It was the second weekend in a row that we were planning our Saturday around the social life of an eleven year old, but this time we really did not mind that much. There is currently only one kind of party that interests themthem: Panitball. If it wasn’t for the age limit at most paintball courses, this craze would’ve hit them even earlier. Last week we were lucky enough to find a place open before 8am in the sleepy town of Melkbos. This weekend we found ourselves in the Stellenbosch wine lands.
En route to the paintball course I spotted Stark-Condé. I had never heard of the wine estate before but the name stuck a cord in a heart still heavy after the Red Wedding episode of Game of Thrones. A total stretch but I’m sure other GoT fans will get it. On our way back into town The Plus One indulged my mild fangirl tendencies by driving through the white gates.
Stark-Condé turned out to be the ideal place to kill time, especially with a child under the age of ten. Between the beautiful surroundings, a comfy spot in the sun and a delicious menu we did not switch on our tablets once. The eight year old was content with exploring everything in sight and getting more jam on his being than the croissant at their restaurant The Postcard Cafe. I had a substantial portion of fried prawn salad. Bliss! The Plus One was less happy with his lamb curry but only because there was no chutney. Curry without chutney is a sin.
The tasting room is on a cute island. To keep the freeloading Stellies students at bay a tasting of 6 wines goes for R30 per person. I hope every cent goes to a holiday fund for the lovely lady at the tasting room, maybe to an island with palm trees. It was not just a pretentious ramble about acidity and top notes (well not too much), she really knew the estate inside out. We cut the tasting short because we couldn’t have our dessert on the tasting island so we headed back up for apple crumble for the boys and chocolate pecan squares for me. Delicious!
Collecting the eleven year old took more effort than I had energy for after that major chill session. A sadistic sign claimed that the paintball place was just 800m away. It was uphill. It was a million kazillion km away. The Styrofoam cup of coke at the end of our trek felt like Olympic gold.