to round out our afternoon with one last tasting, but after our last disappointment and a chance encounter with a gypsy caravan, we changed course. Instead of another round of “Mmm, yummy!” we bought a bag of 10 “American style” donuts and watched fire twirlers. From there we drove to the ocean and set up camp. The end.

-K

^ Complete with stars and stripes. HA! In case you were wondering, “HOT FRESH AMERICAN DONUTS” are simply fair donuts.

^ Vino + vino