Mendoza = Malbecs, which for me equals pilgrimage. So I found myself in the town where even the fountains spout red wine.
I also booked my first hostel stay in Mendoza; by which I mean I have never in my life stayed in a hostel before Mendoza. It’s all so communal . . . even though I did book a private room, it was far more communal than I previously imagined. But my hostel mates were exactly what this part of my adventure called for. Six of us decided to go wine tasting the next day not knowing that because it was Carnival in neighbouring Brazil, all the wineries were booked out with Brazilians escaping those festivities for lunches and wine tastings in Mendoza. We learned this after taking 45 minute taxis out to the wineries, and buzzing the gates, and begging to be let into three different wineries before we were about to give up. Through this I have learned that nothing creates friendship faster than sharing in adversity.
After the third walled fortress wouldn’t admit us, we spotted one more pretty inviting winery across the highway and made our way towards what looked like an entrance off the main road. Approaching, it became clear the two reflective posts were actually on either side of a viaduct that was lined with olive trees and barbed wire fencing. Ignoring that this could possibly a natural boundary for the winery, we thought it best to squeeze between the barbed wire and the aqueduct in order to search for the front door.
When we found what appeared to be a front door, it was locked. But how could that be with so many cars parked there? So we tried several other doors until one opened up into a room that seemed to be under construction — bags of concrete, ladders, tools, etc. Then we tried another random door, which opened up into a fantastically modern, concrete and glass tasting and dining room — with people in it. The shocked manager asked how we got in through the gate, which we learned is 3 meters high and has a security guard on the other side of the winery. We pretended not to know Spanish, or English at that point. Of course this winery was booked out too, but then I began asking about the regional differences between the soils, the climates, the acidity and tannins and their effects on the flavour of the wines in earnest Spanglish — essentially throwing the kitchen sink of everything I have ever learned in Margaret River, South Australia, etc., and the manager’s eyes lit up, and he walked us over to the waiting area couches and started pouring us each a glass of wine . . . we didn’t get a full tasting, but he did open a second much, much more prestigious bottle for us while he helped arrange our taxis home. What a kind and generous man, even though we basically broke into the place.
We were so inspired by our unfulfilled adventure, which took about 4.5 hours, we decided to do our own wine tasting that night back at the hostel. Each of us agreed to buy one bottle (at a minimum) to share, but it had to remain less than $4USD. I love these people. BTW, there are plenty of very good wines at this price point. And so we did . . .
Each of us had to ‘introduce’ our wine . . . and after each bottle we had to vote whether it was better than the previous AND whether it was worst than the previous bottle — these and many other rules were generated on the fly as the night progressed, and our voting was at times raucous, but we made it through an impressive number of ‘tastings’ . . . and my bottle won!
Then this jokester, who didn’t follow directions, brought a gosh-darned Cabernet (in Mendoza?!), which we decided it was only fair to taste after all the Malbecs were done. Then the wine-frenzied mob decided that actually HIS was the winner . . . his name is Richard, so as the newly anointed King Richard, I made all kinds of very-sorry-loser comments about King Richard III, and of course his nickname . . .
Can you say Argentina beef? They put on a parrilla (barbecue) for us at the hostel one night.
Without exaggeration, I have never, ever had steak this good. It was nuts.
I’ve opted for a good deed photo instead of dog photo today. A baby bird dropped out of the tree and into one of the guest’s lap. Avi, got into the tree to try and put the bird back.
