All the usual suspects:
Me (wine-and-food-a-holic); partner-in-crime (wine connoisseur and driver – I know that doesn’t make sense); Mr naughty fabulousness and his awesomeness partner; a thousand drunk wine-tasters/party people; a hundred grumpy wine-tasting staff members; a handful of lost foreigners and betty.
Saturday morning started well… we were only running two hours late due to my partner-in-crime’s Hudson-beer-special hangover (021-433-1496, Cnr Somerset & Portswood Rd Green Point). For those who don’t know: between 5-6:30pm all beers on tap, cocktails and tapas dishes are half price.
But with a R20 Spur breakfast down plus coffee (x3) we were on our way to Robertson.
It’s only an hour and a half’s drive from Cape Town.
We had a balls-up – to say the least – with our accommodation. It was partly my fault, as I didn’t book a year in advance, and partly their fault as they were useless/unfair/uncommunicative etc (and those are the nice words I choose to use).
The Robertson tourism website is very helpful with last minute accommodation options. I simply visited the ‘last minute forum’, picked a spot, called them – they had quite a few rooms available, I booked one, asked if I needed to pay deposit, to which they said I only need to pay upon arrival.
Since it was out in Montagu I wanted to organise a driver. I called said accommodation place last week Monday to find out about possible transport options. But they had no Amy Hopkins booked…
The owner then found my name scratched out and then proceeded to tell me that actually they were only taking bookings for two nights in a row, not one.
He then offered me his own bedroom – NO THANKS!
So with less than a week to go, we booked the only other accommodation left: camping at arabella wine estate for R200pp. Goldfish and the wedding dj’s were playing and we had mates staying over – so we thought ‘hey, maybe this will turn out well’… famous last words.
Back to Saturday:
So we collect our wacky passes and start checking out the festivities in Robertson. After watching people dress down and slide into a giant pool of wine and grapes with shirts saying ‘I took the dive’, we decided we better set up camp before things get too out of hand.
As we start setting up the tent it starts raining. I reckon speedy Gonzales couldn’t have put up a tent faster. Drenched, we change some clothes and head out to McGregor (wine estate and then the village).
Heading into the village itself, we made our first stop at the famous Deli Girls deli. Here we bought decadent handcrafted chocolate truffles and sipped darling slow brew beside a warm fireplace. There is a quaint olive shop across the road with an awesome selection of juices and other preserves, although the people weren’t as friendly as last year. Maybe its because we just tasted their products without buying any (www.mcgregorvillage.co.za). We then made our way back to Robertson, drank some Strictly Coffee (www.strictlycoffee.co.za) and popped into the SoundWaves festival in an old train.
After losing to a game of pool we went in search of food at Graham Beck (www.grahambeckwines.co.za) where they had live music and amazing brut J
Getting colder by the hour, we decided it was time to watch goldfish at our home for the night.
The gig was totally oversold and people were spilling out from under the main tent into the rain.
Eventually the rain stopped and people milled around more freely. We drank some arabella shiraz, which was really yummy at R45/bottle, and hovered around the fires (www.arabellawines.com).
After more wine and late night food we went to bed. I managed to sleep for a couple hours, that is, before the trance DJ kicked in and everything started vibrating.
So grumpy (me) and grumpier (partner-in-crime) got up out of our little warm haven, walked the 200m back to the stage to ask the DJs to please turn the music down.
We were told we were being dicks and that we should rather join the remaining drugged up 20 people bouncing around the dance floor.
After waiting another half an hour, grumpier turned into the incredible hulk and finally dragged the DJs to the campsite so that they could hear how ridiculously loud the bass was. I watched the event organiser fall on the floor in the mud.
It was now about 4:30am and they eventually switched the music off.
We woke up at 7:30am, tired, hungry and cold. I went to investigate the hot shower situation. After running the still cold water for 10 minutes, I eventually just hopped in and out of the icy water, desperately trying to wash the camp out of me so I could go get some breakfast.
Wolfkloof literally saved my life. It’s a quaint, boutique wine cellar just outside Robertson with the most beautiful view I have ever seen! They served up an awesome frittata for me and a croissant with everything for less-grumpy (www.wolfkloof.co.za).
They also have a dam with black bass where guests can fish.
On our way to VIljoensdrift, we stopped at Bon Courage. After more Strictly Coffee, I decided to try the bubbly, which instantly lifted my mood. I totally recommend the cap classique Jacques Bruere Brut reserve (www.boncourage.co.za).
The highlight of the weekend was definitely the boat ride and picnic on the Breede River complemented by a bottle of Viljoensdrift River Grandeur Sauvignon blanc (R35). The boat ride lasted an hour is R40pp (R25 for kids)Now that was a good way to end the weekend…