Today was an interesting day, in a very wanky way.
Now, most of you most likely know the word wank like they use it in England, and down here in the Oceanic. However, to wank and to be wanky are two different things.
Wanky is the same as being artsy/fartsy. And to wank...well...just Google it. How was my day like this? Because I went on a wine tasting tour today with 9 other people, 9 other people who knew a fair bit about wine. Did I feel out of place? Meh, sort of. It was fun to watch them drinking...no sorry, tasting wine, tossing and spitting super expensive wine into a bucket since they don't want to swig it back and just enjoy it. I fully understand why they do it, but I just don't see why it can't be a "yeah, it's pretty yummy wine," instead of "the talons are really strong, and I can tell the acidity in the earth was strong combined with some vanilla that I crapped out yesterday cause I'm so full of it sometimes." My favourite though are the Stureplan Ozzie equivalents doing the tasting. And I'll leave it at that.
The whole experience got me thinking of my super duper awesome high school of SSHL (Super Shitty Hell-hole Lounge). Yeah, those of you who know me know how much I worship (the destruction of) that school. That topic is for a drunken night where I lose all ability to talk about relevant stuff that makes me happy. And when I'm talking to Casper the friendly ghost.
The day was good without a doubt! Don't get me wrong it was really a lot of fun, and we had lunch at an Italian restaurant where I had the quail and a chip (french fry, sorry, freedom fry) disguised as a fish finger. Very strange, but amazingly delicious. Not a whole lot of meat, but super tender and just - wow! Try quail at least once in your life, it's worth it! We also had two platters with both cheese, meats, sun dried tomatoes, olives, and everything else that gives you an orgasm in your mouth. Or as the Dutch would say, like an angel pissing on my tongue (I'm not making that up, it really is a saying in Dutch).
After the lunch, we went to two more wineries, but I didn't drink any more wine since I had to drive, but the 3rd one was called Alpha Box and Dice. The others said I should just taste it, but told them I simply don't appreciate the same way they do. A good comparison would be a musician hearing the perfect song: perfect structure, bridges, etc. I just can't hear it, nor taste it. But I asked the wine maker, who made a comment about me (not a rude one, just a "yeah, that's cool that your honest about it") and I was just straight up and asked doesn't it all just boil down to how you, the drinker feels about the wine. Just like a song. You either like it, don't like it, can learn to like it (through repetitive tasting/listening), etc. And he completely honestly agreed. Since there is no real industrial standard in wine, then there is no perfect wine, it all comes down to the taster. However, his cellar door (aka, shed) was by far the coolest. It had the most character. Heaps of vintage random items scattered through out the whole shed, and he himself was just dressed in a t-shirt, shorts and leather shoes (minus socks). This man screamed of laid back, and I respected that a lot. The other places were just screaming wanky - big time. The first place had an amazing drive way down this hill, in perfect symmetry leading down to a pond with salmon in it, with a small chalet on the other side of it. It was an amazing sight, and while you were driving down, all you could see was vineyards on the rolling hills. Super beautiful, but the staff were just too over dressed for my taste. Really trying to push their image of elite. But this dude, he was more like "I love to make wine, it's my life, and if you like my wine, that's awesome. If you don't, that's cool as well, I just hope we get along." My kind of guy.
He had this one bottle called Two Lanes, which had very interesting label on it. Hologram. He had a hologram label: from one angel it was a photo of him holding a sign Lane I, and the other photo was his brother or business partner holding a sign Lane II. A nice, clean original label. It was genius, and about 70 AUD. In short, he's an underdog, and I always support the underdog.
Now, going back a bit, cause I started thinking about this, one of the wine "experts" amongst us came from France and tried to teach me a bit about wine. How you break it down into three parts: colour, sound, and taste. It was pretty interesting in that sense, and how they would break it down. It's just when the openly talk about it that it just gets too wanky for me. I guess I wouldn't think it was so wanky if had the same palette that they did, or interest for that fact, but I simply don't...yet. Maybe it comes with time, who knows.
Next stop, a winery that makes a beer. Don't know what was so special about the beer, but it was good.
