Who'll Stop the Rain (Mt Lofty House to Sydney)

And that's almost a wrap dear reader. We have one full day left in South Australia and then a transit day back to soggy Sydney. Can't say I'm thrilled by that prospect and as you may have surmised from the title of this post, we are already home and yes it's still raining. So people are beginning to wonder who will stop the rain? As did Creedence Clearwater Revival in 1970. Goodness time gets away.

However, let's not get ahead of ourselves; we have a whole day in front of us, including dining at the Hardy's Verandah Restaurant this evening.

As I intimated in our last communication, we had decided that our last day would be one of relaxation - as opposed to how we spent the previous 9 days. In effect this means not leaving the grounds of Mt Lofty House. No wine tasting at nearby vineyards, no drive into the villages that dot the Adelaide Hills, no meandering through the nearby Botanic Gardens and certainly no bushwalk to the summit of Mt Lofty. That thought never even entered my conscious world dear reader. No, really. Well ok, just once or twice.

The front entrance

To illustrate the eye for detail that is the backbone of the extraordinary experience at Mt Lofty House, I had been telephoned prior to arrival and was asked to stipulate a time for breakfast each morning. That ensured sufficient staff were available and that the restaurant wasn't too crowded. A pressure moment I can assure you. While 7am was tempting I was quietly convinced that this would not have been met with enthusiasm by Jayne and her response may well have impacted upon my enjoyment as our time there unfolded. No, play it safe, breakfast at 9am please, both days. 

One of the sequoia trees

The restaurant where breakfast is served is all glass and light, with picturesque views over the valley and white linen tablecloths. There was a choice of starters and then a broader choice of mains. Of course eggs were omnipresent. The food was accompanied by a selection of freshly squeezed juices, coffee and tea. Proper barista style coffee. Most civilised. The portions were not insubstantial.

Post breakfast, I came over all Jane Austen and we took a turn about the garden. It held many secrets and surprises as did the old house. Regardless of where we were, our eyes were drawn to the expanse of blue sky or a sequoia rising above all around it, or the magic view over the valley. It really is a beautiful place.

The verandah restaurant

The library contains some wonderful furniture, deep green chesterfields, tables set up with chess boards, a selection of books and games and is somewhere to just relax. Jayne thought a foray into the tactical world of chess would be interesting. I hadn't played since my teens and the description 'rusty' would not do justice to my ineptitude, however, we set the board up. Thankfully Fenella, one of the managers, stopped by for a chat and provided a welcome break before we returned to amateur hour.

It was approaching lunch time although we did not require food. Back to the garden to find a secluded corner, armed with a bottle of Mt Lofty sparkling and two champagne glasses. This, dear reader, is how one relaxes.

Only French bubbles could have improved on this

At 2pm we had a cheese tasting class with Josh. Well, there is a tiny bit of licence used in the naming of the experience. We had a tasting with 5 different cheeses that were cultured at Section 28, a nearby cheesemonger. This guy had been part of the wonderful world of finance for his entire career and then suddenly had an epiphany, threw it all in, packed up the family and took up a 12 month apprenticeship in cheesemaking in Tuscany (as you do). He then returned to South Australia, established Section 28 and makes cheeses for a living. There were no scary blue cheeses among the offerings and they were paired with pear (see what I did there?), candied cumquats, spiced pear purée and the palest honeycomb we'd ever seen. It actually sent us to Google to learn that pale honeycomb has been used by the bees to store honey alone, no baby bees. Josh talked us through the cheeses and the process involved in making them. Very interesting and informative as well as tasty.  All that was missing was a glass of suitable red wine.

At 5pm we joined a tour of the house, led by the knowledgeable Fenella. G&T in her hand, and my hand too, she walked and talked us through the history of the grand old house, recent and distant. It was quite fascinating to see how it has grown over the years and survived some terrible times, the 1983 Ash Wednesday bushfires for example. The wine cellar is a recent addition, dating back to 2017, but it is  quite a work, with pressed metal ceilings and an extraordinary stock of wines with an external door that opens onto the garden and views of the valley.

Then it was back to our room to chill out, read some more and get dressed for dinner at the three-hatted Hardy's Verandah Restaurant - HVR to those of us who have graced its tables.

Note the old style phone.

We had been warned by other guests that portion sizes in the restaurant were small and the addition of a couple of sides would be a sage move. Heeding their advice, we ordered two sides which proved, to us, to be completely unnecessary. Dinner was excellent. Yes, the portions sizes were smallish, but that is to be expected in a three-hatted restaurant. I apologise for the lack of photographic evidence but we dined sans mobile phones. We are becoming such radicals. Totally disconnected from the digital world for three hours. Bliss. Much like dinner.

