My Tasmanian Secrets


Tasmania is not in Africa. It’s is not a remote tropical island in Southeast Asia either. If fact, Tasmania is just another state within Australia.

Often the butt of insensitive jokes by many Australians about inbred farmers, backward small town ways and the like, my recent visit was nothing of a joke though. I came purely for the Pinot Noir but left with so much more.

Hobart

A flight from Melbourne to Hobart round-trip cost me less then accommodation for one night in Launceston. It’s cheap and conveniently an hour away. I’m also lucky my friend David has a corporate apartment downtown so that was a gracious offer that made things very easy.

But with less than 48 hours in Hobart we had to narrow down our options and I would highly recommend the below:

Salamanca Place: for a small town, this is where the action happens. An old historic square with cafes, restaurants and bars around the parameter its one of the few areas open late and bound to have some people around, especially when we flew on a Thursday evening. On Saturday mornings the Salamanca Market is one of the most famous in Australia, with over 300 stalls of local crafts, produce, street performers and more. For drink and nosh I recommend Cargo Bar Pizza Lounge and Grape Food and Wine.

Criterion salted caramel waffles

Criterion salted caramel waffles

Criterion Street Café: was literally the best breakfast I’ve had in my life. After a friends recommendation to try the caramel salted waffles with vanilla mascarpone I was immediately smitten. We also wanted to try to the corn and green chili fritters since after all, it was breakfast. The service was impeccable, anticipating we wanted the fritters to share at the start and the waffles for dessert; they brought out two separate, huge servings and didn’t even charge extra. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so full, but I would get on a plane right now to eat there again.

Museum of Old and New Art (MONA): This is the place known for being weird. Australians flock to Tasmania to visit the one true modern art gallery in the country. Those who have visited places such as MoMa and the Tate think it’s nothing too different but if you’re in Hobart this is a must visit.

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While you can drive, one of the best parts of the experience is to hop on the Mona Roma, the high-speed ferry that takes about 40 minutes to reach the museum. While not only being an educational ride with commentary about the landscape, the ferry offers decorative artwork, a funky interior of leather stools, a live parrot and even fake sheep as seats (cattle car) in addition to serving Moo Brew and Moorilla Estate wines on board. On the MONA property you could literally spend a whole day in the exhibits alone, everything from a room of TVs singing Madonna acapella to a poo machine, a project simulating the digestive system of the human body. But then there’s the food such as wood fired pizza, local cheese and meat platters and even fine dining; and the drink, like wine tastings from Moorila Estate and beer flights from Boo Brew; and the scenery, overlooking the water, the vineyard and the town in the background. Saturdays they host markets on the lawn, where on occasion are live performers and it’s just a great place to relax in the sun and enjoy chilled out Tasmania.

East Coast

After leaving Hobart we decided to drive up the east coast to make our way north to Launceston. It all happened in just one day and was jam-packed. I definitely recommend spacing it out if you’ve got the time.

Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park: There’s a reason why I love and thoroughly read my in flight magazine. In this instance, without doing so I would not have known to visit and contribute to saving the endangered Tasmanian devils. They’re only found in the wild in Tasmania, so what a once in a lifetime experience. The entrance fee was a bit steep at $33, but knowing the proceeds went toward a good cause made it worth it. The dog like animals, many of which have a contagious facial cancer were interesting to watch, as they are the largest meat-eating marsupial. While in heat they made loud, screeching noises while barring their razor teeth and were quite aggressive during their feeding time, which we got to watch (dead possum, yum). There were some other animals at the park as well such as kangaroos, wallabies, and birds so there is enough wildlife to kill an hour or so to make it worth the visit.

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Port Arthur

Port Arthur

Port Arthur: is a historical site about an hour and half southeast of Hobart that used to house convicts. Not just any convicts, but those that had already committed a crime and their first punishment was to be sent to Australia in the first place. If you committed another, Port Arthur was your likely destiny. The admission fee included a 40 minute guided tour, which was enough to help us understand what we were looking at and where we wanted to spend the remainder of our time while exploring the grounds. Unfortunately, because we had such a long drive ahead of us it meant we didn’t discover much, but even dropping by made for a beautiful drive and an educational experience.

Freycinet National Park: is a beautiful national park on the east coast of Tasmania about 3 hours north from Port Arthur. Our sole purpose was to visit Wineglass Bay, an outlet of Cole’s Bay shaped like a wineglass. Our plan was to drive up the coast, have a hike around the national park, watch the water shimmer against Wineglass Bay and then travel on to Launceston. But we arrived too late. Dusk was starting to set and frankly, Wineglass Bay didn’t look like anything special. The park information center was already closed and we didn’t have a permit to park. We went for about a 5-minute hike, or more specifically it was just a walk to the water’s edge, and decided to call it a day. Luckily the Edge Restaurant at the Edge of the Bay Resort was open for dinner. We figured, at the least enjoying a delicious meal overlooking the bay would make the long travel time worth it before we had to head back into the car to make our way further North. I had the local specialty of the blue eye trevalla coupled with the Freycinet Valley’s own, Gala Estate Riesling.

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No one told us in advance not to drive at night though. I will tell you now, do not drive at night! It was another two hours after we left Cole’s Bay to Launceston and we figured easy enough. But once on the road, winding our way away from the coast inland and north the GPS took us through another national park. Pitch black, there was no one else on the slow, curvy road. I put on my glasses because at that point I had one official duty, to watch the side of the road for animals. Carcass after carcass of dead animal bodies lay splattered on the road ahead of us so we decided to slow down even more, going no more then 40 kilometers while the radio blasted Saturday evening techno music. It was going to be a long 2 hours, and despite our best efforts before we knew it, boom. Regrettably, a huge kangaroo ran into the car from the side. Luckily he hopped away and we are still praying he is okay.

Launceston

I recently discovered that Tasmanians from Hobart and Launceston have a city rivalry. With just a short amount of time in both cities, I’d put my money on Launceston.

Tamar Valley: Pronounced tame-er, out of all the wine valleys in Tasmania we chose to tour this one. Their Pinot Noirs can be described as heavy and earthy, similar to those of Oregon in the Northwest of the US.  I had high hopes and anticipated shipping home cases and cases, but I left with just one bottle in my suitcase (interestingly from the Coal River Valley outside of Hobart). I’m not sure if my disappointment was because I don’t fully understand my own pallet, or simply because I was more surprised to learn and love their dry Rieslings, interesting Fume Blanc’s and mild Sparkling. I even revisited my old friends Pinot Gris and Pinot Grigio and learnt in more detail the actual difference of the two.

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We booked a tour with Prestige Leisure Tours, and by luck we were actually the only ones booked in for the day. That meant we could customize the tour to our liking and our number one priority was to visit Bay of Fires, one of our top picks from the Pinot Palooza event we attended back in September.  But first we made a stop a Josef Chromy, the worldwide winner for their 2011 Chardonnay that was obviously, but unfortunately not available for tasting. I did however purchase the 2013 to hold on to in the hopes it will mature just as nicely as I’m told that Chardonnay is Tasmania’s best kept secret.

The favorite of the day was Dalamere Vineyard, a small family owned winery in the Pipers Brook region. We got to sit with the winemaker Fran and chat in detail about their handpicked fruits and it was pleasant to just be in a casual, non-touristy setting. Despite them being known for their excellent sparkling, I left with the most interesting of them all, the 2013 Fume Blanc.

