Winery tour: Escarpment Vineyard

March 13, 2010

“Turn up Te Muna Road,” I tell Russ. “It’s up there.”

The Escarpment gate

The Escarpment gate

I’m in the front passenger seat, and Russ is driving. Joel, Louise and Lucy are squished together in the back seat. They’re friends of ours visiting from Chicago, and we’re headed to one of my favorite Martinborough wineries, Escarpment Vineyard, for a private tour.

Rick couldn’t join us today because he has to work, but that isn’t going to stop us from enjoying a good vineyard.

Arriving at Escarpment

Driving across the cattle stop at the entrance to Escarpment Vineyard, you’d never know you’re entering the vineyard of a man who one reviewer actually called ‘the spiritual leader of New Zealand pinot enthusiasts’. There’s no imposing gate, no angelic music from on high. Just a small brick wall with a stylized ‘E’.

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The Moon’s in a video

March 6, 2010

I was sitting in an internet cafe at Bondi beach in Sydney. Just outside the waves curled blue into the sand. Surfers had left their boards leaning on the railings of outdoor cafes to have breakfast. The sun was bright and warm.

But I was in a dimly lit room full of computers, trying to find out if I had won an award back in New Zealand.

ONYA awards

ONYA awards

You may have read my post back in December 2009 when I excitedly announced this blog is a finalist in the ONYA awards for the “Best Content (Personal)” category. The ONYAs celebrate the New Zealand web industry.

When it hit me that I was going to be in Sydney with Rick and Aunt Charlie the night of the big ONYA awards ceremony, Rick and I considered changing our plans. But Aunt Charlie’s ticket was part of her return to the States, and it all just got too complicated.

Nope. I was going to miss the ceremony.

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My first radio interview

February 27, 2010

Back in January, I was interviewed for a Kapiti Coast community access radio show. It ain’t Oprah, but it’s a start!

You can listen to the radio interview at the end of this post.

Kapiti Island

Kapiti Island at dawn

Thank goodness Rick offered to drive to the Kapiti Coast, because I hate mountain roads. After nearly two hours of twisting and turning through two difficult mountain passes, we finally found ourselves looking straight out across the Tasman Sea from on high. The long, lovely shape of the Kapiti Island bird sanctuary lay the foreground.

Then we headed to Steve’s house.

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Shovel and axe

February 20, 2010

I had just hopped back over the fence after visiting Kiwi Bronwyn and Jim when I saw Rick walking towards the chicken coop. He had a shovel in one hand and an axe in the other.

Light on the far hills

Light on the far hills

The evening light was bright on the far hills, but the paddock we were in was drenched in shadows.

I knew what Rick wanted to do. In fact, I’d agreed to it a couple of weeks earlier, but all of a sudden I had reservations. I certainly hadn’t expected to be doing it now, on a peaceful Monday evening after visiting the neighbors. I wasn’t prepared.

Rick came closer and I said, “Why now?”

He set the axe down on the ground near a weathered log. “We should do it before we go. Get it over with.”

He walked with the shovel over to a spot alongside the chicken coop, and he started to dig.

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The sweet taste of chicken feed

February 13, 2010

We have a new sheep at our place. We call her Sweetie because she really is sweet. But she has a little problem.

Petting newly shorn Sweetie

Petting newly shorn Sweetie

She arrived about three months ago when Hamish, the stock agent, brought about 20 new sheep to graze in our paddocks. “One’s a pet sheep,” he said. “Belongs to my sister. That one’s never going to the butcher.”

At first the new sheep were down in the paddock beyond the driveway and the row of gum trees. I didn’t see them much. But after a while Hamish moved them into the paddock where the chicken run is. That’s when I got to know them.

Every morning I would cross the paddock carrying a bucket with some chicken feed. The sheep stared. One had a blue plastic ring in its ear. Another had a large, square head. Being naturally sheepish, they ran away if I came too close.

But one sheep never ran. No matter how close I came as I walked by, she would stand her ground and stick her nose out, sniffing the air. After a couple mornings, she started walking over to greet me.