As you would expect, my well travelled reader, dinner was not cheap, but worth it. Fours courses plus house made bread and a bottle of French Marsanne. It doesn't get much better than that. To start, we both had the kingfish in buttermilk with caviar and 3 oils - it was exquisite. I followed this with cod in black vinegar and abalone and Jayne had pumpkin agnolotti. For mains, Jayne had whiting fillets and squid in a butter sauce and I had wagyu brisket and angus tenderloin with scallop and pearl onion. For dessert, we both had the dark chocolate and wattleseed ice cream which was accompanied by an offering of port 'on the house' to finish the bottle.

Another quiet night was followed by another delightful breakfast in the room of light. As we were about to leave to pack up, Fenella appeared for a farewell chat, armed with a plate containing edible flowers, macarons and chocolates, just to say goodbye - in style. And that sums up Mt Lofty House really. Style.

At reception, when we were checking out, we were presented with a complimentary book on the history of the house and another couple of the homemade choc chip 'cookies'. Another nice touch.

You know the rest of the story. Car. Drive. Airport. Plane (we had a spare seat and could spread out). Taxi. Home. Sydney. Rain.

Until next time my dear reader when we will take you with us to Fiji. Just making up for travel time lost to the pandemic.

If I only had a heart (Barossa to Mt Lofty House)

Good morning, dear reader. It is our last day in the Barossa and I decided to do the 'tourist' thing and capture my own sunrise over the vines. Alas and alack, the positioning of our unit and a rather large gum tree thwarted my efforts. My morning adventure offered nothing more than a still morning, bird song and some distant colour in the sky. Despite popular belief, there are no points for trying, so I turned my attention to Wordle and Quordle instead, lest I disturb Jayne, whose lack of belief in sunrise as a concept continues unabated.

Today's title is one from the classics, The Wizard of Oz, 1939, even before I was born. All shall become clear my dear reader.

A musk lorikeet

As we sat on our balcony late yesterday afternoon we were assailed by the arrival of some new "guests". Oh dear. The noise. The cacophony. The effrontery. They are staying several units away but were SO LOUD. With children. Had I sufficient voice projection, I could have easily participated in their, um, conversation. If that is what it could be called. I do hope Roland behaved himself; he sounded like he could be in trouble. Perhaps if he didn't behave, his mother would sing louder. If that was humanly, or inhumanly possible. Shudder. It was like people trying to have a quiet chat - across a river valley, punctuated by a very bad attempt at an operatic aria.

Even the galahs were frightened of Roland's mother

After surveying the travel route today, we decided we could visit one more winery (sorry not Hentley Farm Brendo). Turkey Flat fit the bill nicely. It was close by, they do a lovely rosé and also have some other interesting wines. Most importantly after the debacle of Rockford, they take bookings.

They do big bottles

Another treasure. An interesting array of wines, some of which you could taste side-by-side. The Marsanne Roussanne Viognier was one such wine. We sampled the 2021 and then the 2010 vintage appeared. Wow. The rewards of patient cellaring. A big tick next to that one on the tasting list. The rosé is an old favourite (cheers Vikki & DJ) and did not disappoint. The reds were also good although some were sold out. Good for them, not so much for us.

At the bottom of the list was a Pedro Ximénez, delicious, and a Quinquina. The latter is a vermouth style made with Marsanne grapes. It's a vermouth so you can play with it. On the rocks, add soda, add dehydrated orange slices (this is a real thing around here - if it is fruit, they will dehydrate it and stick in jars), add pink grapefruit juice, choose your own adventure. A rival to the current gin craze. The Gin Austen Book Club will be sampling some in the near future.

We could have spent longer at Turkey Flat but they were being inundated by people who hadn't booked a tasting. Like really? Did they think they were at Rockfords? One group of six, in a minibus, who had not booked in, arrived and were disconcerted by the wait time and left. They missed out. Um, hello, how about, get your shit together and make bookings in advance, so then a winery can put on sufficient staff to cater to the crowd - and some unexpected arrivals.

Wine ordered, we drove to a landmark we have passed multiple times a day since we've been here. The Tinman, hence today's title. Yes, we saw him and immediately went on the lookout for the Lion and Scarecrow or even Dorothy. We even chanted, lions and tigers and bears, oh my. They did not show either. As it turns out, the Tinman was the entrance to some children's park, that no longer exists, but he still clings on to his power pole with his axe. Apparently at other times he gets dressed in costume. Santa and stuff. Like Santa wouldn't be scary, carrying an axe eh? Nope. Totally cool.

There were no lions or tigers or bears.

Leaving behind their localised version of Pennywise, we drove to Lyndoch for lunch. This time to The Table. The wonderful Sanna had mentioned it when we visited Brothers at War yesterday. It did not disappoint. An interesting range of café and traditional pub food. We had the best steamed prawn dumplings for entrée and then, moving to boring old couple mode, we followed that up with a BLT. Be fair, all local produce. Very tasty.

Yum!

Back in the car and getting closer to our final destination for the next couple of days, Mt Lofty House, we left the navigation decisions to Apple Maps. What? I hear you shouting my exasperated reader. I know, I know. In the grand scheme of life, it's only time we wasted and we did see places we would never have seen. I didn't even know banjos were still a thing.