We had lunch at Piper’s Brook Vineyard, but I was less impressed with their larger scale production and average food. We then moved on to Leaning Church, another small, picturesque vineyard with amazing views, but I found none of the wine too memorable. At the least, our fabulous driver Michael was helpful in providing recommendations on how to spend our last 24 hours in Tasmania.

Dickens Cider: offers amazing, locally produced ciders and the cute bar in downtown Launceston was a clear next stop once we returned from the wine tour. This is real cider too, thick, cloudy and only natural sugars, it was a refreshing alternative to the bottled stuff I usually drink on other occasions.

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The owner recommended and made reservations for us at the Black Cow Bistro, one of the town’s best upmarket restaurants offering Tasmania’s finest steak. Oh my, truffle béarnaise sauce on lean Tasmanian beef, despite us being quite a few drinks deep we still enjoyed the deliciousness of it all. We made one last stop off for the night, despite it being a Sunday and stumbled over to St. John Craft Beer. I was so excited to try some different beers offered on their ten or so taps but left frustrated and disappointed. The two brothers who owned the place were quite rude and unhelpful, assuming I would want just an average lager and didn’t offer tastings. It was like pulling teeth before I got handed over the amazing Kooinda Black IPA.

Coal River Valley

It was only 2 hours south down the middle of the state to the quant town of Richmond before we turned off to visit much acclaimed Frogmore Creek Wines. We had a couple of hours to kill before our flight back to Melbourne and I refused to leave without a Pinot Noir, despite the other 3 bottles of white wine in my suitcase. Unfortunately their restaurant was closed so we had a quick tasting, I bought a bottle of the 2012 42 degrees Pinot Noir and we moved on.

Coal Valley Vineyard

Coal Valley Vineyard

Coal Valley Vineyard was just a kilometer or so down the road so we turned off to enjoy an amazing cheese platter and a glass of pinot in the sunshine overlooking the vines. This was the perfect way to close off the vacation. Shortly afterward we made our way over to Barilla Bay Oyster Farm, literally a five-minute drive from the airport to try some fresh oysters before boarding our flight. The restaurant didn’t open until 5 unfortunately, so we got a plate of 12 fresh oysters from the take out counter and sat and enjoyed them on ice with a squeeze of lemon.

The Qantas Lounge in Hobart’s airport is only open until 4 pm fyi, which was really disappointing. We still had some time until our evening flight departed so sat in the airport enjoying one last pinot, Abel’s Tempest Pinot Noir, the same wine we had on our first night in Salamanca to close out the trip in a very Tassie way.

Melbourne Food & Wine, Oh So Fine


The annual Melbourne Food and Wine Festival is happening now. Should I consider these 17 days my new favorite time of year?

Despite involuntary urges to register myself for nearly every fine dining, wine sipping, foodie-mingling experience, I had to restrain myself. Instead, I opted to dabble lightly in the water-themed festivities by attending one free and one paid event.

Nestled in bustling Queensbridge Square (Southbank) and literally on the Yarra River overlooking the city is the Immersery, festival kitchen, bar and rain garden.   In theory, it’s a free event but in reality you won’t leave without being tempted to spend some cash.

The Immersery

The Immersery

The massive pop-up venue has a floating bar featuring live acoustic music, a rainforest and misting rooftop bar serving Victoria’s Seppelt, Coldstream Hills and T’Gallant wine and a tempting menu of dumplings, fine meat selections and vegetarian options crafted by leading chef’s from Melbourne’s top restaurants Silo, Añada & Bomba, Huxtable & Huxtaburger, Borrowed Space, and Tani Eat & Drink. To be honest, after spending $55 on a bottle of Coldstream Hills Chardonnay, $30 on the disappointing meat platter we roamed around to learn a bit more about green living, explored the mist of the rain garden and called it day.

My highlight of the festival however was the King and the Squire five-course degustation held at the Portland Hotel and James Squire Brewhouse last Saturday. I expected pub food and poorly matched beer pairings but left with a stomach full of exquisite deliciousness and ten beers deep.

King Island Tasting Menu, The King and The Squire

King Island Tasting Menu

Sat at long tables the event was a mix of family style sharing and individual serves all paired to the likes of James Squire beers around the theme of King Island, a small island off the coast of Tasmania known for beef, cheese and seafood. General Manager Joe kicked things off with an entertaining introduction of how they conceptualized the King Island theme around Cloud Juice and walked us through each course offering educational tips on the differences between lager and ale, the beer making process and how to pour the perfect pint.

The meal started off with a shooter size serve of gazpacho: seaweed, a hint of chili and quite rich, it was the perfect serving size and ended with a large oyster at the finish. Also, a great paring with the Orchard Crush Apple Cider.

The next course was worth the money alone. As Joe finished telling us about Cloud Juice, the purest of rainwater collected on King Island and bottled to the likes of marketing influenced tourists I saw the masterpiece out of the corner of my eye being served to the next table. Huge buckets full of a seafood wonderland served on ice. Whole lobsters, razor clams, mussels, raw oysters, oysters shots, and 5 pepper fried prawns. A bucket served four people and that was overly generous. As I expertly removed the lobster meat from the claw like a seasoned professional in one pull, the experience combined with the taste sent me back to summers at the Jersey Shore.

Our next course, and we’re nearly full at this stage, was a large portion of very rare steak, almost too rare but also so tender. Accompanied by crispy carrots covered in cinnamon, a beautifully sweet parsnip puree and oxtail dumplings exploding with flavor. While others commented the oxtail was unnecessary and too much meat on the plate I agree there could have been a green however the bitterness of the cabbage on the dumpling exterior was a nice balance to the rest of the dish. The Nine Tales Amber Ale was the perfect accompaniment to the red meat.

Whether you want desert or not when someone puts a warm chocolate fondant in front of you with fresh mint mango sorbet (the one item not from King Island yet there was no shame in admitting it), it’s impossible to say no. Paired with the Jack of Spades Porter it went handsomely with the chocolate.

To close the day was a platter of King Island roaring 40’s blue, sharp cheddar and a soft Brie with two last beers.

After thanking the top chef Nick, Joe was more than accurate when he said, “ I think we all know the hero of the day is the cow!” I’m overly impressed with the attention to detail, serving sizes and both value and superiority of the food. Will definitely be attending a future event at the Portland Hotel.

To top it off, as I said, attention to detail, we were all given a quick tour of the brewery, sample menus from the day’s servings, and a bottle of Cloud Juice!

Mornington Peninsula


The Mornington Peninsula is a region southeast of Melbourne known for producing fabulous pinot noirs and chardonnays  – two of my favorite varieties. Although small, the fifty or so wineries scattered about it, in addition to cheese farms, strawberry fields, weekend markets and cute B&Bs make for the perfect weekend getaway.

After about an hour’s drive Wes, Gemma, Anne Marie and I found ourselves winding around the steep incline up to the top of Arthur’s Seat, a major tourist attraction overlooking the peninsula, the city of Melbourne in the far distance, and a beautiful view of the ocean 305 meters above sea level.  On a cloudy day like yesterday our view of the city was limited unfortunately however the overall lookout was breathtaking. After a quick jaunt around the national park and a photo snap on Arthur’s infamous seat it was time to move on.

