I know this is a wine blog, so I apologise for getting slightly off topic for a while but it’s the wines fault this all happened.
What happened you ask? KARAOKE, I am used to private rooms where I am only embarrassing myself in front of friends that I know and love and that will forgive me for how terrible I am oh and of course anyone passing by the underground venue I have been known to frequent and possibly the next few blocks.
So what on earth possessed me to get up in front of a pub full of strangers and do the same, it’s the wine I tell you. I love it, I really do. Sometimes I forget that I drink it because it is so fabulous and I forget to savour and enjoy all of its complexities and sitting in the hot sun on a Saturday I just ENJOY it.
It started at POLO, which attending had nothing to do with having just watched Pretty Woman the other day, it was more to do with the sign that I saw on the way from Maitland to Patterson. The sign that said there would be POLO on Saturday and Sunday of the coming weekend. I didn’t frock up, I would have liked too but alas my travel wardrobe it limited to mostly jeans and stretched old t shirts. However I was not too out of place and with a glass of sparkling in my hand and a dog at my heels I couldn’t have felt more at home even with a fascinator. Not that I expect you get too many fascinators at POLO I believe it more tiara territory.
My first POLO match in my entire life, it is exciting, fast, loud and painful to watch and the ground vibrates under your feet all at the same time. But enough about POLO let’s talk about the beverage choices, why is it that at any event like this the choices are those that are so limited. One sparkling, one red, one white, usually one brand, usually a brand that most people who like their wine avoid. Are all people attending the same event meant to have the same taste buds? Anyway I suffered through the sparkling (a number of times) and left during the last match for the day, this was the first match we had seen a few players start falling of their horses, humph and they were meant to be the A grade team.
Then home for some more sparkling little did I know it should have been called dutch courage not sparkling. That’s when we made our way to the local pub for a much needed bite to eat and the dreaded karaoke.
Luckily country towns have a habit of closing their pubs early, this was a god send. But alas the next day was open mic day at the other town pub. Don’t worry we didn’t abuse the towns hospitality at this pub or their ear drums we sat back and watched this time. There was some great entertainment and some well not so great, but after Saturday I have no right to critic others performances.
The pub, sadly, did run out of sparkling – note to self, if spending more than a week in any one town with only one pub or even two, call ahead and make sure they get a crate delivered before I arrive!
All in all we had a fabulous weekend in the town of Paterson and the neighboring Dungog even though there were no vineyards for us to visit.