Despite our robotic navigator, we did arrive at Mt Lofty House. It is as impressive as it is confusing when you first arrive. To compensate for your disorientation, the staff are lovely. Everywhere. On every level. And offer help and assistance wherever you are. Even if it is not required, although mostly it is.

The rear entrance

After our orientation tour, we collected our bags and returned to our room to enjoy our 'welcome drink' and homemade choc chip cookies, their words not mine. Boo to American cultural imperialism. They were really nice though, cookie or biscuit. 

We didn't have much time to relax before it was time for our "hosted masterclass tailored for wine lovers". Not quite what one was expecting, dear reader. However, the delightful Amanda introduced us to three different wines all with grapes of Spanish origin: albarino, grenache and graciano. While we were familiar with grenache, especially after four days in the Barossa, we'd sampled albarino a few times before, but graciano was entirely new. It was an interesting experience. The cellar, where we did the tasting was amazing. I wouldn't mind spending some time there unsupervised.

A true picture window

The concept of dinner tonight did not sit well with us. Lunch had been more than enough sustenance for the day. The bar area, which has a picture window, literally, overlooking the valley, also served light meals. Allegedly. There was nothing particularly light on the menu and, after discussion with one of the staff, we ordered one pasta meal to be shared. Nothing is too difficult here, nothing is a problem. They really do go out their way to make your stay as carefree as possible. For me, this has not gone unnoticed.

As the sun set on the other side of the house, we enjoyed great service, great food and great wine. And there is the story for today - the wine we had at dinner. The wine list is expansive. We called for Amanda. She arrived, asked what we were eating and suggested two wines, one French, the other from the Barossa. We bristled when it was revealed the Barossa one was a ... wait for it ... (cue dramatic music) ... a Rockford.

The view across the garden

Jayne has yet to forgive Rockford, so we weren't keen to drink their wine, but Amanda insisted on a tasting and produced the two bottles and one of those nifty coravin contraptions. The wine was tasted. Now, we love all things French as you know, dear reader. Tonight, the Rockford was a clear and decisive winner. Jayne begrudgingly allowed the Rockford GSM to grace our table. Damn nice drop, a pity they can't be better organised otherwise we would probably have some of their wine winging its way home to Sydney.

Wine chosen, dinner arrived and we sat quietly in the picture window enjoying our meal, the wine and the evening, watching a wedding happen in another part of the House. As close to perfection as you can get.

Then it was time to check our four poster bed for real.

Tomorrow could be anything, but I'm predicting a lazy day. Potentially we won't communicate for a few days. It's almost time to return to rainy, sodden Sydney. Oh, joy.

Until next time.

Dazed and Confused (Barossa Valley)

And so to our penultimate day in the Barossa. A day carefully planned and executed. The plan dear reader was a late breakfast, drop in to Brothers at War, see the sculptures, lunch and visit one winery, officially the last on our list.

We commenced strongly, sleeping late and lingering over our breakfast, completing those important world tasks, Wordle and Quordle. Once the mundane chores were out of the way, we drove to Tanunda to pop into Brothers at War. You see dear reader, as I was finalising yesterday's post, I realised that I did know the name of the lovely lady who gave us so much of her time yesterday. A return visit was a must.

Sanna greeted us warmly once again and we revelled in the Bunnies victory of last evening. Then she suggested we try a wine that wasn't available yesterday. A 2020 single vineyard Grenache. I'm sure it has another name like 'He hit me first' or 'I didn't start it', but regardless it was another stunning wine - yet to be Halliday rated but a trend has emerged. We sadly farewelled Sanna, it was like leaving an old friend ... not that Sanna is old.  We are old, she is young.

We had passed the turn off to the Barossa Sculpture Park every time we drove to or from the Resort so we were reasonably sure no GPS advice was required. We turned towards Bethany and drove past Turkey Flat vineyard and then through Bethany. No signage, no sight of a sculpture or park. On we drive and we were now heading for the Barossa Hills. Maybe check the GPS. All good, we were yet to arrive.

The park is actually at the Menglers Hill lookout. Culture and views. They have it all in South Australia. The views back over the Barossa are quite something, I climbed the hill at the Resort to take the corresponding shots this afternoon. The sculptures dear reader... you want to know about the sculptures. Hmmm, well, there's nothing like modern sculpture to make you feel inadequate and to reinforce how little you do know, about anything. There were two plaques that listed the sculptures, their titles and the names of the creators. Each had a corresponding picture, you know, for the philistines and non-art lovers who wouldn't know a Koons from a Gober. They are the names of contemporary sculptors dear reader, Google them. I did, for obvious reasons.

The view from the top.

Not to boast but I recognised two of the art works, one of Persephone and another, a local indigenous work of the head of a parrot. A dreaming piece. Aside from that, well, whatever.  I read the titles and it still didn't help.