We could only squeeze in one beer cause they were closing for the day, and so we make our way to the Upper Pub of Willunga. Yes, Upper Pub. Most small towns in Australia have three pubs: Upper Pub, Middle Pub, and Lower Pub. In this case, that's what they were called, but most often that's just the local way of calling the pubs. Funnily enough, the Lower Pub of Willunga didn't want to be known as the Lower Pub and renamed themselves as the Alma (which is soul in Spanish I think). Had small beer there, and we all were dead tired. It must of been 11 o'clock in the evening by that time. Look at the watch, it was just 19.00. 7 o'clock and a bunch of 20 something year olds were dead tired. Amazing. I had never seen anything like it. Head back home and just chill for the rest of the evening.
Continued writing 7/04/10
Not a whole lot to report for today except I got my ear stretched out to 4mm (not very painful, but I really felt it - bad).
Cleaned and flushed my radiator today, which got me talking to the people across the street and got to borrow some of their tools. I love Australian way of life. It's just not Swedish. It's so much better. They take care of one another. It wouldn't be the same in Sydney, but it's still better than Sweden. My most memorable experience of kindliness from a stranger in Sydney was when someone was going to pay for my bus fair. Small gesture, but it meant a lot to me. He didn't pay, but the fact he was willing to made my heart warm. Here though, or in Tassie, it's more like: "Hey come over for some beers (or lunch, dinner, etc), don't bring anything but your appetite." Oh, these are from complete strangers by the way. Yeah man, different mentality down here.
Aaaaaand I talk to the Troll and my mom via Skype tonight...only like 15 minutes ago, which was really nice. Cool to see their faces again.
Hmm...what - OH YEAH! I went to Adelaide for Easter, and everything was closed, pretty sad. But on my way back, I was driving along the coast, and I smelled the salty sea. Park my car and jump straight in. Splashing around, and there was a group of guys playing football next to me, and then one of them just freaks and starts pointing into the water. I turn around, waiting for something to happen. 3 meters in front of me a dorsal fin breaches the water and blows out some air. A dolphin, swam past me, 3 meters away. What a great way to end the day, eh?
And I leave you with this one photo.
Now, most of you most likely know the word wank like they use it in England, and down here in the Oceanic. However, to wank and to be wanky are two different things.
Wanky is the same as being artsy/fartsy. And to wank...well...just Google it. How was my day like this? Because I went on a wine tasting tour today with 9 other people, 9 other people who knew a fair bit about wine. Did I feel out of place? Meh, sort of. It was fun to watch them drinking...no sorry, tasting wine, tossing and spitting super expensive wine into a bucket since they don't want to swig it back and just enjoy it. I fully understand why they do it, but I just don't see why it can't be a "yeah, it's pretty yummy wine," instead of "the talons are really strong, and I can tell the acidity in the earth was strong combined with some vanilla that I crapped out yesterday cause I'm so full of it sometimes." My favourite though are the Stureplan Ozzie equivalents doing the tasting. And I'll leave it at that.
The whole experience got me thinking of my super duper awesome high school of SSHL (Super Shitty Hell-hole Lounge). Yeah, those of you who know me know how much I worship (the destruction of) that school. That topic is for a drunken night where I lose all ability to talk about relevant stuff that makes me happy. And when I'm talking to Casper the friendly ghost.
The day was good without a doubt! Don't get me wrong it was really a lot of fun, and we had lunch at an Italian restaurant where I had the quail and a chip (french fry, sorry, freedom fry) disguised as a fish finger. Very strange, but amazingly delicious. Not a whole lot of meat, but super tender and just - wow! Try quail at least once in your life, it's worth it! We also had two platters with both cheese, meats, sun dried tomatoes, olives, and everything else that gives you an orgasm in your mouth. Or as the Dutch would say, like an angel pissing on my tongue (I'm not making that up, it really is a saying in Dutch).
