Tasting the delights outside the Paris of the south... (Or a short segue to the Yarra Valley) Part 1.



The Boss...



Long overdue, but here it is.  I had a lovely jaunt to Melbourne a few weeks ago, it certainly was a pleasure to catch up with my dear friends Anthony and Andrew; in addition to their four masters Hebe, Lucy, Pixie and Millie.  If only landlords were as considerate as the boys cat bosses, and that's after one decided my luggage was an attractive place to relieve the bladder.  Just as well I'm not one to hold a grudge!

Anyhow amongst other activities Anthony and I headed off to the Yarra Valley to taste, rate, even gulp some of the local wines.  Things you should know at this point: Andrew didn't make it, he was “tired”/hungover.  The weather was balmy, a lovely 8 degrees in fact.  I had to break out the shorts! 

Sun cream packed  we motored north east, I dreamed of the Caribbean, working on the tan as Anthony got slightly lost...  A bit of my GPS later and all was back on track.  Laughter aside the locality itself really is a lovely part of the world, rolling hills, the resulting verdant vistas and... vines!  So we pulled in at a toilet block.



Look at that sun!  We could be in Champagne.



It wasn't a public convenience, that's just what I told Anthony it looked like (James Halliday gave it 91 points and described it as unassuming, the cellar door, not the wines)!  No, here was St Huberts cellar door.

To be fair, the view from inside the building was good and the wines very good.  Chardonnay and Pinot were the stand out.  Bit disappointed there was no straight Cabernet to try, but you have to remember that the area was subject to smoke taint due to the terrible bushfires a little while back.  Thus many producers literally have nothing to release at this time as a result. 

As we drove away it still looked suspiciously like a toilet block, but on we went!  A pullover, sunshower and   u-turn later, we arrived at Oakridge.  I probably should mention at this point that this was the AFL grand final Saturday, thus we were amazed to find anyone actually at the cellar door.  For any international (or non Victorian readers, because they consider it a world sport...) AFL is a provincial and somewhat bizarre ball game, where players fumble around for the small version of what looks a rugby ball, occasionally trying to get the ball between a couple of pairs of sticks.  Anyway, being the truly international sport it is I was a amazed to find this place full of young women.



Slightly blurred map, after a tasting or two.



Had I been of sound mind we probably should have gone over and ingratiated ourselves, though  foolishly we concentrated on the wines.  All was not lost though as there was some good stuff on offer here. Quite deliberately I won't bore with tasting notes (serious reviews will come), go and try it for yourself!  But some observations:  I had a Pinot Grigio that was actually of some interest, very nice.  Chardonnays were again very good, lovely.  Cabernet from here was excellent, yum :)  Pinot was ok and our lovely pourer/server/bar attendant was beautiful and informative.  Which sounds like I was biased or distracted but she really was and I am most sorry I can't remember her name.

A couple of happy snaps later and we were back on the road.  Sensibly Anthony suggested we really must have lunch and thus it was decided we should head immediately to Medhurst Wines.  They had Wine and food!  (And were seriously good!)

Continued in part two, which is on the way...