Susanne joined the Nelson Bays Harmony Chorus a few years ago and has really fallen in love with singing in a chorus. NBHC is a women’s barbershop chorus. For those not in the know:

“Barbershop is a style of arranging in close, four part, a cappella harmony; it is not an era, style of music, or genre. The melody is usually in the second voice with harmony above and below. The arranger harmonizes every melody note with few passing tones or doubles, and creates more harmonic movement by adding secondary dominant chord progressions. The baritone part functions in a unique way, filling in the missing note of each chord.” — from Barbershop Harmony Society

Anyway, she was off in Palmerston North at their annual New Zealand-wide competition. There are some amazing choruses in New Zealand, so the competition is very stiff. They did great and ended up finishing 3rd overall. Pretty impressive.

As a side note, Palmerston North is the butt of many jokes in New Zealand. It has the reputation of being staggeringly uninteresting. So uninteresting, in fact, that the Spanish women’s soccer team, which was based there during the World Cup, abandoned the place because it was so boring. I shit you not.

We wanted a bit of an adventure/celebration at the end of her competition, so we decided to go to Martinborough for some wine tasting and general fun. I flew up to Welly to meet her.

Martinborough is the undisputed Pinot Noir capital of New Zealand and produces the best wines in the entire country. Well, probably not undisputed as some people think Central Otago pinots are the champ, but they don’t know what they are talking about. Trust me. Martinborough all the way.

We visited the area 4 years ago and really enjoyed it. The town is small and has a cool old hotel (circa 1882) called the Martinborough Hotel. The hotel is located on the town square, which makes up the vast majority of the town. John Martin, founded the town and, being a good Brit, laid out the streets in the shape of the Union Jack flag.

We checked in around 4:30 pm and decided we would keep it simple and eat at the hotel. We had dinner there the last time we visited, and it was quite good. It was off-season, so it was pretty quiet around town. I ordered a chicken dish, and Susanne ordered the salmon; the waiter assured her the chef’s preference was medium. When I saw Susanne cut into the salmon, it looked pretty underdone. She ate the ends, but then asked if I would switch dishes. Sure, no problem.

I cut into the middle of the salmon, and it was completely raw. I touched it with my finger, and it was as cold as the refrigerator. Ugh. In New Zealand, you rarely complain about food in a restaurant. Kiwis are, for the most part, adamantly non-confrontational about this stuff. And it definitely isn’t culturally acceptable to make a scene. However, this was not a cheap dish, and it was so far off the mark that I felt obligated to ask for a new order.

The young waiter took it back to the kitchen, and we waited. After a bit, he came back out and told us that we could have another order, but since we had eaten some of the fish we would have to pay for half. I blew a fuse. My inner zen-self had no chance and simply cowered in a corner while the “I can’t believe you said that” self fumed.

I told him, “there isn’t a chance that I am paying for half of a poorly cooked meal.” “I just work here” was his response, and he ran back to get the manager. The manager was, to put it mildly, a complete jerk about the whole thing. Finally, we just didn’t want to deal with it anymore, so we said to take the salmon off the bill; we didn’t want anything else. It was truly unbelievable.

We decided to head out and find a different place to have a drink and a little dessert. Sheesh. We were still both fuming about it. The dude ruined what should have been a nice, relaxing meal. As we crossed the street, the lady who owned the bar was taking a break outside and started chatting us up, so we went in to have a drink and a dessert. She was way ‘mo nicer than the dude in the restaurant.

As we were sitting there, this incredibly cute and friendly border collie came over to our table. He could spot suckers from a kilometer away. We doted on him and gave him lots of pets. His owner and friends were sitting on a couch by the fireplace. We ended up chatting with them.They were empty nesters who had moved from Kapiti Coast to Martinborough. The dog’s name was Ted. We loved Ted. Ted was amazing. We told Ted’s owner that if he ever needed to relinquish him, we were there for him. He said “get in line.” 🙂

It was great seeing a dog at the bar. It should always be allowed for well-behaved dogs. Anyway, Ted saved the night. Who needs a crabby restaurant manager when you have Ted to dote on? Sadly, we forgot to take a picture of Ted.

Love Me a Good Pinot

We had signed up for a half-day wine tasting tour the next day. Driving and doing wine tasting is just not advisable and it really takes the fun out of it; having someone who knows the area chauffeur you around is definitely the way to go.