Arthur's Seat

T’Gallant winery was our first stop. With picnic tables hugging the vines it was the perfect place for a cheese plate and gourmet pizza, accompanied by a not too oversweet moscato and a bottle of their sparkling. Bringing along Wes’ dachshund Frieda meant we were the posse accompanying his celebrity, as guests couldn’t resists a pat despite his sandy paws leaving dirt prints on their pants. Overdivulging, we didn’t leave before trying their ice cream with honeycomb dessert and at that point the rain had settled and we were eager to move on.

Next door, I thought it was a joke that we arrived at Ten Minutes by Tractor, another fabulous, two-chef winery in the region. This small cozy winery consists of three local farms only ten minutes by tractor from one to another, which inspired the name once they decided to partner up. Already high profile due to their celebratory chef status, they’ve been featured in many magazines, including a favorite of mine Qantas’ The Australian Way. I couldn’t leave without their 10X pinot noir in my hand.

Ten minutes by tractor

Opting for a something different, we headed another few minutes down the road to Mock Red Hill orchard. A bit desolate we weren’t even sure if they were open, but upon walking into the original cool room built in 1945 we were greeted with friendly smiles by two of the siblings of the family owned business. We learnt quite a bit about the fine details of cider making, and the Mock family pride themselves on their biodynamic, no sugar added ciders. Clearly, how could I resist not walking out with a 6-pack of their fine classic cider.

Not sure what our next stop would be, we took an impromptu left turn as Gemma shouted, “that one,” and found ourselves at the cellar door of Lindeberry at Red Hill. Not realizing at first, this hoity toity wedding reception hall, spa and cellar door has recently won a five star for their pinot noir in the James Halliday 2014 wine competition. The priciest yet of all of our visits, yet well worth the cost of the pinot.

Lindenberry cellars Lindenberry cellars

As the day was winding down we traveled another 30 minutes south to the sea to stop in the small village of Portsea. Animals were forbidden in the national park and we didn’t want to discriminate against Frieda so bundled up in Portsea Hotel’s back garden. Relaxing on wooden picnic benches, the view overlooked the ocean and we nibbled on potatoes wedges with sour cream and sweet chili as our last stop of the day before making the sleepy journey back up to Melbourne.

Portsea

What a beautiful day, and I feel so grateful to Wes for taking me to yet again another beautiful wine region. I leave you with a fine quote of his, “he’s a prawn – you take the head off, and the rest is fine.” 

Sneaky Melbourne


Melbourne is a sneaky city. There are a plethora of bars, restaurants, pop up stores and hidden secrets behind unmarked doors, down unsuspecting stairways and concealed within graffiti-clad, ‘street art’ painted laneways.

Last weekend I was on a personal mission to get out and about. After spending more weekends away from this city then in it, the bars of Melbourne were calling.

A Friday night in the city is great for after work drinks while suit-donning professionals let off steam after a long workweek. Making our way across Bourke Street, Wes and I found ourselves staring at an obvious office building. Despite the address saying this is where our sought after destination resided, it was only until I noticed the sign within the stairwell pointing us up three flights of stairs that we arrived at Madame Brussels.

Madame Brussels

Madame Brussels

Self described “a rather fancy terrace and public house,” this cute rooftop bar specializes in cocktails and punches and overlooks the eastern side of the city. The inside parlor resembles your grandmothers back garden, with faux grass carpet and flower patterned seat cushions. Although the menu and branding is over-the-top cheesy pink, and the limited food menu wasn’t too impressive, this is the perfect place for a girl’s soiree to sip cocktails and gossip out on the all white balcony in the summer months.

A colleague recommended our next destination – down a laneway in Chinatown, the door more or less unmarked aside from the small coat of arms of Berlin (bear) sign above the black paint. Up one-flight of steps takes you to a door and a glowing green doorbell. After being greeted by a hostess you will either get seated in posh West Berlin, with leather couches and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling or sinister East Berlin, neon lights and all. Being our first visit to Berlin Bar, we opted for the bar stools over the bunk beds in East Berlin and chose our respective beverages from the list of German imports.

Berlin Bar

Berlin Bar

On Saturday afternoon the outdoors were calling so I headed back into the city to meet a friend at the James Squire Brewhouse. I was excited to order a paddle and try five different brews but easily became disappointed as the service was slow and menu options overpriced. After a few pints of their One Fifty Lashes Pale Ale it was time to move on.

As we were craving another pub vibe it was off to the Sherlock Holmes Inn down unsuspecting Collins Street. Dark and rustic with exposed wood beams and Holmes paraphernalia, the atmosphere was a cozy alternative as the sun went down. Best yet, they had on tap all classic British beers that I haven’t tasted in years such as Kilkenny, Hob Goblin and Old Speckled Hen.

Sherlock Holmes Inn

Sherlock Holmes Inn

On with the bar hopping theme it was time to try something different, Robot Sushi. Hidden down a laneway this Japanese bar is a nerd’s paradise. Specializing in Japanese beers and sake, with authentic Japanese bartenders and all, the small bar is decorated with Godzilla posters, fun robot paintings and classic video games. Tuesday nights they even do free anime screenings.

Sticking with my new tradition of brunch and a walk through a new neighborhood on Sundays, I ventured on foot through the shopping haven of Chapel Street in South Yarra, onwards window-shopping through Prahran and Windsor, and finally ended up along the Esplanade of St. Kilda.

St. Kilda Esplanade

St. Kilda Esplanade

Although the beaches of St. Kilda aren’t the best, it’s still reassuring to know that they’re just a tram ride away. Sipping wine over looking the beach and listening to live music at Republica, it really got me pumped for the summer months approaching and all outdoor areas all over this town.

Luna Park, St. Kilda

Luna Park, St. Kilda

Its no wonder that Melbourne was just voted the number one city to live in the world for the third year in a row!

Where the beer flows like wine: Margaret River


Take a big whiff. Stick your nose in the glass, hold it by your fingertips and inhale slowly. Using your wrist, twirl the glass around in circles. Take another whiff. Smell different?

Ah, the art of wine tasting. Yes, the likes of France, Italy, California, and Chile all have their appeal but to Australians why would they bother trying such foreign wines when some of the best of the best is in their very own backyard.

I’m lucky that in my short time here (a year and a half already, sheesh) I’ve sampled some fine Shiraz in the Barossa Valley, Semillon in the Hunter Valley, Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs in the Yarra Valley and finally, the Cabernet’s and Sauvignon Blanc’s of Margaret River – with a few others in between of course. It almost seems like no matter where you are in Australia, you’re bound to stumble upon some damn fine wine.

Lucky for me just 3.5 hours drive south of Perth, Western Australia resides the small wine region of Margaret River. A friend from Brisbane was also in Perth the same weekend so it was a no brainer to rent a car for a full fledge road trip to indulge in another yet to be undertaken wine region.

As with everything I’d experienced outside of the city of Perth in WA, the landscape traveling south was barren. Flat farmland stretched for miles with mom and pop service stations scant. Running out of petrol (aka gas) was not an option. Music pumped, windows down with the sun setting over striking vineyards we approached the endearing town of Margaret River.

Interestingly enough, Margaret River is the name of the region, river, and town. And a beautiful region that is, with hiking trails, beautiful beaches and world renowned surf breaks, endless vineyards and more or less one main drag in the center of it all, Bussell Highway. This small and quiet town is consistently invaded by pinky finger sipping tourists and grape picking backpackers. And at the heart of it after a full day of exploring is the main pub in town, Settlers Tavern, as they quote “the kind of pub every wine region should have”.

