I love wine, especially red. Always red. I wish I was a wine aficionado knowing all the ins and outs of the whole process. But I'm way to lazy to look up and then retain all that information. Or is it that the wine drinking has killed those brain cells that would have safely stored and then later retrieved that information? I know what I like when I drink it, but only in the $10 and under range. So I guess in the whole wine spectrum I would be more wino than aficionado.
So when friends Agnes, Matthew, Nupur and Michael are going wine tasting I want in too. That is if winos are allowed of course. So we drive south of Rabat through breath taking twisty turny landscapes. Unfortunately, lingering too long on the breath taking in a car leads to barf letting or near barf letting. After an hour we're there, wherever there is. There aren't a whole lot of signs, but there are alot of grapes. Must be the place.
Our guide meets us and we start our tour at the vats. And remember I'm really not good with numbers or retaining information because I'm a wino. So suffice it to say the vats hold a hell of alot of wine at 11 degrees Celsius. (I only "remember" that cause I took a picture of the thermometer). Blah, blah, blah hectares of grapes. I have no clue how much a hectare is. My grandpa's first name was Hector though. Oh look glasses. He's getting glasses! We're starting at a nice big shiny vat and he turns the nozzle and out comes a white. Ok, I can choke down some white. It's made with a combination of the grapes that they grow on-site. And no of course I don't remember which ones. But wow, it's good even though it's a couple months from bottling and it's white. We all agree and this is the first wine of the day even. You know, the one you really actually taste with a clear palate and clear head. After that we head to the rose vat. Now in Hawaii this would be called happa wine. It's not red, it's not white. And I usually don't like happa wine. But, it's got hints of grapefruitiness, kinda like someone splashed some fresca in your glass. Holy crap I like it!
We head inside to sample the two reds. FINALLY! And they don't disappoint. Now during this whole tour Agnes and Mr. tour guide have developed this repertoire. Now first of all, this was bound to happen. After all Agnes is French. And it's pronounced On-yes in French. She's worldly, intelligent, vivacious and sexy. Now Agnes and I are both Sagittariuses. Oh no we're not, now we're Ophiuchuses. Now that just sounds dirty and wrong. You would think that we would have alot of similarities, but you see, she is quite refined and elegant and I'm a granola crunching wino. Ok, I am part French, but the only the parts that rarely wear deodorant anymore, don't get washed everyday anymore and legs that don't get shaved for far too long at a time anymore. I think I just confirmed my own granola-ness. Cheers! Wine bong anyone?
So we head to the warehouse to see the barrels. But the electricity is out, so it we can't get in. Oh, yes that's right. We're still in Morocco. And this is how things are in Morocco. The power outage is indefinite and so our tour is at an end. Agnes asks if we can have a picnic on their lawn before we leave. And who can say no to a sexy French woman? Right. No one. So we set up camp, and they bring us two bottles of wine gratis to accompany our lunch. And what's another glass of wine? We finish and get ready to leave when Mr. tour guy informs us that the power is back on. So the tour is back on.
Now the owner is back at the vineyard, so he accompanies us and uncorks the barrels for us to taste. And one doesn't want to disappoint by refusing, especially when he's joining us. Who am I to deny his generosity? It would be rude. He leads us on through to bottling and packaging. We need to leave the winery to get home, but it seems that one can't leave. At least not without having one more, just one more glass of wine at the owner's insistence. And if you give a wino some wine, she's gonna need some cheese and crackers to go with it....
So we head to the wine tasting room where there is indeed more wine and yes, cheese and crackers and more chit chat. At this point it seems impossible that we'll ever leave the winery. And really why would we want to? Wait, why do we have to leave? Oh, cause we have kids to return home to. Wait, we have kids? I guess they can wait just 2 minutes more while I nibble, sip and chat a bit longer. I swear we were all trying to leave though!
Ok, we've really got to go now. But the the owner tells Agnes they have just one more thing to show us. And to pull the car up to the warehouse. They pile in about 15 bottles of wine. I'm not sure that they gave it to us, so much as Agnes. But she was nice enough to share, so it didn't matter. So the moral of the story: Do not go wine tasting without a sexy French woman. And no, you can not have Agnes. She's our sexy French lady. Go get your own!