Persephone

The dreaming

While Jayne was waiting on the wall above the sculpture garden and I was wandering around, dazed and confused, camera in hand, a tour bus arrived and the guide was overheard to explain the 'concept' behind the park. Apparently it was thought an excellent idea to hold a sculpture competition, until the sculptures arrived and were judged. Awkward silence, shuffling of feet, eyes cast downwards ... um, so, now what do we do with them? It's almost a scene that could come from The Castle (Google it millennials). And so the Sculpture Park was born, a sufficient distance from town so as not to cause angst.

No doubt, dear reader, you picked up today's title reference. Dazed and Confused a classic song from 1969 from the equally classic rock band, Led Zeppelin. For the purpose of educating the young ones out there, click here and turn the volume up. One day I'll do a dummy link to Bing Crosby.

Three from three, so far on our list. Next stop Lyndoch, for lunch at the Lord Lyndoch Hotel. There's not a lot going on at Lyndoch but there are a couple of good places to eat - The Lord Lyndoch and just across the road,  The Table. Today we opted for a pub lunch, if for no other reason than we were amazed at the offerings of the pubs when we visited 40 years ago.

Lunch was a mammoth affair. Extremely large serving sizes. I have never been brought to an eating standstill by a chicken schnitty. Until today. It was massive. I would not want to run into a chicken of that size at night. Jayne had pork ribs, the half serve, and was pleased with that choice. We did commence with garlic sourdough and croquettes, so that didn't help, but wow, big serves. The staff were also very lovely and welcoming. We had a chat with one of the owners about a photo that adorned the wall above where we were sitting - an enlarged shot of Dove Lake with Cradle Mountain (TAS) in the background. He and his wife are bushwalkers. Extra points there. Well from me.

Just as an aside, I'm not sure how my body is going to cope when we're back home and into the cycling/swimming regime again. Lycra is not a flattering fabric...

I digress. Back to the car and the drive to Rockford Wines. We drove into the carpark around 3:00pm. There were people moving around to the tasting room and more people coming in behind us. No booking necessary the website proclaimed. Hmmm. In the covid age? Having achieved four from four on our task list, five from five was looking decidedly shaky. And so it proved.

There were people milling around the compound, waiting for orders to be filled or waiting for a space in the tasting room. As we entered the courtyard, it was difficult to process what was happening. Had someone emerged from one of the buildings, in period costume, leading a cow on a rope, I would not have batted an eye. Dazed and confused again. We headed for an open door which proved to be the tasting room. Winning. Not so fast. There were two couples inside, tasting wine - shocking I know and totally unexpected. Basically we were in the right place at the wrong time and had to go outside and find someone with a clipboard who would tell us how long the wait would be.

We returned to daylight and saw said man with clipboard. He was not there when we came in. I would have noticed - he was wearing a brown shirt. A brown shirt. A quick reconnoître showed a family of five waiting for a tasting. There was another couple who had actually come in behind us but clearly knew how things operated here, and so were now ahead of us. So we would be next. Probably a minimum wait of an hour, excluding any waiting people, already sitting around the out buildings. Now I love my wine dear reader, but as you know, I am no fan of queueing. I queue for no one or nothing. We were out of there. Sadly Rockford will remain a mystery, but you know, we will always have Brothers at War. Sigh.

Back at the Resort, I walked up to the high ground for a photo opportunity and then we repaired to the balcony to relax, drink wine and soak up the view. Not a bad day, 4 out 5 tasks achieved. We discussed attempting Rockford tomorrow, but no. They are undeserving. Yes, COVID has changed our world and forced many wineries to introduce bookings and limits on numbers. A booking system would appear to be common sense, so not to have that and then turn people away is not good customer practice or good business. I can't remember the last winery we visited where we didn't buy at least six bottles. Their loss.

It has dawned on me that I didn't mention the facilities guys putting bird boxes into the trees behind our accommodation block at the Resort. This happened the day we arrived and I was somewhat bemused at the fact that they just nailed them to the tree, literally, at the highest point they could reach from ground level. To date, no bird has shown interest - and is probably unlikely to. Alas, we'll never know because we'll never be back to the Resort. More on that in the final wrap in a few days.

See the bird box? Look closer.

Tomorrow is our last day in the Barossa. We may visit another winery, at this point we are undecided. Otherwise it is a transit day as we head for Mt Lofty House to cap off a great, long-awaited trip to South Australia. Mt Lofty holds many exciting experiences in store for us: cheese tasting, a wine appreciation (don't laugh dear reader, it is unbecoming) afternoon and dinner at the Hardy's Verandah Restaurant. All to be looked forward to as we look at Rockford Wines in our rear vision mirror.

Our friend on our last afternoon

I make no promises about a post for tomorrow, given the transitory nature of the day.

Brothers in Arms (Barossa Valley)

Apparently there is a thing over here dear reader called sunrise over the vines. Jayne is uncertain about sunrise and thinks it might be fake news, because whenever she sees the sun it is high in the sky. I had intended to do the sunrise over the vines thing to prove her wrong, but sadly our unit is not well positioned for such pursuits. Therefore, you'll have to enjoy a photo taken by someone else (cheers Chris).