Lucky for us arriving at about 7:30 pm on a Saturday, coinciding with the AFL (Australia Football League) Grand Final with the Sydney Swans taking the reins, it was off to the Settlers Tavern for some good old fashion pub grub and a taste of some local beer, specifically the quite mild yet delicious Margaret River Pale Ale on tap. The townies were a bit too celebratory so it was back to the hostel where I befriended Hazel from Wales, the boys from northern England who coined me “Alabama” because they couldn’t remember where in America I was from (a first) and a few other locals before eventually making my way back to where all things end, the Settlers Tavern again just a few hours later to rock out to Zarm, a fantastic live Rastafarian band who were as good as Bob Marley himself.

After a very late night it was an early rise to meet Bushtucker Wine Tours to indulge in what we came here for, to taste the fabulous wines of Margaret River. A small group of about 15, it was nice to actually join a tour that was in the vicinity to where we were staying, as opposed to on my excursions having to travel outside of a city, into the country etc. Getting back without having to pee is always a struggle, but thank goodness for Margaret River’s locality, wooh.

Stop 1: Adifern Winery

We approached our first vineyard at about 11 am. I found the tasting very rushed and detached. Being that it was a holiday weekend (strangely it was the Queen’s birthday but not really they just moved it to this Monday randomly) it was quite busy in the area and I felt we were hurried in and out. With that, none of the wines particularly stood out for me, although others on the tour disagreed, so I had my samples and moved on. The property however was beautiful, with bright flowers, endless fields of vines and farm animals roaming.

Before traveling on our guide did something that made me very unhappy at the time. She asked everyone to get on the bus and to sit next to someone they don’t know, introduce yourself, and have a chat until we got to the next place. I was not interested in playing this game one bit, so I sat in the row with the single seat hoping it would save me while I heard my friend Louise chiming away a few rows behind me. In the end I spoke to my neighbor Caitlin, who coincidentally is also from Brisbane and was traveling by herself. Darnist thing, now she’s our friend and we’re organizing dinner parties and making introductions to our groups of friends back in town.

Stop 2: Brookwood Estate

We started the tasting with a sweet yet soft sip of the bubbles. Hmmm, yes I can dig this. Normally I don’t purchase the bubbles but with summer nearly here I envisioned myself sitting in the local park with a glass of these bubbles soaking up the rays with some friends and so I forked over the $30 for a bottle to live out my new fantasy. I was also a strong fan of the Shiraz Cabernet 2010 but at the time only wanted to commit to one, so the bubbles it was.

Unfortunately however I found the staff very rude. While trying to decide, Shiraz/Cab verses bubbles, shiraz/cab verses bubbles, shiraz/cab verses bubbles I was hoping to gain a bit more information about the wines, as I also was purchasing a SSB (Semillon Sauvignon Blanc) for the colleague who’s house I stayed at the week prior, and just found this one staff member’s demeanor downright snooty and unappreciative of my business. In the end I still bought the wines, because they were mighty tasty, however I strongly feel it can’t go unsaid.

But then it was lunch time, wahoo! Sitting out on the veranda looking out over the vineyard I sipped the purchased glass of the aforementioned Shiraz/Cabernet Sauvignon 2010 since it wasn’t coming home with me and indulged in delights such as smoked crocodile, fresh pumpkin bread, and locally crafted chutneys and spreads. It was a bit unique offering of cold tapas but in the end was very satisfying and a great intense mixture of flavors.

Then the fun really began. Our guide offered up the witchetty grub to the group. Say what? Yes, it’s a bug or technically moth larvae and is a traditional provision for Aboriginals. The first person who raised their hand got to choose the head or the tail since it was going to be consumed after being cut in half. Immediately Louise’s hand jumped up, and we looked around the table and realized she was the only one who volunteered to eat the thing. The seconds ticked by as I contemplated if I should take one for the team with my friend, but then just before I braved it another girl in the group jumped in and ate the bit with the head. When asked what it tasted like Louise told us “it’s crunchy but soft inside, tastes like a macadamia nut.” I guess I’ll never know.

Stop 3: Tassell Park

In terms of atmosphere and fun this winery took the cake. It might have been because we’ve already sampled two other wineries, had lunch and therefore I’ve shaken my hangover and sour mood but the overall reason was the hostess. She was fun, educational and gave everyone a laugh and a smile. We tried everything from the lower range all the way to the private bin labels. And although in the balmy weather we ended the tasting with a zesty sampling of mulled wine, I walked out of there with a packet so get ready for a Christmas special recipe!

Stop 4: Cowaramup Brewing Company

Yay, beer break. Cowaramup is another town just a few kilometers outside of Margaret River off of Bussell Highway. If you can’t remember the name, just call it cowabunga like I did. For $14.50 you can get a taster of all the beers on tap, which of course is what we did, and then enjoyed the sun in the green pasture out back where we chatted to some other people on the tour who live in a remote area of Western Australia up near Broome. Nowhere zone.  I could have sat there for hours, taking in the rays, sipping deliciousness from light to dark, enjoying life. But then we had to move on.

Stop 5: Margaret River Dairy Company

I LOVE cheese! Cheese, cheese, cheese. This cute little dairy complex had a just enough room to squeeze us in, sample a few, and my golly the feta and brie were fabulous, make a purchase and head out the door. While Louise scored us some deliciousness to divulge later, I wandered around the property snapping photos. It was a quick stop off, and then we were on our way.

Stop 6: Margaret River Chocolate Factory

Whew, this is a lot of stuff isn’t it? I wasn’t event tempted by the chocolate at this stage. Well, that’s not true, this was probably the busiest place we ventured to all day, as all tours stop here. The chocolate warehouse was huge and had chocolates in all shapes, sizes, flavors etc. There was popcorn and ice-cream and it was a bit like heaven I would imagine. I just found my way to the free samples, which is very generous because you can scoop out the serves yourself, and then was ready to move on to the final stop off.

Stop 7: Thompson Estate

The owner of this last winery, a cardiologist, spoke to us all about the family business. I sipped, and swirled and chatted away as I realized this was my last chance to make a purchase. Their wines consisted of the Thompson Estate Range and the Locum Range, which is the cheaper of two. Interestingly enough, at times I enjoyed the Locum Range better than the more expensive so I walked out of there with a crisp bottle of 2011 Chardonnay, a new variety favorite of mine, to compliment the cheeses we just purchased for an afternoon snack.

We returned to Margaret River Backpackers around 5 and as the weather was fantastic that day we found all of our new friends from the previous evening hanging out back on the porch. Louise and I glowing from our wine tasting saddled up to the table to savor the cheese and wine and tell stories from the day. We found our way back to Settler’s Tavern that evening for dinner and then mingled the night away.

On the drive back to Perth the next morning we took our time on Bussell Highway, having breakfast in “cowabunga” where cow statues line the road before stopping off in Busselton to walk the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere. Families were fishing off the jetty enjoying the Monday holiday in the sun. As we casually made our way closer to the city we realized we made the unforgiving mistake when the gas light ticked on and we needed to find a servo (gas station) fast. Luckily we did, but the stress got tenser as the clocked ticked on, the traffic backed up, and my flight back to Brisbane inched closer and closer. Luckily for me, Louise’s skilled driving dropped me at the Perth Airport a mere 10 minutes before the flight departed, some charming skills convinced the ticket agents to print a boarding pass even though the flight was closed and I rushed through the gates after getting picked on for the bomb swat test, every time! And only to find the flight delayed an hour. Whew. I swear though, walking the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere, 1.8 kilometers across Geographe Bay, sure was worth it.

