Tuesday a.m.
I wake up later than usual which is a cause for concern. My tooth is throbbing so I avoid eating much just a spot of tea and toast. I answer emails, and the talk to J who decides that I need to see a toothenheimer sooner than later. She calls back, I have an appt for Thursday afternoon. Until then I can subsist on saline rinses and scotch. In the evening I ride down to the pub which is closed, I circle back and decide to cycle through town although there will be nothing happening. As I pass a pedestrian on the sidewalk his cell phone illuminating his face he calls out to me.
"Hey mate where you headed"
I circle back and we exchange pleasantries it turns out H's family owns a small vineyard on the other side of town. I walk my bike as we talk telling him how much I am enjoying the local Pinot Noir even the Pinot Gris although I am not a white wine fan.
"Why don't you come back to the house you can try some of our wines" H offers. He is a young fella in his early twenties. I accept his invite and we walk to the vineyard where he lives in an apartment above the wine cellars. The house dates back to the late 19th century, another example of colonial architecture the house is beautiful.
"It's rented right now my folks are at the other house in the country" H opens the door to the winery and we enter. Fragrant aromas tickle my nose. The walls are bordered by huge barrels with names written in chalk on the tops of the barrels.
"They're our individual vintages" H explains as he pops a large cork on a huge keg of Pinot and offers me a sniff. We trek upstairs and plop down on opposite sofa's, H rounds up some samples, beginning with a five year Chardonnay which is superb. We eventually finish that bottle off and H offers a taste of some brandy he made 8 years ago. He brings out the 3/4 filled dusty bottle and uncorks it offering a generous glass. It is superb, smooth and mellow, it goes down a little too easily. Next is a French cider then we get into the Pinot Gris, as we drink more vino we discuss the worlds problems in detail offering our own take on possible solutions to climate change, corrupt governments and the perfect woman. The bathroom is too far to negotiate so the second story deck comes in handy, ah the luxuries of being a male.
H proves to be an enigmatic host, as he trots out more vintage treats tongues loosen in spite of a three decade age difference, H seems to be hip to many worldly issues. More brandy and a subsequent offer of a vineyard tour in the morning. I even offer to be a volunteer pruner for the day, if I can rise and shine to get back there the next morning. As each glass is drained the chances of an early morning seem more remote. In spite of my best efforts I am a poor lush hangovers can last for days in my reality. That is all lost in the moment, hell I'm on holidays enjoying an evening of alcohol and male bonding, pour me another brother.
3a.m.
I have left H's about fifteen minutes ago and managed to wobble half kilometre down the road back to my flat weaving from side to side narrowly missing the ditch on several occasions. Half an hour later I have managed the ten minute ride. My tooth no longer bothers me, as a matter of fact I can't even feel my teeth. I do know one thing, in the morning my brain is going to hurt. I swallow a couple of IB Profens and a huge glass of water quickly falling fast asleep some might call it passing out, but isn't that something you do in college?
8 a.m.
Cobwebs, dry mouth and a low dull throbbing are my bedfellows this a.m. I hop into the shower believing that if I keep moving I won't feel the effects of some very sugary alcohol. I get on my bike and peddle like the devil is on my tail. J and D my adopted Kiwi parents must wonder where the hell this crazy Canuck goes everyday on the bike. I arrive at H's feeling a little better. H is all ready with his pruning gear I am outfitted with the same. We head out to the vines and he demonstrates how to remove the old growth taking care not to prune the root vines but paring the plant down to a small nub with a couple of grandparent branches left to support the new growth. I work for a few hours or to my maximum capability given my weakened condition. H suggests a breakfast downtown. I am certainly ready for some grub and off we go. Kiwi's are incredibly resilient, bright kind folks, the lady at the cafe remembers my preference of tea the service is second to none. Oh and there is very little if any tipping here, the theory being that servers make enough dough they don't need a tip. I counter that when I pay for breakfast with a small remuneration for a job well done.
H and I bid farewell with the promise to catch up in the following weeks. He is off to university in the fall and I wish him luck. As I ride back to the flat I am gobsmacked by the generosity of Kiwi's and how willing they are to share their lives with a bloke from the other side of the world. When I get back to the flat I sneak between the sheets revelling in the smell of fresh clean white bed linens and a comfortable bed. Thanks to my Kiwi Mum and Dad I never wanted for a comfortable place to rest my head. My toothache has returned with a vengeance thank God I see the dentist tomorrow.
Kiaora
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