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Not in Lake Michigan anymore

February 6, 2010

Holly and Mia put their feet in the water and screamed. “Freeeeezing!”

It was hot in the Wairarapa that summer, and we were at a tiny beach along Palliser Bay, not far from Ngawi. Unlike my most recent drive to the coast, this was a gorgeous day. The sky was perfectly blue, and the heat intense.

Stingray

Stingray (image from Wikipedia)

“But the water’s sooo cold!” Holly yelled. Mia went running, her arms flapping wildly, back up onto the black volcanic sand.

Holly and Mia are my nieces. They were 12 and 10 then, just last year, and visiting over Christmas with their parents, my older sister Amy and brother-in-law Mark.

The sand burned our feet, and Mia did a funny dance on her tiptoes as she ran back into the water. Soon all of us were in the water splashing around – the four adults and two children. The chilly seas of Cook Strait felt good against the heat of the day.

That was when we first noticed the undertow.

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Interview with a Martinborough runner

February 3, 2010

When the folks over at RunAbroad.com read my recent post, Running up Te Muna Road, they asked me if I wouldn’t mind being interviewed for their monthly ‘Interview with a runner’ feature.

Running down Te Muna Road

Running Te Muna Road (click to enlarge)

I said, “Huh?”

I’m no serious runner. I mean, I love running but I’m a wimpy hobby runner. I run 5k and I practically need rehab. You should see the other runners they’ve interviewed over there. Supermoms who do grueling 50K trail runs without batting an eye. Italians who’ve run countless marathons. And even professional runners like Karl Metzer, who has single-handedly won over 50 ‘Ultras’.

I don’t even know what an ‘Ultra’ is!

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The U.N. Committee on Home Decorating

January 30, 2010

We were at John and Aussie Bronwyn’s for dinner with the rest of the neighbors when Rick first announced our intentions.

The wall

The wall

“We’re going to tear down the wall,” he said.

Suddenly the room fell silent. Forks were held frozen in mid-air. Mouths full of food had stopped chewing.

This was less than a year after we’d arrived here in Martinborough, and we didn’t yet understand that our house had come with an advisory committee.

“Which wall?” Kiwi Bronwyn said, looking somewhat concerned.

Everyone was staring at Rick.

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Storm at Palliser Bay

January 23, 2010

Rain had been falling all night and throughout the morning when we climbed into the trusty little Nissan Pulsar. I threw four pairs of gumboots into the hatchback, started the engine, and headed for the coast.

Palliser Bay before a storm

Palliser Bay (click to enlarge)

Sitting next to me as I drove was Rick’s Aunt Charlie – a retired nurse from Iowa who, at nearly 70, still has a passionate enthusiasm for life and the boundless energy of a 16 year old.

In the back seat were Titou and Gabby, a delightful European couple.

Titou is a wiry Frenchman with a quick smile. Gabby is a petite Polish woman whose traditional Polish potato dumplings are so delicious that they’ll make you wish you grew up in Warsaw.

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New podcast library

January 19, 2010

Well, I’ve done it now. I created a podcast page, with the startings of a podcast library.

Headphones

The podcasts are readings of various posts. I’m having heaps of fun with it, and I’m learning heaps too.

My friend The Wolf told me, “What next? Moon over Martinborough: the book? The movie?”

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Running up Te Muna Road

January 16, 2010

It’s early on a Sunday morning as I put on my running shoes. It’s been a very, very long time, so the shoes feel a little unfamiliar. I stretch, then open the front door and go.

Huangarua river valley

Huangarua river valley (click to enlarge)

I head in the direction of Te Muna Road. The name is Maori for ’secret place’.

When I get there, the blacktop surface angles up. This is the place where my body always starts saying it’s had enough, it wants to turn around and go home. The bed was so nice. The slope is too steep.

But a gentle breeze rushes though the pine trees on either side, and I keep running.

There’s an opening in the pines at the top of the slope, and I pause for a moment to look out over the little Huangarua river valley. The view from this spot is amazing – paddocks, shelterbelt trees, grassy hills. This is where I live. It’s good.

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