Dubbya Eyh


These two eyes have expanded. They’re growing wider and wiser. They’ve stretched themselves up and down the east coast, along the southern states and finally made it out west. Hello Western Australia, commonly referred to as WA or more accurately pronounced ‘dubbya eyh’. For some reason though I had ignored all of my own first-rate advice. In fact, it didn’t even register for me until after I boarded the plane that I was embarking on a 5 hour flight and spending 10 days across the country. Slipper socks – fail. Inflatable neck pillow – fail. Camera charger – fail.

On my way to the Perth City YHA hostel my taxi driver chatted to me about Perth. “You’ll talk to everyone around here. Actually, everyone will want to talk to you whether you want to talk or not.” That’s the perception about out west. The population is scarce, and backwards, and slow, and friendly. But that’s about it. Or so they say.

I joined Pinnacles Tours for a full day adventure outside of the city of Perth, heading north into the vast emptiness. This is what I had pictured rural Australia to look like. Driving through the bush, our bus rumbling over flat orange-colored dusted roads, miles of nothingness, no cars in sight, no street lights or intersections, just random clusters of yellow flowers hugging the way.

Joey in the pouch

Our first stop was to Caversham Wildlife Park. As with most tours, no itinerary would be complete without feeding a kangaroo and giving a koala a light pat. So as you do, I did. But this time around I experienced two firsts. I actually saw a little Joey inside a mama kangaroo’s pouch. And although that sounds all cute and cuddly and picturesque, it really was quite awkward. Poor little guy just had one leg sticking out and was sort of in there upside down. To each their own I guess. The other first was that I pet a southern hairy nose wombat. But then, that’s when my camera died.

Koalas are not bears.

My wombat friend

On our way to Nambung National Park and Cervantes, we passed wind farms that sustain the local area’s electricity. For a moment in time I could have been in the Netherlands. 50 windmills source 55,000 homes. Pretty impressive.

Ze Lobster Factory

The quant fishing village of Cervantes is home to the Indian Ocean Rock Lobster Factory. Technically, these lobsters are crayfish, but called lobsters because that’s what they’re more commonly known and appeal to the desirable export locations. Cray cray. At first I thought the notion of going on a tour of the facility was quite silly, who cares, but I walked out of there completely fascinated (and hungry!). It was interesting to see how the lobsters are chosen, sized and then packed live for shipping. Over an audio tour I learned how first they sort them in long containers based on size, as orders come in requesting certain specifications. They starve them so they remove all of the poo, as they can survive for 30 hours without eating, then whisk them off to be packed after checking to make sure all their legs are still intact. A quick dip in freezing cold water stuns them long enough to be packed in a crate with wood chips and shipped overseas. Visitors can then dine at The Lobster Shack or nibble off the tours supplied lunch that was very unimpressive and underwhelming. I should have paid the extra $30 for the lobster.

Big guy, all legs intact

About 250 kilometers northeast of Perth lay Nambung National Park, and the Pinnacles Desert. This is what I’ve been waiting for! Sand dunes more or less comprising of calcified plants and trees that formed crazy looking limestone formations sticking out of the earth, a zillion times over. Breathtaking is an understatement, mesmerizing is more like it.

One with the desert

To me, this represented the true desert in my mind. Rock structures of all shapes and sizes extending for miles. The cold wind blowing against my ear, the fine grains of sand into my eyes and the fresh air abundant. There were tourists, but not a ridiculous amount. You could easily walk a few feet in one direction and have nothingness stretched out in front of you. The Indian Ocean resting on one side, and endless counts of mounds in every other direction with green shrubbery scattered in between. I wanted to just take a seat to take it all in. I felt like I had been let in on some secret, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. If it wasn’t for the tourists, the only sound was the rush of wind.

The Pinnacles

Traveling on to Lancelin making our way back down south, I saw heaps of animals in the wild. There were kangaroos, cows, horses, sheep but another first, an emu – the largest bird native to Australia.

Lancelin is another small fishing village but also a place to explore the massive dunes on four-wheel drive or better yet, taking up the sport of sand boarding. Now, I’ve heard of this being done in the far North of New Zealand which I missed out on, and in Peru, but here was an opportunity right here in Australia. Let’s face it, I was nervous and scared. The dunes were mammoth but all the locals didn’t mind as they casually and expertly glided down. The sand boards provided were the sitting down kind, not the standing up (thank goodness), and so I forced myself to give it a go. Actually, it was quite exhilarating and I attempted one or two more shoddy slides down the substantial hill before taking a spectators seat and offering my board to another.  A few hours drive back to Perth and my tour was over. Whew, what a long day.

Hiking up to board down

Now, back at the YHA it was about 8 pm and I needed to make a decision – what to do tomorrow? Clearly the only way to decide whether to adventure to Rottnest Island or take a leisure day in Fremantle was to think it over a few pints. Down at Packaz Backpacker Bar within the hostel I made friends with Irish lads Mark and Darren who were over here earning some fine Australian dollars to send back to their families in Ireland. According to them, the YHA was like a hotel. Hmmm. I must have missed something here. The damn Irish, they’re everywhere here in Australia. But at about 1 am it was decided, both! I booked myself on the 8:30 am ferry to Rottnest that cost $92 roundtrip with a return at 2:30 pm dropping me in Fremantle. Done deal.

The Rottnest Express was quite an ordeal. The early ferry was crawling with tourists, screaming kids and crying babies and was fully packed. It took about an hour to get to Fremantle to board more passengers, then another 25 minutes to the Island. It was an hour late and I was feeling a bit seedy on the open sea but at least the commentary on board was informative. The ultimate Rottnest experience is to rent a bike and peddle to the little alcoves all over the island to take in some of Australia’s best beaches. Unfortunately for me, the bike line was way too long and I was running short on time so had to travel on foot, which means I didn’t get very far.

As soon as I hit land, escaped the tourists and walked along the beach alone, with the sun beaming on my face, my hangover was instantly cleared and a smile was slapped across it. I realized that the silly move of booking the ferry at 1 am wasn’t so silly after all and well worth it. I made it to Thompson Bay and had the whole beach to myself. Then I went for a wander amongst some of the hiking trails, that is until I heard little critters in the bush and started to get freaked out. I came face to face with a furry quokka – a marsupial known to roam the island, and although harmless, told the little bugger to piss right off. When I came across the sign that read “beware of venomous snakes”, I knew it was time for me to go! In the end, I wish I had more time, and look forward to going back to explore the other beaches, snorkel areas, and hiking trails around the island.

Danger!

Next stop Fremantle or Freo as it’s commonly known as. This is supposed to be the cool place. Everyone in Perth knows Freo is where it’s at. It’s on the water, has great restaurants, history, boutiques and is a university town. I stopped off at E Shed markets, which reminded me a bit of Seattle, although I didn’t purchase anything from the stalls. Home of Little Creatures Brewery, I detoured for a pint of their Pip Squeak Cider for a break in the sun and people watching. They offer free tours at 1, 2 and 3 pm daily but I just missed it. Next I was off to Cicerellos known as WA’s first fish and chip shop. Served in paper and doused in vinegar it brought back nostalgia of my first true fish and chips in the Cotswold’s, England in 1996. This was a good day, and I’m happy!

