New Norcia > Busselton
There's nothing quite like a lengthy good night's sleep, and there was nothing that was going to tip Hughesy out of bed too early on a rather chilly morning. The prospect of a walk through chilly corridors to the shared bathroom facilities didn't exactly give me the ooh-ahs, but I deftly avoided the necessity through judicious under-indulgence the night before.
Once the showering and packing was complete, it was a case of a quick circuit through the dining room (we'd eaten in the bar the night before) for the continental breakfast, which was a return to the regularly defined article rather than the excesses on offer in downtown Perth.
Once we'd hit the bitumen it wasn't long before we were heading back into familiar territory from previous visits to the Swan Valley. That turned into a slight problem since familiarity with the ground suggested that we wanted to go one way, avoiding the city and the CBD if possible while Karen's directions seemed destined to take us through the heart of the downtown freeway.
Madam wasn't sure about all this, and had spotted what looked like a suitable route via the airport onto a feeder that would take intending visitors almost directly to Margaret River, but we missed the turn for that one, which provoked the odd moment of panic until Hughesy spotted an option that would deliver us onto the Kwinana Freeway, which was, according to my calculations, where we needed to be.
The map we had with us (the hire car company, having supplied us with Karen's assistance, had decided we didn't need a street guide) cut out south of Perth, and wasn't that detailed, anyway, and Karen's recent pronouncements didn't exactly fill you with confidence.
Madam was more than a tad spooked, but Hughesy, with the calm insouciance of someone who knows that Kwinana is south of Fremantle and Mandurah is south of Kwinana, reasoned that since we were on the way to Mandurah things were under control.
Madam wasn't convinced, but eventually the inevitable logic of the signage won out as Bunbury started turning up in the en route towards column. Madam was inclined to stop there for lunch, and eventually concluded we must be on the right road after all.
Karen, on the other hand, refused to believe we were travelling on a road at all, and issued frequent requests to perform a U-turn when possible, resulting in an eventual banishment to the glovebox. $5/day to hire the thing and the maps weren't up to date. Sheesh!
Once we'd found our way into Bunbury, a check at the Tourist Info yielded the location of the cafe quarter, and we ended up eating at the first such establishment we sighted. That might suggest a degree of desperation, but we'd taken a glance at the menu, decided it looked OK but we might look a bit further anyway, walked a hundred metres without sighting another option, so decided that was it.
A grilled chicken wrap and an almost identical-looking chicken caesar salad tortilla hit the spot nicely and it was well before two when we were back in the car, counting our way through a succession of six roundabouts before the turnoff that would lead to Capel Vale, the first destination on the tasting trail, and the only Halliday 5-star winery in the Geographe region.
It's a right hand turn off the highway, followed by an immediate right again, and once you're in the car park a walk to the back of the building takes you to a ramp leading upstairs to the restaurant and cellar door. It's not the largest tasting area you've seen, and with any more than two or three small parties you'd start getting in each other's way. There was a fairly boisterous lunch party finishing up when we arrived and an ex-employee and girlfriend in the tasting area.
With vineyards at Capel, Mount Barker, Pemberton and Margaret River covering eighteen grape varieties it's an interesting range.
I tried:
2009 Mount Barker Riesling (4.5/5 $26.95). Definite Riesling nose without the South Australian citrus and slate. I thought it was a nice variation on a favourite wine style. Classy. Possible order.
2009 Pemberton Semillon Sauvignon Blanc (4/5 $24.95). Tropical fruit notes that you expect from this style, and a good example of what's possible. Good alternative to the Savalanche. Could possibly order, but...
2009 Debut Verdelho (3.5/5 $17.95). Typical varietal nose and flavour profile. I've gone off Verdelho lately, and this one wasn't going to bring me back into the fold. Probably a 4 for fans of the variety). Not for mine, but Halliday liked it more than I did, rating it a 92!
2009 Pemberton Chardonnay (4.5/5 $24.95). Very taken with yet another new-style Oz Chard, and it's one worth watching for. Would be in the order if one goes in.
2009 Geographe Viognier (3.5/5 $26.95). Perfumed varietal nose and standard flavour profile. Slowly going off the variety, though fans would probably enjoy. Not for mine.
2008 Debut Shiraz Rose (4/5 $17.95). Slightly sweet at first, but with a long dry finish. Very pleasant summer chilled style. One to bear in mind, and could go half a dozen.
2005 West Australian Shiraz (3.5/5 $24.95). Peppery varietal nose. Easy drinking rounded style that I didn't mind but wouldn't be likely to order.
2007 Margaret River Cabernet Merlot (3/5 $24.95). Interesting nose but neither of us liked it on the palate..
2007 Geographe Sangiovese (4/5 $26.95). Interesting style with varietal character. I liked it and would possibly throw a bottle or two into an order.
2008 Geographe Petit Verdot (4.5/5 $26.95). Varietal nose and very impressive style. Ideal fireside red, so bought one for the fireside at the night's accommodation. Could easily go for more.
We escaped with a bottle of the Petit Verdot, which seemed to be the ticket with the promise of a wood fire in the caravan park chalet we'd booked for the night. Less than an hour later we'd made our way to Sandy Bay Holiday Park on the southern outskirts of Busselton, where the night's accommodation looked snug and could have been parlayed into a three-nighter at a very reasonable rate had we been so inclined.
That, however, would have involved a good half-hour commute to and from Margaret River each day, so we were quite happy to maintain the original plan, thank you very much, highly attractive though the rates on offer may have been.
The most significant information we picked up was, however, news of the presence of a food court in the suburban shopping centre about a hundred metres further along the highway, and after we'd taken our time settling in, it was fairly obvious that a walk along the beach would give us a chance to check it out on the way back.
We'd stopped in Busselton en route to Sandy Bay and had noted that the waters seemed remarkably calm, what with the presence of the Indian Ocean just out there. The walk along the beach gave time to reflect that the waters in the lee of Cape Naturaliste, certainly did bear a remarkable resemblance to a millpond. Then again, with the Cape west north west of Busselton, anything coming from Madagascar is guaranteed to run into land before it gets to where we were standing. Around the corner, between Capes Naturaliste and Leeuwin, you have Margaret River’s surf breaks, but around where we were standing the waters presented the millpond to end all millponds.
From the beach we made our way back towards the highway, passing large unit and resort developments and landing in the shopping centre's food court a little too early to be ordering dinner, and at the wrong time of the week if we wee looking for the pizza and steakhouse options, both of which are closed on Tuesdays. That left us with a choice of Asian (Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese), fish and chips or a place that labelled itself as halal and included Cajun squid among the offerings.
With that initial research carried out we returned to the chalet to consider the options and relax a bit before Madam headed beach-wards to catch the sunset shutter action while Hughesy relentlessly continued the attempt to catch up on the travelogue backlog. Once night had fallen, it was off to the Asian for a pad thai and a green beef curry, neither of which was really a match for the Petit Verdot, but the wine wasn't really meant to go with dinner in the first place.
With dinner demolished it was time to set the fire, a straightforward task thanks to a generous supply of kindling in the metal bin on the verandah, and by the time the wine had been given a good breather I was throwing a couple of big slabs of hardwood on the fire, luxuriating in the radiant warmth, sipping a hearty red and reflecting that there are worse ways to spend a chilly Tuesday night.