Sunrise over the vines.

The Barossa stay was meant to be a time to slow down and enjoy the area. Today we set the lofty target of two wineries and a late lunch. I am pleased to report, dear reader that we nailed our brief, although not in the time frame we thought. We were out of the apartment before 10:30am and were in Tanunda for coffee pre wine tasting.

Nosh was a deceptively large café. It's on Murray Street and is in the old mill building. A simple doorway gives way to a series of tabled spaces (rooms of the original house), all of which were occupied with people enjoying the fare. The end space was larger again with more tables, all occupied, and a counter and fridge cabinet, filled with delectable treats. Bravely we passed up the pastries and opted for a couple of long blacks to be enjoyed on the street in the sunshine. Yes, my Sydney friends, in the sunshine.

What? You expected a caption?

The breeze was a little challenging at times, but otherwise it was quite pleasant. Even amusing, as a dad on a blade scooter, showing off to his kids, came a cropper on a driveway across the road, and was sent humiliatingly to the ground. Smile. Smirk.

Caffeine craving sated we walked the short distance to the Brothers at War tasting rooms. Also in Murray Street, although their winemaking facility is in Lyndoch, 15 minutes down the road. Hence today's title, an offering by Dire Straits from 1985. I'm not a huge Dire Straits fan but the song seemed to balance the name of the winery. 

Not originally on our list of wineries to visit, we needed to replace Standish Wines because they had already exhausted their stock and had nothing to sell. Sometimes you just luck things and have an awesome experience, other times things fall flat. Today was the former, it will go down as one of our gold wine tasting experiences. Given we started visiting wineries in 1979 and can count one hand the number of golden moments you can be guaranteed dear reader that this place is worth stopping by.

We walked in just after 11am and left at 2pm. We tasted some excellent wines, I joined the wine club (I know, I know), and spent time talking with Lee and Sanna. Both are former Sydney people and Lee spent years living around the corner from us in Erskineville. He knows our favorite French Bistrot owner. We talked Sydney, we talked wine, we talked holiday experiences, we talked and every now and then we tasted their magnificent wines and discussed them and their creation. We also talked about the Bunnies, Sanna is a long time supporter (current Bunnies sticker on the cellar laptop). 

To quote from the book The Wine Producers A Taste of the Barossa, "The brothers take their wine seriously, but at the end of the day, it's about conviviality and connection." They certainly got that right. All in all, one of those golden afternoons of wine tasting that you experience from time to time and long remember.

We were due at our second wine tasting at 12:30pm. I phoned to let them know we would be coming but couldn't put a time on it. Emma was most gracious. At 2:30pm we opened the door to the tasting room and apologised for our tardiness. Kaesler, another winery suggested by our wine man at United Cellars, had some very curiously named wines: Bogan and Old Bastard amongst them. They also had the only Semillon we've seen so far and a rare straight Viognier. Another winning moment. Wine ordered for dispatch home, we walked to the car for the 500 metre drive to the pizza place.

Bought a bottle to share with a friend

Now dear reader, I would be one of the first people to accept that 4pm is an unusual time to be arriving at a pizza place for a meal. Is it lunch? Is it dinner? Well, for us it is both. The young women who showed us to our table was most helpful and re-appeared shortly to take our order. The pizzas at Ember, situated in the Penfolds complex in Nuriootpa, have a fermented sourdough base, and a good range of toppings. They also offer some interesting entrées. They are well worth a visit for the pizza alone.

While the pizzas were very good, the service was a little, um, disinterested. We must have arrived at the changeover of shift because the person who showed us to the table was nowhere in sight when we wanted to box our leftovers. And no-one else seemed particularly interested in us at all. Jayne, taking control, lifted our plate of uneaten pizza and delivered it to the counter herself. At which time the girl behind the register retrieved a box and handed it to me to sort out the rest. Talk about great service. We did - all the way home because that was the antithesis of great service. A pity really, the pizzas were great.

Lunch/dinner completed, leftover pizza boxed, we turned toward the Barossa Resort and our balcony.

And how to cap off an excellent day? The Bunnies smashed arch rivals Easts, Buddy Franklin kicked his 1,000 goal as the Swans put the sword to Geelong and the Australian Men's Cricket Team won the match and series in Pakistan.

Until tomorrow.

I saw the light (Barossa Valley)

Another day begins. It's very quiet here: not a siren to be heard, unlike home. Last night, the stars showed some promise before the cloud drifted in and spoiled the view - maybe tonight will be better. In a first for this trip, we actually switched on the TV last night to watch Micallef's Mad As Hell. I seriously rate that show and his razor sharp wit. Not sure if he thinks he has been axed by the powers that be, but he seems to have thrown caution to the wind in the last 3 weeks - or is it the slow climb to the crescendo of the forthcoming election? Either way, it cannot be missed.

