WINE COUNTRY: BLENHEIM PICTURES
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After leaving Kaikoura, we found ourselves in what looked like a living postcard. Once in the Marlborough region there was endless vineyards under a stunning umbrella of sunlight. Our lodging was a B&B by the name of St. Leonard's Vineyard. It was very well done with a big bed and a full kitchen. There was even a small courtyard through the kitchen window and at your leisure you could walk the grounds among roosters or go directly into the vineyard. It was a peaceful place. The next morning I woke up to what else a but a rooster squawking its head off. For country folk, I guess that’s typical but it was pretty surreal for me. It took a moment before I realized what the heck was going on. Breakfast consisted of (fresh eggs from the hen house, homemade jams, and fresh milk).
I figured we best fill up. My wife is the wine drinker. I’m a whiskey person. I stood outside the vineyard staring at the rising sun in gym shorts, an old t-shirt, with a 12yr old glass of Jameson in my hand. I could hear my wife in the background, “Larry get in here, its 8 in the morning, and you look homeless!” The poor B&B owners accustomed to having the most beautiful scenery outside their kitchen window were in for a surprise when they saw my sloppy self standing next to the bird fountain in their yard. They were horrified.
Then I saw a Mercedes pull up. “Nice car” I thought to myself as some well-dressed flashy guy jumped out and began talking with the B&B owner. I thought to myself, “Should I have another glass before or after I take a shower?” My contemplation was interrupted, “Sir, your chauffeur is here for you”. I stood there in my early morning stupor looking at the B&B owner. “Oh, good, that’s good” I rattled off. I had scheduled a wine tour for us, but I thought it was a group tour. Apparently I had overdone it. |
After getting my shit together, we came out to meet this guy. It turned out we had a personal Benz and chauffeur from 8am to 5pm. We basically could go anywhere and do anything and he would show us around and make arrangements for whatever we wanted to do. It was pretty unusual. To me, only rich people did stuff like this. I did not grow up rich and I wouldn’t have wanted to. Luckily all the 12yr Jameson I drank made things comfortable.
We went to 6 wineries in the morning, had lunch, and then went to 3 breweries in the afternoon. Sort of a his/hers wine tour. They were very generous with the wine. After 6 wineries we were done. That’s why they give you a spittoon (spit bowl) so you don’t have to drink all the alcohol every time. Where I grew up..... when you got alcohol, you drank it, all of it. Both my wife and I found this probably wasn’t the best of choices. We were not looking very good by 5pm. Whiskey + Wine + Beer = (
The next morning getting woken up by a damn Rooster was no longer cute. My hung over ass was ready to eat the feathery little SOB. Needless to say Sierra wasn’t in the sunniest of moods. I could hear the growls from the angry midget in my bed. Every time I tried to turn on a light or open a window shade I came closer to death. Believe me, the smaller they are, the more ferocious they are.
We marched forward on our way to the northernmost point of the South Island, and a town called Nelson. It continued to amaze me that we would drive for hours and see less than 10 cars on the road. When they say that 70% of NZ population lives on North Island I believe it. |