Freo just gave off good vibes. In the green patch of the Esplanade children played cricket, families had picnics, and all the locals were enjoying the outdoors. I stumbled upon some other  markets, some more Irish accents, and then hopped the train back to Perth to meet a colleague.

3 nights I stayed with my welcoming colleague who made her home mine. Home cooked meals, washing done, we visited a few local universities and toured some other sites like Kings Park ,which is bigger than Central Park, and sits above the beautiful Perth skyline lit up at night. I then moved on to Kings Perth Hotel in the center of the city, do not stay here it’s disgusting, yet was the only hotel in town that didn’t cost $400 a night, while attending a conference for the next few days.

Look out from Kings Park

Saturday I was off to another fine wine region, Margaret River. Stay tuned…

Scratch This


Listen all of y’all this is sabotage! Listen all of y’all this is sabotage! Apparently this popular Beastie Boys song was on repeat all day last Thursday at The Scratch, craft beer bar extraordinaire, in preparation for the Yeastie Boys event held that evening.

Spell Check is on mind you. That reads Yeastie Boys, the boutique New Zealand brewery specializing in taste bud exploding, nostril flaring nip.  Brew master Stu made a pit stop in good ole Brissy, somewhere he hasn’t been since the late 80’s, to share with us beer loving folk a tale or two to compliment his flavorful science experiments.

Now picture yourself in a basement. Start with four walls, hanging from are oddities like a horned animal skull set above an unpolished piano and an oversized old-school brass record player speaker cut in half. Now, in the far corner add in your grandmothers chez lounge, only it’s been in the garage unused for a few years. Then there is the green couch from your Aunt Myrtle’s tea room, complete with a plush velvet finish. A makeshift table is made from a solo snare drum; don’t tap too loud now. Toward the back of the room a miniature Asian table sits about two feet from the floor, with tiny chairs to go around it, to give your back an awesome hunch.

This is no basement. It sure feels like one to me though. You know, like where you hung out as a teenager sneaking beers and talking gossip with your friends. (Mine was actually a shed out back of a friend’s house, instead of underground but you get the point). The place gives you a sense of…I feel good, I’m with my friends, this furniture has seen its day, good times!

This is the best new bar to hit Brisbane, and of all unsuspecting suburbs, Milton. Upon walking in you’re greeted by what can only seem like old time buds, three dear friends who opened the place just a few months back, with a sampler of what’s on tap today. See that’s how it works here, there’s no fancy nitrogen tap system installed by big name distributers. The boys themselves wheel in the kegs of local microbrews from the alley out back, hook them up to one of the four taps, and when they go, they’re gone. Scratch one off the list and bring in another! I mean, that’s what the chalk board is for, right?

Clearly this is the new local for obvious reasons.

The Scratch

The boys were selling tickets to the Yeastie Boys event weeks in advance, and for $35 we couldn’t refuse their beer loving enticement.  The ticket included 5 healthy samples of Yeastie Boys offerings, including a surprise beer on the newly installed hand pump, in addition to a full crisp beer on arrival. Add to the fact that the boys were around making sure our complimentary shelled peanuts, a Scratch staple, we’re fully filled in between rounds of local cheeses being shared throughout the bar. They’re smart these boys, they’re cute too, but they’re damn smart.

The beer on arrival was the American style, super hoppy, Digital IPA from the tap, and so I was shocked when the first beer of the tasting was the Pot Kettle Black from a bottle. This delicious black IPA, or what others would describe as a hoppy porter, is Yeastie Boys’ biggest seller, bringing in 50% of sales. Mmmm, it’s fantastic, but why so dark so fast? What I had no idea in advance was that Stu himself had received hate mail in response to some of his brews being so alarmingly potent, and therefore, we were starting with the easy stuff. Yikes! I’m glad another advantage of this place is that you can bring in outside food, and with the number of takeaway joints lining Park Road, arriving early to snag a seat and munch down on some Thai was a good choice.

A quick rinse of our glasses and we moved on to the Red Rackham, named after the first movie Stu took his son to go see, which was a fruity Belgian style. You’ll notice a theme of pop culture reference to many of the brew’s names. This was a limited release, and more or less only exists because the wrong yeast was added to an already established beer they were trying to brew, however in the end they got this. Muah, it’s good. Stu tells us New Zealander brewers are more experimental then Australians. As he said this statement, I looked around the crowded bar as I was curious if anyone had taken offense.

Stu from Yeastie Boys telling us what we need to know

In between nibbles of goat cheese, oh my gosh, I question people who don’t know the value in a delicious goat cheese; we transitioned to His Majesty 2011. Served out of a magnum bottle, only one batch of both His and Her Majesty are brewed a year, and His is a more traditional, English IPA, more mild then the American style IPAs that tend to lean heavily on the hops.

It’s about time to get serious. And I mean serious. Up until this very moment, even the boys at The Scratch didn’t know what the mysterious beer in the hand pump was. It was about to be revealed, and I was a bit apprehensive. Whew, thank god the fresh Brie made its way around because holy tomato! All of 50 patrons, which is 10 people less than capacity mind you, however fit into the bar quite comfortably, lined up at the tap to get their taste of Rex Attitude. Even at first pour the smell, whew, the smell, made its way around the bar. To quote dear friend Jacqui, “if a hospital tasted like beer, it would taste like this”.

Aged for 12 months in a chardonnay barrel, the beer itself was only 7% alcohol however is made from 100% pure peated malts. It’s definitely an acquired taste. Interestingly enough though, the final beer of the night was the Imperial Rex; still had the potent, medicinal touch however was more drinkable, at least to me. It was obvious that the two were so intense, yet different enough from each other, that typically one will have a clear preference of one over the other. I think my nostrils still have that stench lingering on them.

The Outcome

So that was it, another great evening at The Scratch and a successful event that has inspired more like it to come. For those that could actually swallow down the Rex Attitude they were encouraged to drink the keg dry, awesome for them. I just can’t wait to see what gets put on the hand pump next. It took longer then I would have liked, but am damn happy to have found a place to call my local.

Say It Ain’t So


The existence of tomato sauce flavored chips is about as foreign to me as tomato sauce flavored chips. Gross! Apparently lots of things come in tomato sauce, aka ketchup, flavor.

I just found this new delicious restaurant slash craft beer bar not too far from my apartment called Bitter Suite. Beers are awesome, and expensive, and awesome. Yum Sunshine Coast Brewery Porter! Also, the food ain’t too shabby. Pork belly with succulent crackle, mmm whah (like a smack on the tip of your fingers). I just returned from there. Love that the owner recognized me and my love for Porter’s from a few weeks back. Yeah girlfriend.

I fly to New York in less than one week from today. I was hoping my killer tan would impress everyone, I’m not sure if it’s so killer anymore. I was told to not forget my roots when inquiring about how freezing the temperature actually is. Damn’it, its freezing! Back to the beach. Not sure if I can squeeze a last minute sesh in, however would like to point out that the last two occasions I was at the beach, my bathing suit bottoms, known in Aussie slang as togs, were on inside out. Twice! Yes, twice I’ve been lazily tanning and minding my tanning business to have someone point out, “Oh hey dude, you know your bottoms are on inside out!” Uh…twice, really?!?!

