Well, the first night. I hadn’t made my plans to attend the wedding until it was too late to book a room at the main hotel, where 90% of the guests were staying. I am happy with my choice, a tiny adjacent property on the beach. Well, I chose the cheaper room option that wasn’t quite on the beach; maybe it was 40 feet from the beach. Anyway, I decided to venture out on my own that night, which was not the safe proposition since I don’t typically feel comfortable venturing out on my own. By venturing out, I mean I merely chose to stay at my hotel and go to a wine-tasting that my hotel restaurant was having.
This was my first wine-tasting. I think we sampled five or six wines. Honestly, I don’t really care to know about the grapes or the soil. But I can pretend to be interested. The key take-away (oh, man, corporate meeting lingo…take-away? really, Dave?) was that Mexico has some good wine, but doesn’t export much of it to the States. I asked our wine expert why that’s the case, and I got some hazy answer dealing with trade rules. But my mind was a bit hazy by then, so maybe I just didn’t follow. What did we have? Some other kind of blanc besides sauvignon. Chenin blanc? A fumé blanc? I think there was one of each. La Cetto? That’s the winery that made these two. Then there were two or three others wines. It doesn’t matter. All I recall is that every wine I had was obviously better than the $10 bottles of whatever I am used to drinking. And what I remember most, mostly because I took a photo to remember it by, was the last wine, which was the best wine.
Monte Xanic Cabernet Sauvignon – Merlot 2008. Only 390 pesos according to this website. I paid considerably more to buy a bottle for the table of wedding guest folk I had dinner with after the wine-tasting. (Wine-tastings apparently increase my joviality and generosity.) No need to comment about these wines if you know anything about them. I won’t understand. But I’m buying this wine if I ever see it. There’s another wine from Tulum Night 3 that was also outstanding. That wine, I think I saw at Whole Foods. It’s an Argentine Malbec.
Ah, here’s the foursome who joined me at the wine-tasting. It’s “Claire” and “Nick” from London, and “Jan” and “Trevor” from Brisbane. I’ll use pseudonyms to protect their identities. Screw it. I’ll use their real names. That’s Claire and Nick and Jan and Trevor. (I didn’t say they were good pseudonyms.) And that’s me after some wine. Yeah, I shouldn’t post such pics on the internet. I don’y care. Wine and moon-face. Great. Motivation to look better at my next wine-tasting. Anyway, I spent most of the time talking to Claire, who despite a life of privilege and globetrotting, enjoyed coaching me on all the adventures I ought to go on. It helped that I mentioned having gotten a new kidney. There’s my one and only conversation-starter. So, according to Claire, I MUST go to Rome…and as long as I’m in Europe, I must go to London and Paris and Barcelona. And I must go to Buenos Aire. And Australia. And I hate to admit it, but when Claire and Nick asked if there was anything worthwhile to see in North Carolina, I felt compelled to say, “No, not really”. I mean, c’mon. I know, I’m terrible.
Actually, what’s terrible is that I pretty much have no pictures of any of my friends, the people I actually know. I’ve got one group shot, and it’s with THESE people. I could post some pics that others took that are up on The Facebook, but then I’d be engaging in bad web etiquette. If you know me on Facebook, I’m tagged. And it’s horrifying, because the pics confirm what I’ve known for a long time, that I have no neck.
It’s been awhile since I’ve been verbose, hasn’t it? Not just verbose, but writing without a net.
Oh, and what’s this? The wine guy starting talking about tequila, and he brought out “the best” tequila, or at least one of the best. It can’t be that luxurious, because I got some at the duty-free shop at the Cancun Airport. Anyway, we got a free sample of the Clase Azul. Buy the tequila, and you get the fancy bottle!
And what Tulum night would be complete without a coconut tree bathed in moonlight?