The tour wasn’t until 12:30 pm, so we had a leisurely morning. We went and got coffee at Kitchner’s Cafe. It was a hopping joint—clearly a locals’ favorite. The woman taking our order at the counter had a level of enthusiasm for her job that was admirable. For that matter, everyone working at the place had huge smiles on their faces. I am thinking the owner of this cafe treats their employees just slightly better than Jeff Bezos does.

Susanne’s hip was bothering her, so I just wandered around town with my camera looking for some things to photograph. It is not a big place. It takes all of 15 minutes to walk the entire Union Jack flag.

We had some lunch at Nara. The food was really good. Highly recommended if you find yourself in Martinborough. Our guide, Trinity, picked us up at 12:30 in the van, and we headed out. We learned about John Martin. During the gold rush in New Zealand in the 1850’s, he made his money, not mining, but rather by selling stuff to all the people who thought they were going to strike it rich. They did not; he did. Turns out selling shovels is more lucrative than mining for gold.

The wine production in Martinborough is very small. Most of the wineries are small family-run affairs. Even in Nelson, it is very hard to find wines from Martinborough. I like this aspect of the area, plus, as mentioned before, they have the best wines in all of New Zealand.

Our first stop was Margrain winery. They had some nice wines, but nothing that blew me away. They make a huge number of different varietal wines, which usually means that none of them are outstanding. The cellar door had all sorts of obnoxious signs up (they were supposed to be funny, but most were meh):

• “No public displays of affection, $5 per display; this is a fine not an offer”
• “No politics, $10 fine per mention”

You get the drift. The lady pouring wine was kind of a sourpuss, to be honest. Maybe she was tired of people commenting on the stupid signs. Off to the next stop.

Next up was Schubert Wines. It was started by a German couple, Kai Schubert and Marion Deimling in 1998. The dude that was serving the wine was quite a yakker. A real yakker. He was super fun. He asked us where we were from (always a hard question) and told us he had spent time in the States in a place he was sure we would not know. He was wrong. It was Midland, Texas. I informed him that I had been there many times. He was shocked. Why, I am not sure, but he was. He ran an illegal ice cream truck back in the ’80s as a young man trying to travel the world and make a buck. I even launched my Midland joke at him:

Me: What is the only good thing about Midland?
Him: Hmmm, I don't know
Me:  It's not Odessa
Him: HAHAHAHAHAHA, so true

Ok, so maybe I don’t have a career in comedy, but he thought it was funny. I guess you have to have been there to really get that joke. It’s a good thing I didn’t roll out the West Texas Readin’ Test or the Texas A&M jokes on him.

Anyhow, the wines were really good. Their Pinots were outstanding as well as their Chardonnay. They had a wine called Tribianco that was quite interesting. As the name implies, if you know a bit of Italian, it’s made of three varietals: Müller-Thurgau, Chardonnay & Pinot Gris. Müller-Thurgau is a German varietal. We learned that in the early days of New Zealand wine, almost everyone planted Müller-Thurgau—a white hybrid grape created in Germany, because it was hardy, produced high yields, and ripened easily. Almost all of it had been uprooted and replaced with what are now considered more premium grapes, like Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Noir. The Tribianco was from these Müller-Thurgau grapes, but grown for lower yields to concentrate flavors.

Compared to our first stop, this was great fun, and we would probably still be there if Trinity hadn’t moved us along because we were already running late.

Our next stop was at “The Runholder” winery. Evidently, it is owned by Bill Foley, who started a winery in Santa Ynez Valley in California. Another amazing Pinot area. It was a very new and modern operation with two different brands: Te Kairanga (TK) and Martinborough Vineyards. They also were making gin, but we did not taste that.

The wines were really good. They had a Sauvignon Blanc that was one of the best I have ever tasted, and their Pinots were outstanding.

Our final stop, probably much to Trinity’s relief, was at Palliser Estates. I will confess that we were both getting a tad tipsy at this point, so our taste buds probably weren’t operating at peak capacity, but it didn’t matter, we were having a great time. We learned a lot about Trinity. She had grown up on a farm near Cape Palliser and ended up traveling and living all over the world—Spain, Africa, France, to name a few. She was lovely to hang out with and was making the day really pleasant.

