I woke up to the sound of our driver’s door closing. We’re stopped at a gate and he’s talking to a security guard of sorts. My eyes wander upon the huge, beautiful estate to which the gate leads. Holy shit, I ponder, Sophia hooked us up GOOD. Our driver leads the security guard to the trunk of the car, where I assume he’s checking our luggage to make sure it’s worthy of an overnight visit to this beautiful vineyard estate. Suddenly, our driver pops back into the driver’s seat, thrusts the stick-shift into reverse, and we leave the gated estate behind.
Next thing I know, our driver points to a disheveled sign, which may or may not have just been a chalkboard nailed to a wooden pole. Otter’s Bend Lodge. The sign points toward a fenced in land mass a small house to the right; a huge, rusty, broken-down bus to the left. Sophia said our hostel for the night was really cheap, but I was expecting an accommodation a bit more proud than an abandoned bus. “That must not be your destination,” proposed our driver, who clearly agreed that an abandoned bus was no place for three beauties to sleep, especially when we were about to engage in the best, most reckless wine tour of our lives.
Two minutes later, we’re parked on a dirt lot just next to the old bus. Apparently this was Otter’s Bend Lodge. Luckily though, good old Otter’s Bend extended much farther than my eye could see from the road, and we did not have to spend the night in a broken-down bus (although that would’ve made for a pretty dope story). A woman and two adorable teenaged dogs led us to our own personal cabin with a bunk bed, a bathroom, and an amazingly comfortable queen sized bed (guess who slept there!!!!) The cabin seemed perfect, although in hindsight, I realize we should’ve seen what was coming after I noticed that the “heater” was literally a 10 x 10 piece of wood plugged into an extension cord, radiating a small bit of heat to that small vicinity of air, no knob or power button in sight. I shrugged it off. The wine would keep me warm as I snuck into slumber that night (little did I know….)
Once we had settled into Otter’s Bend, we made our way to the city center of Franschhoek with a certain “let’s get weird” pep in our step. We were, after all, in the most beautiful wine valley in the world; the food and wine capital of South Africa. To put it plainly, Franschhoek was our calling.
The Franschhoek Wine Tram Tour
There is nothing better than an entire day devoted to fancy vineyards, cheese platters, and bottomless wine. Like definitely top 5 days of my life. The memory is a bit foggy looking back, but here’s the overview:
Stop #1: Le Lude
2 glasses of sparkling wine. 4 randomly assorted hors d’ouevres.
My mouth is honestly watering as I reminisce.
We sat with two guys from Pretoria at Le Lude because we were awkwardly the only 5 people on the 11 am tram. They definitely knew a lot more about wine than I’ll ever know, but it’s cool.
Stop #2: La Petite Dauphine
This is where I learned that I’m an absolute wine connoisseur. Before each glass of wine, the waiter would come over to test us on the flavor. Got 3/3. Krushed it.
Stop #3: Holden Manz
2 glasses of wine. 1 short photo shoot. 1 long nap.
Honestly, this is where the day begins to blur. I didn’t not take a nap in the lawn. As such, I will be usibg
Stop #4: La Bourgogne
3 glasses of wine. 3 adorable dogs to snuggle. 1 butternut squash soup.
Who needs wine when you have a HUGE ST. BERNARD to roll around on the floor with????? I’ve been missing my lil Fitzy A LOT A LOT A LOT, and I rarely get to see dogs in Cape Town, so I was literally in ~buzzed~ heaven when there were 3 beautiful dogs at this winery. Honestly downed my vino so that I could play fetch outside with the canines and roll around with Sasha the St. Bernard.
Stop #5: La Couronne
3.5 glasses of wine (stole Safoof’s while she was in bathroom). 3 lil pizzas. 1 GR8 day.
Not much I can say about this last stop that the photo doesn’t already tell you. It was surely a great way to end the wine tour (although I’m sure that many drinks in I would’ve been saying the same if we ended up at the Kong). I’m not really sure how well the pizza and wine actually paired up, but like I was hip with it. But tbh I was expecting 3 full size pizzas with each wine so I definitely felt a little disappointment.
Reply chug atcha girl.
Me being a sav again.
***
After our last stop, Sophia realized that we hadn’t actually been on the tram railway yet, and subsequently force our drunk arses onto a ten minute tram ride “to see the sunset.” AKA we sat on a little train oddly reminiscent of the one in Magic Kingdom, picked up drunk people, and turned back around. Along the route (literally 10 minutes long), I had to pee really badly, so the tram driver stopped at the service station so I could use the bathroom. When I walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the tram, Amanda, and Sophia were nowhere in sight. Luckily the tram made its way back to pick me up within 3 minutes, or else I was about to throw a hissy fit because I wanted to go back to the cabin and nap for days.
The Hangover
This is where the fairytale goes to die. All was wonderful in the world until about 8 pm, when I woke up from my 2 hours of slumber to the most throbbing headache of my life, an extreme sensation of thirst, and the intense urge to urinate. Alas, I was hungover.
What was worse, we still hadn’t eaten dinner. We probably could’ve gone without it, after eating the equivalent of 5 lunches at every winery, but as Sophia half-drunkenly reminded us earlier that day, Franshoek was the food capital of South Africa, so we needed to have at least one legitimate meal. It took us the better half of the hour, but at about 8:45, we had begun our walk into the city center. Every restaurant was either closed or closing. Nice. Eventually, we made our way to a cute lil French bistro, whose manager was nice enough to let our poor unfortunate souls in for dinner before they closed for the night. The food was absolutely amazing, but my severe thirst and booming head pain made it a little harder to enjoy to its fullest (*don’t drink, kids!*) (jk). As soon as we finished eating, I begged the manager to order us a taxi, because I was not about to walk, especially since walking meant an extra 15 minutes between me and my bed.
I wish I could tell you I had the sleep of my life in that queen size bed in our little cabin at Otter’s Bend Lodge. But, as I ~foreshadowed~ it was fookin FREEZING and there was nothing that little wooden square excuse for a heater could do about it. Simultaneously, I began to feel extreme pain in the back of my mouth where one of my wisdom teeth was impacting the gum. The pain spread to my throat and jaw, which I have to admit is really the most pleasant experience! Lo and behold, I had a wisdom tooth infection at Otter’s Bend Lodge at about 11 pm in South African wine country. I was a living nightmare.
On that note, I leave you with this video of me interacting with a rooster who was wandering right outside the door to our cabin the next morning.
To be continued…
pursuit of bettyness 