Since we have a kitchenette, we thought we should make use of it and shopped for some breakfast and happy hour essentials yesterday afternoon. The first morning task (after wordle and quordle) was to wash up anything and everything we might use in the next four days. Then it was time for tea and toast before a winery visit. What did you really expect, dear reader? We are in the Barossa Valley.

As I have mentioned, our last visit to this area was over 40 years ago. While some things have stayed the same, one thing that hasn't is the number of wineries. There are far too many to visit and it is no simple task to discern which wineries are worthy of our hard earned cash. Probably they all are, to some degree, but we have little time and need to be selective. Our usual practice has been to have a local recommend a winery and visit it and ask them where they would go if they had limited time. In a departure from tradition, I emailed my Cellar Angel from United Cellars, Nestor, and asked which wineries he would visit. He provided a list of five, one of which has already sold out its stock of wine, so we will supplement with another.

Back in the day, we would easily cover four or five wineries a day, sometimes six. Sitting on the balcony, tapping away at the keys after sampling the wares of two vintners today, I wonder how we managed it. Our taste buds would have been traumatised by the day's end.

Palm trees line the roads

First stop today Seppeltsfield, a winery I would have not have chosen but I'm glad we visited. Navigating the Barossa roads is not difficult although it's not usual for a single named road to have a series of right angle bends and continue in a completely different direction. As we neared Seppeltsfield, we could see that the road is lined with date palms. Mature trees, both sides of the road. "There's obviously a story there," we remarked. Patience dear reader, we'll get to it.

Sorry, the sun was in the wrong spot

As we rounded one corner in the road, we were confronted with a massive stone building on the hill. It resembled a Greek temple. The stairway to the the door was also lined with palms. Espying a parking area, I pulled off the road much to Jayne's confusion, but there was no way I was driving past without stopping. It was, as I thought, a mausoleum, the Seppelt family mausoleum. It was built in 1927 and Joe, the patriarch was interred there in 1930. Apparently, in the afterlife, he wanted to be able to survey all he had built in this life. It is a truly excellent view over the whole area. Since then the mausoleum has become the resting place for all members of the Seppelt family.

Palm trees again

Seppeltsfield Winery was only a few minutes down the road and we arrived early enough to have a coffee. This was a good thing for many reasons, not the least of which was we had both cleaned our teeth as we walked out the door. That's a rookie error because every wine you taste early in the day is flavoured by the mint of the toothpaste. In fact, you don't really taste the wine at all. Now dear reader you would realise that we are not rookies and have enjoyed the occasional wine tasting over the years. Unforgivable really. As Jayne confessed her sin, I smiled and leaned forward and quietly said, "Me too."

The view from the mausoleum

Coffee done, we moved on to the wine tasting. COVID has changed many things in our world and it has certainly had an impact on how wineries operate. Many now only provide tastings if you've pre-booked, numbers are limited, the range of wines on offer is also pared back and there is a tasting charge - generally redeemable on the purchase of a couple of bottles. You will be astonished dear reader to know that never, ever, have I had to pay to taste wine. And today that record remains intact.

Another view from the mausoleum

The lovely Maddie talked us and walked us through the wines available for tasting. In keeping with the Barossa tradition she also wanted to know our names. We exceeded our allocated 45 minutes, no surprises there, and finished chatting with one of the other staffers as well. The wines were excellent and there will be a carton wending it's way back home very soon. Our discussions were wide ranging including Para port and the fact that we had tasted the 1930 vintage. While the port is still made, sadly the old bottle style no longer exists, the makers went out of business. The last vintage in the old bottle was 1992. They still have barrels and barrels of the wine but no bottles to put it in!

The palm trees? You'd thought I'd forgotten ... they were a part of an employment program during the Great Depression. A time where Liberal Governments didn't have huge stores of money to splash around to ensure re-election ... or to help people ... in times of flood, drought or bushfire. The Seppelt family looked after their workers by having them plant avenues of date palms. It is a curiously impressive sight. 

It was an excellent morning and it was very tempting to stay for lunch, but I was keen for some more basic fare and we asked for pub food recommendations. I rejected the first suggestion as too basic, burgers and not much beside, the closest option was the Vine Inn. The menu was quite substantial but, yeah, let's just leave it there.

We stopped at a supermarket to purchase some water. In bulk. The water here is not the best. This is somewhat surprising because we have been drinking water from the tap at all other points so far. It was here that I came across the first trolley sanitizer. Speechless.

With the afternoon in front of us, we ventured to Torbreck Wines. Another excellent choice. The tasting room is lovely and has a beautiful aspect overlooking an olive grove and their gardens. The olives are planted in an area of water egress through the property and do a wonderful job in soaking up the water before it reaches the grapes, ensuring their feet stay dry. 

