Two days in the valley
8th January - Hunter Valley, NSW
One of the many advantages of living in Sydney is the fact that it doesn't feel particularly like Australia. Another is its close proximity to Hunter Valley, a fine southern Californian wine growing areas just a couple of hours outside of the city.
My limited knowledge of wine (white, red, pink) proved to be little disadvantage as we spent our first afternoon being driven around the relaxing countryside visiting local vineyards. Initially, there was some idle chatter suggesting that we might have to pay or indeed be limited in the number of tastings. This turned out to be unfounded; the tour was run by the YHA and was aimed at loungers such as ourselves. And so we sniffed, sloshed and necked all manner of fine vintages and even purchased a couple of bottles to boot. A fine waste of a day.
Our second day followed a similar pattern, although this time our steeds were of the two wheeled variety. After subduing that Great British regard with which we are all born, we imposed ourselves on further independent vineyards and discovered the pleasures of cold, sparkling red wine.
One of the many advantages of living in Sydney is the fact that it doesn't feel particularly like Australia. Another is its close proximity to Hunter Valley, a fine southern Californian wine growing areas just a couple of hours outside of the city.
My limited knowledge of wine (white, red, pink) proved to be little disadvantage as we spent our first afternoon being driven around the relaxing countryside visiting local vineyards. Initially, there was some idle chatter suggesting that we might have to pay or indeed be limited in the number of tastings. This turned out to be unfounded; the tour was run by the YHA and was aimed at loungers such as ourselves. And so we sniffed, sloshed and necked all manner of fine vintages and even purchased a couple of bottles to boot. A fine waste of a day.
Our second day followed a similar pattern, although this time our steeds were of the two wheeled variety. After subduing that Great British regard with which we are all born, we imposed ourselves on further independent vineyards and discovered the pleasures of cold, sparkling red wine.
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