Wine Country

We rousted the jet-lagged out of their beds this morning to head out to Wine Country, the Wairarapa region, north of Wellington and east of our location.  Yesterday, when we were lounging on the deck, as is our want, the lady next door, who the owners here had suggested was a good resource, yelled over hello and asked us what our plans were.  We said we were going to wine country.  Oh, she said, take your time and don't let drivers behind you pressure you, just move aside.  That scared me a little.  How difficult would it be to get to the town of Martinborough, where many of the wineries were?

Well, we got our answer.  Very scary.  These pictures can't really convey how winding and narrow in spots that road was--it was like driving on the Amalfi Coast in Italy--full of blind curves and larger vehicles coming at you.  Ada was terrified in the back seat.  I was too focused on getting us through the pass between the mountains to be scared.  Here are some of the pictures Meredith took of the trip.  Again, they don't really convey the scariness.

When we got to Martinborough the first thing we did was sit down for a meal--after all, it was 11:30AM.

Then we walked around in what I can only call the searing heat, looking for wine to taste.
We came across this one, where the people were not that friendly.

And walked a little farther, on a road that cut through the vineyards

.Finally coming to the Ata Rangi vineyard, where the people were great and the wine very good.  The fellow there even took this picture of us.

We were kind of tuckered out, especially the jet-lagged contingent, so we headed home again, once more into the breach--or rather the mountain road.  We obviously made it back, or I would not be writing this.  We decompressed with our favorite pastime, sitting on the deck, and then took the train to the next town to go to dinner.  We actually took a cab home.  For some reason, no one wanted me to drive tonight.

As for the train, it runs only once an hour later in the day.  Meredith and I have concluded this is not a very happening town.  When we went into Wellington on Friday night--on a national holiday--there were very few people in town.  It was very quite along the harborside.  That did not stop us from having a drink at the Dockside restaurant in front of a propane fire.

The last train left town at 1:14AM.  Not exactly conducive to a lively bar Meredith had hoped that when Noreen got here they could go out together some night and leave us old fogies at home.  But now she has no idea where they would go.

We think perhaps young people here are more into hiking and boating than partying.  Or else we just haven't found them yet.