Towards the olives

Fortunately, after a busy morning, we were the only visitors. Once again we sipped our way through one of the tasting menus. It wasn't really a choice, one option sampled a selection from their range, the other was focused on their aged reds. Tempting, but not for this trip. 

Manicured gardens

Wines purchased, repatriation to NSW arranged we drove back to the Resort and the balcony (with a now free-sliding door) to enjoy the encroaching evening, a glass of wine and each other's company.

And the title today? Well, dear reader, I'll be honest, we had nothing that we hadn't used before so I decided to use titles of songs that I have enjoyed over the years. Todd Rundgren is a greatly underestimated talent and I am going to use his work when I lack inspiration on this trip. This one is from 1972. You can listen here, enjoy.

Until tomorrow.

Cheers Theme (Paringa to the Barossa Valley)

Leaving The Frames was no easy thing, dear reader. Our time had been so occupied by the other experiences we didn't really have the opportunity to enjoy the retreat as we should. Hence we shall return. If for no other reason than to have a drink and a chat with Rick and Cathy, the owners. We met them in the first year of the plague (2020) when even interstate travel had been curtailed. We were restricted to NSW and ended up at Maramara Resort on the Hawkesbury River, an experience not be repeated (click here) . It was there we met Rick and Cathy, South Australians, who were stranded by their state as the borders "slammed shut" as media, devoid of imagination, have described it. Meeting them was probably the highlight of our time there because they told us about their luxury accommodation on another river.

Our last sunset at The Frames

Reluctantly, we drove out of the gate and turned towards the Heading Cliffs that we enjoyed from river level yesterday. There was a lookout structure on the cliff top and we thought that it might be interesting to see the other view. Great in theory. The view from water level is far superior. You get a much better idea of the structure of the cliffs and can see their colour change with the light. Not to mention getting up close and personal with the peregrine falcons. None of that was evident from the cliff top. The morning was quite fresh after the storm that blew through yesterday, although I was still dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. I thought I had seriously misjudged the weather when we arrived at the lookout to see two people walking across the car park in long trousers and puffy jackets. Queenslanders. Pfft. No idea of cold weather. It was 18°C.

The other most notable feature of the lookout was the proliferation of 'lovelocks' that had been attached to the wire fence around the top level of the lookout tower. Having initially experienced this phenomenon on the bridges across the Seine River in Paris almost a decade ago, we were amused to see the locks on the tower and can only assume the keys have been hurled over the Heading Cliffs, although they would have to have a good arm to actually get them into the Murray. Not such a Herculean feat to drop the key off the Pont Neuf into the Seine. Perhaps a metaphor for the strength and depth of the love that one can find in the Riverlands...

Heading Cliffs from the lookout

Back to the car for the drive to the Barossa Novotel Resort. I have looked at the word 'resort' with much suspicion for many years. Generally it means there is a pool and maybe a tennis court. It has often been used to upmarket something and turn into it something else. Two expressions come to mind: lipstick on a pig and you can't polish a ... decorum ensures I am unable to finish that expression.

The Resort is nicely situated on the side of a hill overlooking grape vines (I know, who'd have thought?) and the Jacob's Creek winery in the distance. A pleasant afternoon can be whiled away on the balcony with glass in hand. Local produce only, of course. The rooms themselves have been refurbed recently. New bathroom, carpet, drapes and appliances in the kitchenette, benchtop and so on. But (there's always a but isn't there, my astute reader?), the glass door to the balcony could only be moved with the greatest of difficulty and much noise. No not from my exertions, from the broken rollers clattering on the deeply furrowed track. The screen door wasn't much better. It's the little things that make a big difference.

Another room with a view

After having driven for a large part of the day, we decided for convenience, to eat at the Resort's Cellar Restaurant. It has quite favourable reviews. Once again, not quite on point. The menu we perused prior to dinner on their online compendium bore no resemblance to what we were presented with at the table. Nonetheless, a first world problem, if ever there was one. The menu wasn't as expansive as the wine list, well the red wines. Four entrées, two of which were vegetarian, another steak tartare and fish. There was the usual assortment of mains and only two desserts. The food was well cooked and tasty, no complaints there, but Jayne's lamb was on the insubstantial side while the predominant element of the dish was the sea of pea velouté, upon which the two small strips of lamb floated.

The oddity of the evening was the waitress who wanted to be Jayne's best friend. Which brings us to today's title, Cheers, "where everyone knows your name". Well, they're making a good fist of it here too.

It would be an exaggeration to say I was ignored, but, I was definitely an afterthought. That's OK, I've been there before in work settings. Apparently the Resort is heading into hyper-conference mode on Thursday and it is going to be very crowded, hence the waitress wanted to get to know us amongst a crowd of conference delegates. She suddenly introduced herself (she was wearing a name tag), asked for Jayne's name and then after a short delay, turned to me. Her eyes said, "oh, are you still here?" but from her mouth, with complete disinterest, came the words, "and your name?", stating she would look forward to seeing us over the next few days. I remarked to Jayne that if I heard banjos playing in the hills tonight we would be out of here. The dining room is a vast expanse with a high pitched ceiling and little sound abatement. For the teachers amongst you, think a dining room on retreat/camp with Year 10. Yes, dear reader, it was loud. It gave me a headache and sent me back to our suite and the balcony where a nice red wine awaited. Although not before we stopped at reception to suggest the balcony doors should be repaired while we were out and about tomorrow.