After the lunch, we went to two more wineries, but I didn't drink any more wine since I had to drive, but the 3rd one was called Alpha Box and Dice. The others said I should just taste it, but told them I simply don't appreciate the same way they do. A good comparison would be a musician hearing the perfect song: perfect structure, bridges, etc. I just can't hear it, nor taste it. But I asked the wine maker, who made a comment about me (not a rude one, just a "yeah, that's cool that your honest about it") and I was just straight up and asked doesn't it all just boil down to how you, the drinker feels about the wine. Just like a song. You either like it, don't like it, can learn to like it (through repetitive tasting/listening), etc. And he completely honestly agreed. Since there is no real industrial standard in wine, then there is no perfect wine, it all comes down to the taster. However, his cellar door (aka, shed) was by far the coolest. It had the most character. Heaps of vintage random items scattered through out the whole shed, and he himself was just dressed in a t-shirt, shorts and leather shoes (minus socks). This man screamed of laid back, and I respected that a lot. The other places were just screaming wanky - big time. The first place had an amazing drive way down this hill, in perfect symmetry leading down to a pond with salmon in it, with a small chalet on the other side of it. It was an amazing sight, and while you were driving down, all you could see was vineyards on the rolling hills. Super beautiful, but the staff were just too over dressed for my taste. Really trying to push their image of elite. But this dude, he was more like "I love to make wine, it's my life, and if you like my wine, that's awesome. If you don't, that's cool as well, I just hope we get along." My kind of guy.
He had this one bottle called Two Lanes, which had very interesting label on it. Hologram. He had a hologram label: from one angel it was a photo of him holding a sign Lane I, and the other photo was his brother or business partner holding a sign Lane II. A nice, clean original label. It was genius, and about 70 AUD. In short, he's an underdog, and I always support the underdog.
Now, going back a bit, cause I started thinking about this, one of the wine "experts" amongst us came from France and tried to teach me a bit about wine. How you break it down into three parts: colour, sound, and taste. It was pretty interesting in that sense, and how they would break it down. It's just when the openly talk about it that it just gets too wanky for me. I guess I wouldn't think it was so wanky if had the same palette that they did, or interest for that fact, but I simply don't...yet. Maybe it comes with time, who knows.
Next stop, a winery that makes a beer. Don't know what was so special about the beer, but it was good.
We could only squeeze in one beer cause they were closing for the day, and so we make our way to the Upper Pub of Willunga. Yes, Upper Pub. Most small towns in Australia have three pubs: Upper Pub, Middle Pub, and Lower Pub. In this case, that's what they were called, but most often that's just the local way of calling the pubs. Funnily enough, the Lower Pub of Willunga didn't want to be known as the Lower Pub and renamed themselves as the Alma (which is soul in Spanish I think). Had small beer there, and we all were dead tired. It must of been 11 o'clock in the evening by that time. Look at the watch, it was just 19.00. 7 o'clock and a bunch of 20 something year olds were dead tired. Amazing. I had never seen anything like it. Head back home and just chill for the rest of the evening.
Continued writing 7/04/10
Not a whole lot to report for today except I got my ear stretched out to 4mm (not very painful, but I really felt it - bad).
Cleaned and flushed my radiator today, which got me talking to the people across the street and got to borrow some of their tools. I love Australian way of life. It's just not Swedish. It's so much better. They take care of one another. It wouldn't be the same in Sydney, but it's still better than Sweden. My most memorable experience of kindliness from a stranger in Sydney was when someone was going to pay for my bus fair. Small gesture, but it meant a lot to me. He didn't pay, but the fact he was willing to made my heart warm. Here though, or in Tassie, it's more like: "Hey come over for some beers (or lunch, dinner, etc), don't bring anything but your appetite." Oh, these are from complete strangers by the way. Yeah man, different mentality down here.
Aaaaaand I talk to the Troll and my mom via Skype tonight...only like 15 minutes ago, which was really nice. Cool to see their faces again.
Hmm...what - OH YEAH! I went to Adelaide for Easter, and everything was closed, pretty sad. But on my way back, I was driving along the coast, and I smelled the salty sea. Park my car and jump straight in. Splashing around, and there was a group of guys playing football next to me, and then one of them just freaks and starts pointing into the water. I turn around, waiting for something to happen. 3 meters in front of me a dorsal fin breaches the water and blows out some air. A dolphin, swam past me, 3 meters away. What a great way to end the day, eh?
And I leave you with this one photo.
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