Mighty Marlborough
Why the foodies are flocking
The Marlborough vineyards cycle path runs in a flat, straight line past rows of gnarled vines, from cellar doors, to restaurants, and boutique stores.
We cyclists, however, take a winding road.
There’s a reason for that. We can’t help but stop for sips.
Cellar door manager Maureen Hamilton opens three bottles for us to try at Framingham Wines.
The riesling is from some of the oldest vines in the region. We have to try that, of course. We have to go on to test the quality of the pinot gris, and the gewurztraminer – for comparison purposes only – and yes, we can taste the minerals of the Alsace in there.
We have three days of eating and drinking ahead, so we plan to consume moderately. The third wine we taste and then dutifully spit, but hey, where’s the fun in that? We’re not driving on this leg of the trip, after all.
We’ve left the car we rented at Blenheim Airport safely by our apartment at the wine barrelthemed Heritage Marlborough Vintners Hotel, and switched to bikes from Explore Marlborough, which have been delivered to Vintners for us. They’re easy to ride, with comfortable seats. Empty baskets at the front speak of the promise of bottles to come.
We dive down to the cellar at Framingham, where cages house racks of dusty vintages bathed in a golden glow within the gloom.
Back in the glare of the sun, we are now in a Germanic mood so we pedal vigorously to the Giesen cellar door. Three young German brothers, Alex, Theo, and Marcel, set up a wine company on their 1980s OE, and it’s now a favourite here and overseas.
It’s sunny outside, but chilly in the breeze, so we choose the fireplace over the summer courtyard.
Everywhere we cycle, we find pads of maps showing the Marlborough Wine Trail. Cellar door experts rip one off for us, give us wines to taste, and send us off around the circuit.
With a tailwind and within easy cycle of Vintners, we taste the wines of Nautilus, Wairau River, No 1, and Whitehaven. Here, the hotel has given us an introduction to the general manager.
As the sun lowers over the vines, and sparkles on the waters of the winding Wairau River, we get a rare private tour of the Whitehaven vats, containing this year’s new vintage. General manager Simon Toneycliffe grins as he turns a tap on a towering stainless steel vat to pour us a cloudy glass of the as-yet-unreleased 2016 sauvignon blanc. Already it’s superb – one worth waiting for.
Later, this wine will be vinted and bottled, then probably sent to the United States, where they love it.
‘‘American drinkers find us here in Marlborough,’’ he says, grinning, ‘‘but I have to send them down the road.’’
They’re on an odyssey of the grape but the Whitehaven cellar door is at the Vines Village boutique shops across the road from Vintners. Whitehaven’s stateof-the-art complex is its corporate base, which is all about the business of winemaking.
As we return to the hotel, there can be no greater recommendation of our dinner choice.
We arrive as half a dozen ruddyfaced gentlemen tumble, replete, out of their regular winemakers’ lunch at the Vintners Room restaurant – at 4pm.
Here German executive chef
David Haase has set up a kitchen garden on the fertile Marlborough soils, where herbs, vegetables, chillies and citrus grow by a picturesque wedding bower. Haase has worked twice in Michelin-starred restaurants in Europe, and we’re booked for his five-course degustation dinner ‘‘for maximum palate pleasure’’, with paired wines.
We’re dressed in the smart casual style they recommend as we sit under the high timber ceiling, by a roaring fire, in front of a table bristling with wine glasses. We gulp.
The courses start, and go on and on.
It’s a formidable feast of fresh food, with a masterful blend of flavours – tangy, lemony, creamy, herby, sometimes subtle and sometimes deliciously overwhelming.
Our wine expert introduces each wine like a loved friend, cradled, then laid out for us to photograph, with stories that bring to life the vineyards and the characters who set them up. She started out pruning and picking the grapes in the burning sun, but became so knowledgeable she started a tour company. By the end of the dinner, we’re part of her network of old friends.
We stay in self-contained apartments that are warm and cosy.
Strangely peckish in the morning, despite the feasting of the previous evening, we devour a European-style breakfast, then head out for the country farmers’ market at the AMP grounds, for eggs, cheese, nuts, game meats, and deli delights.
We’re only limited by the amount of food we can carry on to the plane.
The town seems neat as a pin, benefiting from the prosperity of the vines and the orchards.
This fertile river plain in the lee of the mountains captures the sun, so fruit flourishes as ripely as the plump grapes do.
Members of my father’s family used to run an orchard here, so we drive past the Brancott Estate winery, which sits where the orchards used to be.
We’ve heard that the drive to Havelock is pretty, and there are restaurants and galleries in this crook tucked deep inside the Marlborough Sounds, so we head out on State Highway 6.
Grasslands and valleys lead us for half an hour (41.2 kilometres) to the water, passing Havelock’s pubs and a few charming shops.
We can’t resist the second-hand shop for antiques, and find ourselves in a gallery, surrounded by seaside-inspired artworks, from seamen’s-style trunks to delicate glass beads.
Our volunteer helper says she ended up in this town after she and her Auckland-based husband bought a campervan to travel around New Zealand.
‘‘Freedom! They were the best days of our lives,’’ she says, laughing, as she packages up three aqua pottery sea urchins for my coffee table at home.
Their campervan trip came to a halt when they discovered Havelock, and here they are still. She volunteers at this little gallery, where 10 per cent of the proceeds go to community projects. We leave with parcels and a smile.
The Mussel Pot cafe is legendary around these parts, it has a cottage-like facade and the smell of seafood wafts out into the streets. Other restaurants overlook the marina, where the sun dances in a million sparkles on the ripples. We have to come back in summer to try those.
After a tasty seafood experience, we head to the marina to find the local fishermen. One launch is for sale, $70,000. It’s an alluring idea, to get out of the fast lane like our gallery friend and wander around the Sounds, eating what you catch.
I look along an old jetty to see the sun nestled in the crook of two hills, a picture-perfect image to take back with us.
Before we head to the airport, we have one more experience to try: a sweet spot where you’re encouraged to leave your diet at the door. At the corner of two country roads, we pull into Makana Confectionery, where we watch chocolates being made by hand, shaped and placed lovingly on the tray, or popped straight into your mouth.
You can join the chocolate club, or try the nutty caramel popcorn, but I was won over by the macadamia brittle, which snaps then melts to a rich crunchy residue.
We’re tired but happy as we sit in Blenheim’s top-rate airport, funded by the wealth that pours into and out of this land. And if you made the mistake of drinking the wine you bought at the cellar door, thankfully it’s not too late to buy a bottle of Marlborough sauvignon blanc to stow in the overhead compartment. Whew!