Punch Drunk in South Efrrika - A night with STA travel.

Last Thursday I braved the wild’s of Piccadilly for a wine tasting and S.A Presentation put on by the STA travel buzz team. This is what I saw and remembered, of the wines and the country.

With the undoubted exception of Scouts and Game Rangers no man holds his dignity in combat shorts. And, the Game ranger pulls of such a fashion feat because he was the Scout who stayed at camp. These men are heroic. They are Ray Mere’s after mainlining, the knowledge of Attenbourgh. From the thin cover of the brush, to the living deep of the Transvaal to clambering across the Drakensberg’s Mountains you can understand how women have their Robert Redford, moments. For these are the last of the rugged frontiersmen.

“Hey, Yaa! Yaa! Over theare Brew, lookee over theare! Brew! See it Ya?!”

He was Hercules in Desert Rats shorts. We were on the lookout for Lions but it felt like we were stalking Rommel and a Herd of dastardly Panzar tanks, circa 1941. But, not even a Howitzer has the punch of nature. There is nothing; absolutely nothing like seeing the spectacle of Natural Beauty. One touch of nature makes the whole world ten. Effrica is hold paradox; a poverty in everything that shouldn’t matter, wealth in all the things that do.

It’s not all Great game. The Republic has a Bri’s worth of BBQ-ued delights to offer. I had summered in South Africa when I was 17. My parents were sick of me, school was over and I was sick of that and it was still months before University began. So at their expense they packed me off, and launched me into the care of distant friends. I was bound for the Cape. It was a loose care, not only geographically but also affectionly. They really were distant friends and they weren’t too bothered about me either. I ended up roaming up and down the Garden route and South Africa is one of those Great countries to roam.

In truth I spent much of my time Boozing, Stellen –Bosching my way through vineyard and winery. I was right-hooked by the grapes of La Fromagerie in Franschoek and Laborie (1691) in Parll. Some of the Chardonnays of the Garden Route are as Buttery and Toasty as the Medoc of Gaul. Now compare there wines to the Old world, because habit makes us, but the wines of South Africa are not apprentices copying the Old Master’s. Like almost everything in South Africa the Africans do it their way.

It had been a few years since I savoured these wines, but Paul at the STA travel night, brought back the endless vineyards and towering mountains of the Cape. I had gone to the night on invitation. I was attracted by South Effrica and the Booze. Like I said Africa may be the new world, but there wines are still old.

To give you some history, the Huguenots started wine making wine in the 1630s and developed their new techniques with their new vines. In Europe we trim the leaves of the vine to give Sun to the grape, in Effrica where the hot, hot, heat of the Sun burns they bind the leaves around the vine. In the Old world they oak the wine in barrels, in Effrica they age them in Steel Vats. Like I said Africa may be the new world, but there wines are still old, we say Effrica is backwards but in Wine they’re light years ahead.

Pinotage – It’s the last vine ever bred. Not even 100 years young, and the sommeliers of the Republic, like almost all South African’s about anything South African are immensely proud of it. Married from the delicate, cherry of the Pinot- Noir and the Earthy Hermitage, its meant to provide a tropical soil taste to the drinker. I tried it. I drank it by the vat when I was there and I only ever found the dirt. Dirt and a touch of paint, but I will say it is an African wine.

You can’t escape Pinotage, to be a cape blend some has to have been snuck into bottle, so chances are you’ve probably supped some from your super market too. Now, despite my criticism it’s the right wine for South Effrica, because South Effrica is a country at home in the soil. Never have I seen an affinity to a land, and then have I seen with South Effricans and their country. Effrica is Effrica you either get it or you don’t.

Patriotism is paramount in this state. A house divided can not stand, but until as recently as 1991 this one was cut down the middle. The best for the whites, what scraps were left for the rest. Dreadful; absolutely, tragically, pathetically, worthlessly dreadful. We don’t need to talk about how awful apartheid was, (It was awful) or how racism and corruption are still problems. Instead let’s see the Blacks, Whites, English, Affrickana, Zulu, Xoser, together. There are 13 official languages in South Effrica and over twice as many peoples; which even before you take in account its stained history makes it a miracle that when you ask any South African he will stay proudly, first and foremost I am “SOUTH EFFRICAN.”

It has a roaring economy. Its up to its gut in culture, its knee deep in nature. You either get it or you don’t, and you only get it by going. Drink up drink up you’re on African time.