There is a rule many folk may be familiar with which states “no shirt, no shoes, no service”. I would like to tell you that that rule does not apparently apply in Australia. No shirt, no problem. Boys don’t wear shirts, a lot. Actually, if they do, it’s probably a singlet, which is what they call a tank top. Which I hear only Californian surfer boys wear, and FYI no one on the US East coast would ever be caught dead in. There is also a tendency to not wear shoes. Like a lot, again. Most often I see this in grocery stores. Service is all of a different standard, so no problem.

I’m back in time a bit, but as the much anticipated Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part I was released, I was pleasantly entertained at the Blue Room Cinebar in Rosalie, a cute suburb crawling with eateries of all cuisine and alfresco seating, displaying much cuteness in every direction (apparently I’m not one with words this evening). Anyways, Blue Room, tickets cost an appreciated $11 in advance, they have a swinging bar to socialize in before the show, and you order bevies and food prior to taking your assigned seat in the small 50 person theatre and they feed you as you watch the movie. Another wine? Press the button and it magically appears while I stare into Edward Cullen’s dreamy eyes and imagine running my hands through his bouffant.

In the US there is this fabulous reality TV show called Beauty and the Geek where they pair “beauties” of super hot chicks who aren’t meant to be fairly intellectually challenged with even the basics of life, with a “geek” who has most likely never a kissed a girl and is unaware of pop culture phenomenon’s. Heaven must love TV series creators! They were smart enough to run Season 2 of Beauty and the Geek Australia, thank G, and although it has expired I had intentions of blogging about its addictive nature months ago, as the Geeks got sweet makeovers and all the sudden turned hot. Just saying, download that for some amusing entertainment, hello Gilly!

Spike, the damn lizard who has lots of relatives that sprawl all over Brisbane, is technically a Goanna. Just thought everyone should know.

While working in Hoboken, New Jersey from 2007 to 2011 my local bar was called The Dubliner. It was an Irish pub that served awesome cole slaw till the management changed and annoyingly took the cole slaw off the menu. I would just say to Ben, the bartender, side of slaw and Yeungling please! And could sit there for hours. Things changed over the years, but that was the gist of it.

The “pub” next to my work now is called The Coro. There is no weekly Thursday HH (happy hour) like there was in Hoboken, but on the occasion that we do go there all bottled beers are only $5, even deliciousness like Leffe. The toilets are see-through until you press the lock, then it goes cloudy so people can’t see you doing your business. These are the vast differences of the Dubliner verses the Coro. I still secretly favor the Dubliner in the old days, where you could sit there with a pint of Guinness by yourself and listen to the Fratellis. Luckily a new boutique beer bar called Scratch just opened in the Milton neighborhood that may soon to be the Coro replacement.

I’m going to quote my friend Anthony who said at the Coro “I’m pretty sure Australia created the plastic currency that’s now used around the world, except in America because your money is made from paper.” Have a think about that.

Hey! Mr. Tamborine Man


Apparently snakes don’t give warning before they attack! I know, weird right? I’ll make it clear up front that I have not been bitten by a snake however, I have been intrigued after having a discussion on the top of Mount Tamborine, whilst  overlooking the valley, of people who have been bitten on the ankle by a snake, and only realize such after returning home from their walk. I would assume there would have been some fair warning. Apparently because of all the flooding last year the snakes are coming out to play!

Cheers! We're on our way

Mt. Tamborine is a boutique wine region on an eight kilometer ridge of a mountain chain along the Gold Coast. Since my friend Nidya was celebrating a birthday we rented a limo and headed to the southern hinterlands – up the mountain for some schnapps, wine, beer and cheese tasting to celebrate! I relived what felt like prom, posing for photos out front of the limo before our friendly driver Brian ushered us on our way.

Mt. Tamborine Distillery, so cute!

First stop was Mt. Tamborine Distillery. A cute little property tucked back behind black iron gates, the distillery sits amongst gingerbread house style buildings with large black and white spades plastered over the exterior. Vintage gardening tools rest against oak barrels as the fountain trickles calmly in the background. We were greeted instantaneously by the colorful owner Michael and his wife with a rendition of happy birthday played on accordion.

Michael from Mt. Tamborine Distillery wrapping some lemoncello

Michael looks a bit like Father Christmas only in his Hawaiian style shirt it all seemed out of place. The eclectic charm of the distillery was a good choice for this first stop as the variety of schnapps in hand painted colorful glass, from wattle toffee to Turkish delight to musk and lemocello (a favorite amongst the group), had given everyone a head start with their buzz so early in the morning. I’m thinking that the champagne we had up the mountain didn’t help either.

I’d recommend a stop here for anyone traveling in the region – polite, unconventional, and fun. The handmade eastern European knickknacks around the shop were enjoyable to browse through and we all left with a little something – whether it is a bottle of schnapps or hand-woven wool hats. But before we got too comfortable it was time to move on.

The vineyard at Witches Falls

Witches Falls Winery is one of the most favored in the region. In addition to light and fruity syrahs and sauvignon blancs with hints of capsicum (pepper) and oak they also specialize in batches of wild fermented yeast varieties. A big risk for wine makers because the outcome is so unpredictable however the viognier was one that I couldn’t refuse to take back with me.

Gallery Walk

Back in town is what is known as Gallery Walk. It’s the closest thing to “downtown” as it gets up in this mountain community, with a strip of art galleries, fudge shops, local craft merchants and handmade goodies all around. Tucked at the top of the street sits Mount Tamborine Brewery. With the small craft brewery on site, this cute stop off is a great place to get lunch, use the toilet (as many of the wineries don’t allow customers to use the restrooms unless there is a restaurant on site – weird!), and sample some of their delicious brews. $10 gets a sampler of 4 beers that the knowledgeable staff helps mix and match based on your preferences for taste. I chose the darker variety which had an awesome Belgian dubbel, black forest German dark beer, a mild lager and strong wheat. Also here is the cheese factory where they make delicious cheese on the premises and may have judged us a little bit for wanting a taste of nearly everything! I have a garlic goat cheese waiting for me to dip into that I’m having hard time not gobbling down instantaneously.

Flight of beers at Mt. Tamborine Brewery

Cheeeeeese Factory

All the champagne, schnapps, wine and beer started getting to our heads so we traveled farther down Gallery Walk to the Mt. Tamborine Winery to
have lunch on large picnic tables outside. The food was a bit disappointing as was the fact there was no actual vineyard. We nibbled on small baguettes, salads and lamb shanks. I find it interesting that lamb shanks in N. America can be quite expensive and only served at certain restaurants where it is a dish that I’m told many Australians have grown up with and I’ve spotted it on menus quite frequently. So, because we were running a bit tight on time we opted to skip the tasting and find a view so we could enjoy the scrumptious looking rocky road cupcakes made by Sharni.

The top of the world at Mt. Tamborine

Brian drove us to a lookout point on the side of the mountain where hang gliders often leap from. As the wind blew my hat off of my head and we watched it tumble down the mountain Jacqui caught it in time just before it leaped over the same edge the hang gliders often do. I asked her not to risk if for a $9.99 hat but luckily she was fast! So there we sat, quietly and calmly eating our cupcakes while taking in the breathtaking view and winding down from a very long day which unpredictably was going to be a lot longer. This is where we talked about the damn snakes that don’t give warning.  I also asked Brian if this was a popular make out point however I don’t think he heard me because I never got a response.

We turned into the side streets of Paddington, back in Brisbane, bladders nearly busting and contemplated where to take the night. Naps before dinner or shine right through. I think the answer is obvious.

