There are six wine glasses standing elegantly behind my dinner plate; a softly lit sauvignon blanc, a velvety malbec, an inky tempernillo malbec blend, a golden sauternes, and a pungent grappa, oh, and a water. The table is set for over a dozen, so wine glasses perfectly litter the goreous linen. We have just finished a several course dinner which began at almost 10 p.m. and mostly consisted of the 7 different kinds of meat BBQed on the grill. A local described Argentina's love for BBQ to me as, "if there are more than two people together at night then there is a BBQ, and there will be food and drinking though out the night. It has been easy to politely pass on all the meats being passed by servers. Not only because of the loud room and other food options of mixed green salad and the few vegetable options, but also because the Wendell winery we visited prior finished their tour and tasting with a picnic snack of a table full of AMAZING cheeses and treats.
Mariano's low raspy voice echos through the great dining hall like the godfather. His wine making partner Pepe sits across from him a little more quietly. (Mariano and Pepe are the Ma & Pe of Mapema) They are charming and professional. They have three beautiful, witty, and sassy women who surround them as translator, graphic designer, and assistant. These women create the night by adding comedy, games, and a general loud and festive excitement! This party, being the second tour of the afternoon, started around 9 p.m. with glasses of sparkling rose as we toured their museum full of ancient wine making tools, barrels,etc. We finish dinner with cuban cigars and dessert wines. When I whisper to my new friend at my right that, "I am not that into grappa." He responds quickly with, "That is like saying you are not into freedom."
We laugh and pour wine and smoke cigars. By midnight, I feel that I truly am almost 30 (tehehe) I am exhausted from the day and ready to rest my head. We all move towards the shuttle bus holding our recent gifts of delicate jams and signed bottles grappa with a toasted buzz.
At this moment I understand why it is labeled one of Argentina's "most seductive cities." Illuminated by a waxing moon, hectors of perfectly lined fruit bearing vineyards stretch for miles on either side of the dirt roads we are taking back to the city. It's harvest season and even the energy of the town seems ripe! The city itself was not overly impressive. Uneven pavement, speeding cars with honking horns, giant holes in the walkways which are lightly polluted with garbage, are a few of the less than seductive qualities this town holds.
But now, freshly wined and dined, I thank my lucky waitress stars for having a fantastic "hook up" in the wine world. We are dropped off at the Sheraton hotel, where all the wine reps that were invited on this tour stay for free. We bid our party adieu and the four Jacksonites walk our broke asses to the hostel down the street!
Yesterday, we took the day bus from Valparaiso, Chile to Mendoza, Argentina. Alex and I were repeatedly told not to take the night bus because it is an eight hour ride with spectacular views of rocky mountain scape. Spoiled by the every day backdrop of the Tetons, I was sleeping with in the first 20 minutes. More entertained by Harry Potter in English for my waking hours, until the TV monitor broke, and we listened to the remainder of the movie at a very loud volume.
The border crossing was easy and simple. I was a little surprised when the police man looked at my passport, made me remove my hood, and then made a Brittney Spears joke...
Our hostel we ended up staying in the second and third night was booked the evening we arrived. We headed down the street and found a place that I recommend never ever going to. This place was a Dump. Sharing an overly cramped dorm room with a handful of older Argentine men didn't feel great. Fortunately, the beds were so close, I was able to shake the pillow of the snoring man to my left (ah, gross.)
Alex laughs at me with this one- but I slept with my down jacket as a pillow cover and a scarf around my neck to protect me... from germs I guess. Regardless of if those fabrics work at protection against diseases, they did help dampen the smell of stale cigarettes from who ever was washing or folding the linens. I dreamt all night of imaginary gross things I would find in the hostel (ie- in one dream, I showed my mom a pacifier in the sink...)
Needless to say, waking up at 7a.m. to check out of one hostel and book into another was no problema. But now, the tables have turned,and Mendoza has began to seduce. Touring and tasting with the owners at Mendel and Mapema wineries was outstanding, a forever cherished rare experience. Comparing hundred dollar wines of different years side by side was awesome. Touring of cellars and production lines was educating. Watching the wine makers describe their art was stimulating. Walking through the rows of vines was invigorating. The wineries were hooking me in with their enticing atmosphere. I asked for a job. I wanted to stay, to learn. Fully swept of my feet on this first day, I knew I had to go to bed with a clear head in order to enjoy the following day. Meeting at 10 a.m. to head towards bubbley!
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