Before we came to Mendoza there was a fantasy I had about us sitting out in a vineyard sipping Malbec and eating grilled meat. It hasn’t quite worked out like that. But cheese and wine…
We liked the 59N which means fifty nine “novias” or girlfriends because that was the number the owners grandfather claimed to have. Go figure but it was a pleasant light red.
Layne loves the wine tasting routine and here you pick your winery, the formal corporate places or the smaller family run outfits.
This one uses cement eggs to store their wine which they say imparts a particular flavor to the grape. Never seen that before but the Malbec was light and fresh so maybe…moving on:
…then we tasted olive oil at a huge scenic corporation which claims to be number one, whatever that means.
This place was pretty fancy and I wondered if shorts would matter. We’d spoken to one US overlander who ride his motorcycle to a winery and was told his riding pants didn’t meet their standard. No Wine for You.
In fact they turned out to be easygoing and friendly. Layne had a plan as always shed that wasn’t lunch outside under an umbrella. I’d have been okay with that!
You got to walk through the sales rooms at will and taste the various oils and vinegars.
Take your own spoon and pour in some oil and see if you like it. And the same with the vinegar.
We had a tasting plate to try done of their olives and assorted vegetable pastes and stuff.
The staff speak English and were really cool to us old farts.
Rusty was snoozing aboard GANNET2, which is a well insulated space with lots of cross ventilation and a fan. If it gets hot and humid we have air conditioning of course but it wasn’t that hot in the van.
Vinegar anyone?
Sleeping dog aboard. He’s older now and he takes advantage of time to nap. He’s slow to get up and he doesn’t take crazy walks anymore. He’s a little active but if we have a longer walk in the sun we tend to leave him behind to nap. It’s the reality of the passage of time. For me too.
The original olive trees are still growing here from 1889. Years when Chile and Argentina were both pushing for durian immigrants to come and cultivate these remote lands.
Back to our hotel camping.
Road works in a state of stasis.
Note the flagger, pretty stiff armed. I saw the comment about some road work happening and indeed I took the photo because I couldn’t believe it. But unfortunately most improvements are stalled.
Home sweet home.
