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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