Vietamese at Kim Lan post winery tour

Those with other evening obligations traded spots with some of the guys since they didn’t join on the wine tour and there was no better spot to dine then KimLan in Chinatown. I watched Nidya eat a fried Quail whole – literally, whiling singing the tune “bones bones bones bones bones” as I couldn’t believe it is okay to eat friend bird bones, spine and all. But, I’ll let you judge her for that.  Happy Birthday Nidya!

Happy Birthday Nidya!

It’s okay; I’m not a professional.


One would say a professional blogger may comment on such things about 99% of the population and what it truly means to share the wealth, or perhaps the probability of it snowing in New York unexpectedly this past Halloween, or the odds of having floods again in Queensland this summer. The interesting thing is, I’m not a professional blogger. Yup, a massive surprise to us all.

In no way do I have intentions to undermine any of the above controversial global issues nor contribute an educated opinion without supporting the facts (which I’m aware doesn’t require professional blogging skills) but I’m just here this time around to talk about a few simple things in life: Byron Bay and the hippies, Surfers Paradise and the tanned guerillas, and the quality of the XXXX brewery tour to outshine any of its beer worthiness. I would assume a best practice in blogging may be to assume one subject area and objectively present your opinion. I like to combine all subjects that I experience over a week or two period of time and overwhelm my readership with an explosion of thoughts.

Byron Bay Street Art

About a 2 hour drive south of Brisbane, crossing over the Queensland border into the state of New South Wales, sits Byron Bay. It’s known for its laid back atmosphere, a carefree paradise where hippies sit around bonfires in the evening strumming their guitars amongst the plethora of backpackers that flock to this coastal town. There are strips of local beach shops mixed amongst high street retailers, stalls selling fish tacos and wheatgrass shakes mixed in between a thriving nightlife.

Jacqui rocking back from the beach

A weekend getaway found me approaching this beach town passing the surf shops and tanned and toned surfers walking the highway with board in tow giving me a sense of the Australia that foreigner’s picture in their heads. The relaxed, artsy hostels packed with locals and travelers alike make this a prime stop off for most backpackers traveling along the east coast. We were just here however to celebrate a birthday.

Cheeky Monkeys

After late night shenanigans at notorious, trashy and divey Cheeky Monkey’s we spent the following morning letting the rays soak up our hangovers before heading to the Cape Byron Lighthouse that marks the most easterly point in Australia. Also noted that whilst tanning on the beach the lifeguards simply put up a sign near the rocks that hug the walking path (aka sidewalk), bathrooms, and road with “Snake in the grass. Please leave alone.” Let’s hope that was a friendly, cuddling sort of snake, not one of the world’s deadliest that live in these parts.

Snakes in the grass!

Most easternly point of Australia

So that brings me to the following weekend, pre-Halloween weekend. A bit depressing that this would have marked the 6th year of Emily and Lisa’s Halloween extravaganza where we rent a bar in Manhattan, give away $$$ worth of prizes and provide our friends with a place to get down and scary. Alas, I hopped on a train, down the coast again, for my first trip to Surfer’s Paradise.
Surfer’s is a place that many a traveler to Australia puts on their agenda. But reality check! Surfer’s is a touristy, high-rise filled Gold Coast destination, complete with tanned guerilla men, meter maid fairies in Leia-like bikinis and clubs pumping with mega techno beats. Think Jersey Shore people. And not the Jersey Shore I grew up with as my home away from home.

Oh, Surfer's Paradise

Halloween of oh-eleven came about a bit like this…I was way “over” my Oktoberfest costume that showed up the Monday after the event, that I refused to wear it and instead am hoping to score some bucks on eBay and therefore roamed the streets of Brisbane searching for a fun, scary, and cute Halloween costume. Guess what though? There are no Halloween costumes in ALL of Brisbane! Target, Kmart, Big W, chemist shops, malls…NOTHING! My best bet would be hiring (aka renting) a costume for about $70 bucks a pop at a costume store which was not an option so I got some office supplies, made some leopard (note Leopard, not cat) ears and ended up with some girlie affair of a costume. *By stating “I”made what I meant is asked some creative colleague types to make on my behalf.

I'm a freaking Leopard okay, not a CAT!

We went Surf Club hopping – from Broad Beach (less trashy, more classy) North to Surfers stopping off at the Surf Clubs for some brews. Surf Clubs perhaps could be comparable to US golf club houses, but not quite the class – you pay a fee to access food, bar and premium real estate. Very good fun.

Surf Club Hopping

And so I have to give a proper shout out to one of my best besties Emily who prior to me arriving in Brissy gave me the sweet present of a gift voucher to the XXXX brewery. XXXX is a Queensland icon. A crisp, unflavorful beer drunk by the Queenslandish Queenslanders in a way that Nascar drivers drink Coors Lite. Get it, right? But from beer appreciator to beer appreciator I couldn’t have asked for a more inspiring gift.

It took months to recruit some local friends to join me on this beer journey; many of them grew up in Brisbane and have worked for years at Wiley, where the lights of the brewery shine up from the view from our office cubicles, however mission accomplished. The $38 dollars to fork over was hard to justify but my dear mates Nidya and Anna were in and on we marched up the hill to the brewery on a warm Spring Wednesday evening.

Impressive! I recommend to any friend or family member who will pay $2000 to fly over to hang with me! Funny, old school adverts showcasing authentic Aussie males sipping their XXXX in the bush being men of men with strong backwoods accents; bring in a hopping kangaroo and they couldn’t have been more picturesque Australian. With corny tour operator leading the pack, this journey took us through the history of this beer to the bottling process where we watched factory workers attempting to stop bottles from slamming into each other before breaking on the factory floor. Hilarious for us spectators.

I learned things such as the Aussie term “sculling” aka chugging, is derived from the Vikings who would decapitate their enemy then drink beer out of their skull, as well as the urban myth of authentic Aussie spread Vegemite being derived from leftover beer yeast. When on the factory floor I dared Anna to ask about how many workers have had their arm sliced off in the machinery; I don’t believe our guide when she said no one recently.

At the end of the tour we got 4 beers – pronounced “be-ya’s” which weren’t small, in addition to a bbq feast. We envisioned some sausages and light salad but what we got were full course meals of sausage, ribs, salad, cous cous, potato salad, and a roll. Big hit! Plus, becoming bff’s with tour guides Jessica and Paul, who let us pour our own beers behind the bar, and took photos with us. We walked away after taking off our bright orange safety vests and protection goggles with a souvenir of a XXXX lanyard and memories to last a lifetime. They gave us no choice as they were professional talkers. Or whatever.

Behind the bar at XXXX

They also brew things like the delicous James Squire imprint which tainted me with their dark, delicious Porter. Mmmm yummy stouts!

My final thoughts of random include a few things:
Spaghetti. I grew up calling spaghetti, spaghetti. Not spaghetti and meatballs, regardless if that’s what it contained, just spaghetti. In the UK, as well as here in Australia, you would specify more so as spaghetti Bolognese. Or as the Aussies do, just call it Spag Bole.

Secondly, summer storms. It’s still not summer, but already the storms are coming. The hard, fast rain pounding on the pavement, the lightening lighting up the sky, my face under the pillow, it’s all a taste of what’s to come. I’m scared.

And lastly, toilets. Many restaurants don’t have their own restroom. It’s typically some sort of public toilet shared by multiple restaurants down some weird alleyway or whatever. I don’t like it. But that’s how it is, public toilets even for private businesses. Fine.