I very recently- today, actually, but by the time I publish this it may be, like, weeks ago- returned from my mate Jangle’s Big Girly Brideazilla Hen’s Weekend. It was awesomeness. By some
stroke of luck coincidence, the batteries in my camera died just as soon as we hopped on the wine tour bus, driven Crazy Kamikaze Wine Lady. That was OK.Some things are probably best left un-documented. But, no piccies. Boo.
As we have established, way back in one of my first ever blog posts, I don’t drink. Alcohol and I just don’t get along. It’s a basic personality clash. I think both of us are at ease with it. Alcohol promises not to look appealing to me, I promise not to drink it. It’s not difficult. My hangover generally stars within two sips of whatever lolly drink I’m consuming. Cue headache, flushed cheeks, general bitchiness.
|Stolen from FinerTaste. Isn’t it cool?|
And the worst culprit for this is.. wine. I know. Shame, shame, shame. I just don’t quite feel like a proper Stay At Home Mum without a nice glass of vino at the end of the day. But it can’t be helped. On top of the aforementioned Instant Hangover, wine also makes me shudder. Seriously. Literally.
The taste of it. The smell of it.
So I was always destined to be the only sober person on the wine tour bus. Which, as I mentioned, was captained by Kamikaze Crazy Bus Driver Lady. People on the south coast of New South Wales have an annoying habit of becoming over confident on the back roads they know well, and careening along them at 100 clicks an hour, with little regard for the personal safety of local flora, fauna, or the six tipsy chicks in the back of the bus. Nor the sober one with the still-sore bum. No seat belts. Yuhuh.
Not that it mattered. Four wineries and approximately 50 different wines later, no one cared.
Whatever. All of you (especially Thea!) will be very pleased to know that I am not totally uncultured, and I did actually try some grape. I didn’t like it. But I suffered through it anyway. And I thought I’d share with you what I learned about wine this weekend. Let’s call it…
- It’s bad form to take a sip of wine and say out loud “That is f*cking disgusting!!”. You might offend the sommelier. Instead, you say “That is a wine to share with friends
who I would like to poison and kill“
- The sommelier is the dude or dudette who knows stuff about wine. Sommeliers are heaps better when diluted with a self deprecating sense of humor.
- Wine is either sweet or dry. Sweet is fairly self explanatory. Dry tastes kind of like someone pouring battery acid on your tongue.
- Wine has legs. The longer the legs, the you more drunk getter *hiccup*.
- Sticky wines, ports and muscats are good. They all have long legs. Which, apart from lots of alcymahol, also means they are sweet. Which means I’ll drink them. If I’m forced to.
- Dry wines have short legs. They don’t get you p*ssed quite as quickly. Which is ridiculous, really. Because not only do they taste like crap, they’re also useless for getting you drunk. And isn’t that the point? (Whaddya mean, no….?)
- So, you have a choice between white wine (yuck), red wine (yucker), sparkles (fizzy and yuck), port (kinda yuck), muscat (kinda yuck but bearable) and a sticky (bearable). Oh, and then there are liqueurs (bearable, but yuck. Kind of like drinking liquid alcoholic cake mix that, of course, gives you an instant headache).
- Spit or swallow at the cellar door? I’m not even being rude or sexy or anything. That’s a serious consideration here.
- Spitting is generally a good idea. At least for the first three tastings.
- Food is also good. Lunch before you hop on the Kamikaze Wine Bus is essential. Brie, water crackers and olives do not qualify.
- If you happen to fail at the last two points, please refrain from riding decorative sculptures, pinching scarecrows on the bum or using the word c**t in general conversation. At least until you are back at the safety of your hotel.
|And I pinched this one from Today and Tomorrow. *Ahem* Thank you.|
Dignity, ladies, above all, dignity.
Stay tuned for Lori’s Fail Proof Guide to Running a Fully Sick Hen’s Night. Coming soon.
* Is ‘vino’, like, a totally out-dated, bogan type word? I thought so. Awesomeness. Bogan on.