The dude from Palliser said we should try the Pinot Gris. We said … “Meh.” Trinity told us it was probably the best Pinot Gris in the area, and we should give it a go. We did and, for a pinot gris, it wasn’t bad. But, meh. She then confessed that she agreed with us on the Pinot Gris … it was a boring, uninteresting varietal. Just say No to Pee No Gris.

Trinity drove us back to the hotel and we thanked her profusely. It had been great fun.

One thing is for sure: we were not going to eat dinner at the hotel again. We thought we would keep it simple and go the Asian place on the square, but it looked sterile and uninviting. We pivoted and headed down to Tonic Bar & Bistro.

The dining room had a great atmosphere, and from what we could see, the food looked fantastic. The waiter informed us that they only had a half order of corn fritters left. We decided to get the last half order and were glad we did. The food had a very Cajun/Southwest US feel to it. I said to Susanne, “I think he’s American.” She wasn’t sure. Then I wasn’t sure.

One funny thing about living here and hearing a lot of Kiwi and American accents is that your brain starts to perceive them as the same. Neither stands out, so they must be the same.

Dinner was lovely and it turned out he was indeed American. He and his partner had come from Utah in 2015, lived in Welly for a while, and then came to Martinborough and started the restaurant. We agreed that New Zealand is pretty special and marveled at our good fortune to be here, but lamented the woeful lack of hot peppers in the country—everyone had a good laugh over that one.

Whole Lotta Seals

We headed to Kitchner’s for coffee again. The super-friendly lady was there, and she gave me a huge smile and hello when I came to order. She started to ask me what I wanted and then caught herself and said, “Ah, nope, I know. Two Americanos!” I would be a regular at this place if we lived in Martinborough … just an amazing vibe.

On tap for the day was a drive out to Cape Palliser Lighthouse and seal colony. It was quite chilly and foggy when we headed out. MetServices claimed that the fog would burn off and we would have a sunny day. It did not feel that way driving through the pea soup.

Thankfully, MetServices got it right, and we got a stunning view as we drove along the narrow coastal road. At one rocky point, fur seals were lounging around all over the place. We stopped to take some pictures. The mamas kept a close eye on their cubs and me. Giving me a gruff bark if they didn’t like the look of things. Mostly they just watched me for a while and then went back to napping.

We continued along the narrow, gravel road for a few more kilometers to the car park for the lighthouse. There were seals everywhere. I believe there were more seals per square meter here than in Kaikōura … and that is saying something.

The Cape Palliser Lighthouse is located on the southernmost point of the North Island and, according to Marintime New Zealand:

Susanne was not up for the steep climb to the lighthouse, so I headed up on my own. I nearly tripped on a seal lying in the path. He barked at me with a certain incredulous tone that made me hustle along past him without taking a picture. “Sorry dude, didn’t mean to disturb your nap.”

The view from the top was awesome. You can see the South Island off in the distance across the Cook Strait.

We walked around on the beach near the lighthouse. There were literally hundreds of seals. Most of them were young pups, and a great commotion would happen every time you stuck your head around a rock and they saw you. “Ack! Strange beast coming! Run for your life!”

We headed back down the road to a small reserve and found a nice place for a little lunch and to enjoy the view of the ocean and the lighthouse. We, of course, had to share the spot with a pack of seals, but that was ok. They are cute, if not a bit stinky.

That night we had dinner at the best restaurant in Martinborough, Karahui. The food was amazing, and the service was great. We had a lovely pinot from Devotus. It, by all accounts, was a great day.

complaint lodged

We went back to Kitchner’s for coffee in the morning, and the staff was as enthusiastic as ever. I pretty much just had to say “hi,” and she was ringing up the order. I already felt like a local. We packed up, and I went to check out. The lady at the front desk asked me how everything was. I debated whether to mention the debacle at the restaurant. This is a small country, and usually you don’t openly complain about things — you just move on. It had been so egregious that I decided to say something. The hotel and restaurant are owned by different people, but she said the owner of the restaurant was there and she would go get him. Yikes!

He came out, and we had a nice conversation. I told him what had happened and how upsetting it was. He was thankful for the feedback. I will say, it felt much better than putting a crappy review out on google.

We drove back to Welly and had an uneventful trip back home. It was a fun few days, and it reaffirmed my belief that Martinborough has some world-class wines.