Here's the fox that sits quietly on the beam at Paulett Wines in the Clare Valley, South Australia.
In case anyone missed me,
apart from these two:
I've been in the Clare Valley, South Australia, situated about 2 and 1/2 hours
from Adelaide for the last few days.
But, not quite swinging from the rafters,
like that fox in Paulett's tasting room.
We visited the region with C and S, our Adelaidites, to join the Skillogalee* set.
*In the early 1840's, pioneer John Horrocks settled and explored the area,
using Afghan camels and looking for land suitable for further use.
On one expedition, Horrocks' was beset by illness, injuries and bad weather.
Having run short of provisions, the party survived only by making a "skillogalee" or "skilly" - a celtic word for a sort of thin porridge or gruel, probably from grass seeds and water.
Luckily, skilly was not on the menu, and no injuries or camels were involved.
C and S took us wine-tasting.
Compared to Queensland's laid-back winter, it was quite cool.
The Clos Clare winery was lovely.
Like the south of France.
How seriously good is this story of grand serendipity?
About a month ago, my friend C, gave me a mid-length Valentino leather coat
she'd bought on ebay, it turned out to be a tad too big across the shoulders for her.
I fashioned the coat with a flea-market find velvet and silk pouch,
hands-free for frippery.
Wineries seem like a lot of work.
Not for the faint-hearted.
There's a lot of attention to detail.
Not for those who do half-a-job.
There's always a lot to be done, and you are up against the elements.
At the mercy.
Multi-tasking is de rigeour.
Fashionably speaking, S, didn't disappoint either,
we might have been in the middle of this:
Clos Clare's vineyards.
(And coincidentally here's S, looking for mint for our lamb dinner, tonight).
Or at Pikes' cellar door.
Including the drama of the Mitchell winery's trees.
We didn't let our sartorial senses down.
We stayed at this lovely place,
it had a back in the day vibe, but with all the mod cons.
Forgot to sign the Visitors' book.
Lit a lovely fire.
Some kind person had already chopped the wood for us. Luxury.
S generously self-catered for us, on night one of the tour, as the sign suggested.
She brought up home-grown harvest, some from her garden in Adelaide.
Kiplers, spinach and fresh, crispy brussel sprouts.
Seriously, even if brussel sprouts weren't your thing
you'd like these!
Organic, and just to prove it this fellow came along for the ride.
We tried a Nut Cake recommended by the Jesuits at Seven Hill,
and a few other items from their range.
Those Jesuits are busy, trotting out altar wines throughout the country, and wines for the retail market.
They also treat their pets well.
This cat probably gets 500 pats per day.
She's the tasting room's special guest at Seven Hill Winery.
The self-catering seemed to cause an outbreak of frippery.
Luckily for me, I might have forgotten my hair-brush (the Mason Pearson no less!),
but I had this for the next day.
The Clarins Beauty Balm.
We walked to lunch at Skillogalee's.
Thank you C and S, had a lovely time.