”How would you blokes like to go up to the Pyrenees’ Wine Region tomorrow?” Ian asked Melvin and I.
Never one to pass up an experience to mix with the local culture, and always enjoying the time with Ian, it was an adventure we couldn’t pass up.
On that Sunday morning in July, that is how we ended up riding in Ian’s Holden, Melvin riding shotgun and myself with Ian’s dog Poncho riding in the back. Heading for the area between Ballarat and Ararat, the area known as the Pyrenees’ wine region in the hill country, once better known for its gold then it wines.
It was a good trip up through the Victorian countryside, talking about the footy game from the night before, going through the latest in Australian politics, and getting a good dose of Australian knowledge from our local friend and guide.
Our first stop was at Ian’s brother’s to drop off the dog. I will admit, like most things in Australia, looks are deceiving. From the outside, the house looked, well, modest. Single story, corrugated metal siding - with an extensive garage. David, Ian’s brother, gave us a hearty welcome and invited us inside for a good cup of coffee - the house inside (designed and build by David) was impressive. Wood floors, marble counters - but more importantly, the details were right, it was warm and inviting with an expansive view out over the hill country with cows grazing in the paddock.
After a good visit and a tour of the ‘shed’- the place the family called home while the house was being built (rustic, but also impressive - who would have guessed that you could finish off a home with the lumber from pallets…and make it look not just good, but great!).
Soon, we were off through the countryside, through the hills, valleys, pastures, and fields, making our way to a little bump in the road of a town, stopping at a local pub for the carvery…the carvery? The carvery.
The pub served a full Sunday spread of roasted meats - beef and turkey, as well as a full assortment of vegetables. Roast potatoes, pumpkins, corn, peas, and an assortment of other vittles.
It was great.
And for dessert - another new experience, the sticky date pudding. I think both Melvin and Ian looked at me a little strange as I licked the plate…literally…clean (ok, I didn’t lick it, but there wasn’t a thing left on my plate when I was done).
Then, it was off to the wineries.
The first stop was Warrenmang Winery. A great little winery - ok, not little, it was relatively big, with full accommodations. We even got a personalized tour of the cellar (make sure you duck) and tasted some great wine. Melvin and I indulged - we tried all that were offered and bought a couple of bottles.
Our second stop was the Summerfield Winery. You could tell it was winter - with few people and a good fire in the little entry way. We tried every wine offered and Ian and I took a punt (i.e. - a bet) on some clear skins…bottles with no labels, being offered cheap, and bought them untasted.
“Wine here is always good.” Ian explained (and he was proved right).
Our next stop…and the most interesting…was Eurabbie Estates…
Literally off the grids (the hum of a generator met us as we exited the car) and a huge enclosure housing some of Australia’s native dingo’s, you could already tell this place was, well eccentric.
The owner lumbered out to greet us and proceeded to pull out his best vintage for us to taste while regaling us with stories of puma’s (rumored to be set loose by American service men and now running wild through the hills), dingo’s (he is a worldwide expert in the field of wild canines), and wine. The winery was simple, but appeared to be a place of a very literate man…books lined the walls, and the wine, especially the port, was very good.
The tasting was also very different….while most places put a little in the bottom of a glass and checked to make sure that you swirled and smelled and poked and prodded…here, the glass was filled to the brim and chugging seemed to be encouraged.
And the wine was very, very good.
As we were leaving, we were treated to a simple toot of a car horn…which promptly set the dingo’s off howling - a fascinating experience for someone that has heard the cry of both coyotes and wolves.
Finally, we were off to St. Ignatius, the last of the day - and perhaps the best wine of the day as well. Australian wines tend to have a very bold taste…this did not…it had a very fine finish…
I’m from Argentina.” The owner explained, And like the classic European finish.”
With that (and with a good dose of wine in the truck) we were back to pick up Poncho and head for home.
David met us with another hearty welcome. And it was clear; this wasn’t going to be a quick stop for Poncho and back on the road. Melvin and I, having tasted wine all day were feeling no pain and were too polite to refuse the beers when offered, soon found ourselves surrounded by Ian, David, and their family…eating supper, harassing each other about our respective footy teams, commenting on the respective wines (three bottles down) and the joys of the Australian countryside and sharing stories from back home.
I slept on the way back to Melbourne. It was a good sleep. Part of it was the wine, but a bigger part was the satisfaction of spending time with good people. I continue to tell folks back home that where ever you go in the world, good people can be found. It was once again proven over a bottle of wine a good home cooked meal in the country outside of Ballarat.