Tomorrow brings a new day, new adventures and new wineries.

Until then.

By the rivers dark (Paringa)

Did I mention today's untimely start dear reader? Like many things in life it is all about perspective. Jayne considered the 6:45am wake up untimely, I'd already been up for some time. Why the early rise? We are going on 'safari', their word not mine. A guided wetlands safari down the Murray past Renmark through a series of small creeks to the Heading Cliffs. An early start is essential to be able to see the wildlife as well as beat the sun, as it can be quite ferocious here. All of this meant breakfast was coffee. I have endured worse privations.

Today's title is courtesy of Leonard Cohen. It's a bit of a stretch because the river was not dark when we were on it, but hey, after 300+ blog posts I was bound to run out of inspiration at some point.

Tony and Jeremy turned up at exactly 8am to drive us to the boat and give us a rundown of what to expect. Jeremy is an indigenous man who usually works at Calpernum Station where they also run eco-tours. His knowledge was most welcome and insightful. After a quick detour to the closest river lock number 5, where Tony discussed how it worked and the role the many locks on the river play in flood mitigation, we headed for the quieter areas, back streams and wetlands.

A peaceful way to begin the day on the river

Many of the streams we meandered down were less than 1 metre deep.  Many had logs and other hidden obstacles, as well as the more obvious navigational concerns posed by reeds and overhanging tree branches. It is hard to imagine that some of the waterways we travelled on form part of the course for the annual Dinghy Derby. You really need to read about it. Two people in a tinnie with an outboard motor no larger than 30 hp, tearing up the waterways at breakneck speed - all for the glory of winning a $6 perpetual trophy. It seemed at odds with the serenity of the morning and the leisurely pace at which we motored.

It was as tight as it looks

There were plenty of birds and animals. We saw kangaroos, emus, whistling kites, peregrine falcons, herons, spoonbills, swallows, swans, yellow rosellas, red rump parrots and kookaburras to name a few. Along the way we stopped for a cup of tea and a piece of homemade chocolate slice and chatted about the Dinghy Derby and other topics related to the river.

A young emu

Tony had told us that we would be stopping for brunch. We had anticipated a muffin and another cup of tea. Instead, we were reacquainted with Rob from yesterday, who had a table set with OJ and bubbles on ice. After Rob had shown us around, and we tasted saltbush, pigs face and samphire, all growing naturally, we were seated for our brunch to be served. Scrambled eggs with samphire, asparagus, tomato, bacon, mushroom and focaccia. Once again The Frames had exceeded expectation.

Better than a muffin

Jeremy then walked us along the river bank pointing out signs of indigenous occupation. He identified clay ovens, ring trees, canoe trees and other trees that were used to make shields and denote burial sites. It was incredibly interesting and Jeremy is most knowledgeable.

A canoe tree

A ring tree where the branches have been joined

Back on the boat we headed for Heading Cliffs a most spectacular cliff formation of clay. That was the turning point and Tony steered the boat towards home. The wind had picked up by this time and trip back was very bumpy. Still, as promised, he had us back at the mooring by 1:30pm. 

The cliffs

On arrival at our retreat, we discovered a complimentary bottle of bubbles waiting for us on the bench. But first it was time for a few laps of the pool to stretch my back after sitting down for so long. Perhaps the bumpy ride home was like a chiropractic treatment but my back is the best it's been for a while. Laps done, we popped the cork on the bubbles and settled into some serious relaxation. I tempered this with a trip to the infrared sauna. Twenty minutes at 50°C certainly brought on a sweat before another dip in the pool. Strangely enjoyable.

Dinner tonight was the in-room chef. Yes dear reader the chef appears at your door with all the requisites for cooking you a three course dinner - pre-ordered of course. Karly arrived at 6pm and immediately set to work, although all the major prep had been done earlier. There was an amuse bouche, entrée of prawns and beef fillet, mains of glazed chicken and glazed lamb rump and dessert, lemon posset and chocolate delicé. This was accompanied by a 2017 The Frames Shiraz. Rick makes his own wine and a damn fine drop it is too.

Prawns

Beef fillet

Glazed lamb rump

The chicken

And by the time we reached dessert I forgot to take photos. Sorry.

In the early evening, a storm whipped through. It did little more than wet the ground, drop red dust everywhere and ensure we couldn't sit on the balcony to enjoy the evening star gazing. After the day we'd had, however, there were no complaints. Karly served the meal, cleaned up afterwards and then disappeared into the night. Excellent.

This is our last night at The Frames, tomorrow we head for the Barossa Valley.

Until then.