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Long weekends
traditionally inspire epic trips to the hills amongst our friends. A session
down at the pub one night - sorry café - resulted in a more sedate
version for the forthcoming Show Weekend. A weekend where everyone's
needs could be met - some of the time.
We wanted
to combine a bit of biking, a lot of eating, even more drinking and lots
of generally unacceptable behaviour. Not sleeping in a tent (for a change),
plenty of sunshine and a competitive element to satisfy the serious MTBers
(short for Mud, Testosterone and Bananas) completed the brief. And so
the Tour de Marlborough was conceived. The tour would be a multi stage
event around the more select (and closely situated) wineries of Blenheim.
That handily solved the eating, drinking and cycling requirements. As
for the sunshine ... Jim had promised that a good looking anti-cyclone
was nudging on through. "The place to be - Blenheim."
The first
stage (by car of course) took us from Christchurch to the Old Convent
in Kaikoura. An up-market bed and breakfast run by Marc, a most amiable
Frenchman and his New Zealand wife, Wendy. Rooms go for $65/double upwards
and include a huge breakfast, crisp white linen and free confession. If
your wallet stretches to it, a night in the Mother Superior's room
is a must.
 Having
flashed a bit of French around over breakfast and compared notes on Tarte
Tatin recipes, we left Marc and prepared to forge northwards. A quick
sorting-out was complicated by discovering 11 bikes for just 10 people?
We feared that we had lost someone until we concluded that the spare bike
belonged to our house-sitter still back in Christchurch. But we were not
to be distracted ... on to Blenheim for the business end of the trip.
There was a short reprieve at the start line when Suzanne produced an
enormous bacon and egg pie. Far too big to carry and perfect fuel for
the grind ahead. After a spot of lunch we swung into our saddles - seven
on mountain bikes and three on old one speeds. These proved no disadvantage
at all: one gear propels you from one winery to the next quite adequately
(especially when you're only capable of going the one speed); they
don't take up good conversation time (no use discussing the merits
of indexed shifting or hydraulic brakes); nor do you need to complete
a Murray Dwyer course to ride one. We encountered some difficulty fitting
Nikki's dog, Maunga, into her backpack - he wasn't having a bar of
it. He eventually agreed to ride shotgun in a picnic basket strapped to
the trusty one speed.
A 30 minute
slog into a mean head wind delivered us to Cellier Le Brun and a bit of
bubbly to crash start proceedings. Some ground rules were established
here - including swallow don't spit (contrary to what your mother
told you). After slaking our thirst with a couple of bottles of Taché
and attempting to make intelligent remarks about the brix level, we pedalled
down the road to Nautilus. From memory they do a particularly good bubbly
also (quel bloody dommage!).
Then on to
Wairau Valley for snacks and dessert washed down with their excellent
Sauvignon Blanc. From here we hit Merlen Wines where the tasting procedure
is organised in a Germanic sort of way. You pay for a rack glasses with
five wines and tasting notes which you work through privately, without
having to make well founded comments to the wine maker. Just as well,
as our logical thought processes were misplaced a winery or two back.
Hunters was
the last stop for the day, just in time for last orders. A beautiful setting,
great menu and consistently good wines make this a mellow spot to hang
out. The final stage took us on a sobering hike around Blenheim's
back roads before rejoining the support vehicles. Fortunately Guy had
a handle on our where-abouts and made a great show of donning white points
men's gloves, stopping the traffic (including a tour bus) and directing
us round the crucial right hand turn.
Our second
night of no camping was in a quaint bach at Waikawa Bay, just out of
Picton.
Baches are great. They're cheap, they're everywhere, and ...
they belong to someone else. Saturday saw the athletes go for a blast
on the Queen Charlotte Walkway, while the aesthetes amongst us did
the
deck chair shuffle. Nothing like catching up on those back issues of
New
Idea and
Mills & Boon that you inevitably find in a bach.
Sunday and
another sunny day. It's tough on holiday - but we punched on. The
party split in two with the cycle Nazis breaking away to explore some
more local rides while the main bunch enjoyed a languid lunch at Allan
Scott's Winery. Wrap your laughing gear around his Riesling and you'll
want to strap a case onto your carrier. The food hit the spot and we
were
served by the sort of waitress you wish every restaurant had. She proudly
declared that she was "Warehouse trained" - no wonder that man's
rich! We reunited with the peleton at Hislops in Kaikoura for a final
coffee and debrief. The conclusion - food, wine, sun, sea, bikes, books
and baches definitely mix. As if we didn't know.
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