Australia: Port Douglas – Part 3 

By day four in Port Douglas, I was getting antsy for a change of scenery. I’m not much of a shopper and I don’t load up on purchases at the beginning of a trip, especially if it means buying more luggage, and we still had three weeks of travel ahead of us. And I’m definitely not much of a lounger—beach, poolside, or even at a sidewalk café. But on day four I found myself doing all four. I told myself it was a good way to refuel, but I wasn’t convinced.

We started the day with a beach stroll, followed by browsing the shops, and later a long walk on the wharf and through town, stopping at Payless Rental & Tours to inquire about a rental car for Sunday, before we browsed more shops.

We lunched at Cafe Ziva, people-watched for quite some time, and then returned to our hotel to lounge poolside for the afternoon. David read while I jotted notes for a future Darcy and Bullet thriller to be set Down Under and updated my travel log.

For dinner, we ate at Bucci. Besides loving duck as an entrée, I am also a big fish-eater, as I was spoiled by fresh seafood caught by my father, an avid fisherman. I ordered Mooloolah River swordfish char-grilled on lemon leaves and served with a fresh tomato and herb salsa, and David had the pan-seared Cone Bay barramundi with a chili-pickled beetroot salad with whipped feta, onion confit, and walnuts. For dessert, a snifter of grappa, guaranteeing we would sleep soundly that night.

Early Sunday morning we collected the keys to our rental vehicle from the shopkeeper next door to Payless Rental and found our Mitsubishi SUV parked on the street, just as the rental owner had instructed. There was no way, he had informed us when we filled out the paperwork, he would be working that early on a Sunday, but he was willing to make other arrangements to accommodate our wishes. We offered to pick up the car on Saturday, right after we signed the contract, but he said there was no reason to pay for an extra day, and besides he had no rentals available. He concluded our transaction with a smile and a question: “Why do Texans always carry guns?” I replied, “Well, we don’t always carry guns. We aren’t carrying them now.” I smiled and left David and the owner to their discussion of surf fishing and moseyed over to the adjacent shop, curious as to what models of ten-speed bicycles they were selling.

Shortly thereafter, we arrived back at our hotel to gather a few things for our day trip to Daintree National Park, the largest rainforest in Australia. We spent hours in this tropical wonderland, hiking and snapping photos as we visited Mossman Gorge and the Daintree Village, a laid-back rural town situated on a bend of the mighty Daintree River, where we spotted two crocodiles skimming the waters. Although we were warned, we didn’t see any cassowaries. Cassowaries are large flightless birds. They resemble emus and are shy, but when provoked can inflict serious, sometimes fatal injuries. The warning reminded me of a similar one about ostriches many years ago when I lived in Africa. If cornered, the frightened bird can deliver dangerous kicks capable of killing a lion. Rule: Don’t provoke the wildlife, any wildlife.

Back in Port Douglas, we dropped off the rental car and headed to our hotel for a short nap to reenergize before we walked across town to the docks to find our boat for a sunset sail around the harbor. On board, we sipped wine, nibbled appetizers, and watch the sun sink on the blue horizon.

Our conversation turned to the Daintree Rainforest, and what we might do if we revisited it. Maybe a guided fine feather tour? Australia has so many beautiful birds. Or a river cruise, getting up close and personal with the crocodiles. We had done something similar more than once in Florida, but saw no crocs, only alligators, and in a much smaller boat. Yikes! We also enjoyed the Mossman Gorge and the aerial walkway on our way up to the Canopy Tower. As suggested, we kept our eyes open, hoping to spot a cassowary, but only saw an amethystine python camouflaged in the foliage of an Australian fan palm that towered over McLean’s Creek.

For dinner that night, we decided on Thai food and ate at Siam by the Sea. Most of the reviews were four or five stars with a few twos and threes. Our seafood meals were delicious, and I loved the pineapple fried rice.


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Europe 2013: Day Two in Beaune

Day two in Beaune. I tucked a rain jacket and umbrella into my backpack and was ready to face the elements for our all-day excursion into the Burgundy wine region. We had hired a local guide for a private tour of some wineries, as well as to provide a deeper understanding of the oenology and the geology of the Burgundy region. Having lived in California for decades, we were both familiar with our local wine regions, so we weren’t new to viticulture or winemaking in general, and while Dave was well-versed on French wine production, I was not. And, I soon discovered, unlike at most wineries in California, you can’t simply stop in for a tasting and a purchase at any French winery you choose to visit.

Our guide met us at our hotel, and we sped away to downtown Beaune, just minutes away. As we walked through the narrow streets of this charming town, she gave us a brief history of Beaune and pointed out significant landmarks along the way. One sight that caught my attention was a model of the Beaune ramparts, which we planned to explore the next day.

We arrived at our guide’s office and settled in for an in-depth discussion on viticulture and vinification, and she was certainly a wealth of knowledge on both subjects. During the hour-long talk we tasted wines from various villages in the Côte de Beaune, which gave us a better grasp of just how important the terroir is to wine growing and how it affects a wine’s taste. The terroir is the symbiosis of grape, soil, climate, vineyard placement, and the human touch, all rolled into one.

“Now we will go on the ground,” said our guide. As an avid gardener, I hoped this meant what I thought it did, and I was right. We drove through the countryside, stopping at intervals to feel the soil in which the grapes grew, learning hands-on about viticulture and how geology impacts wine growing. A side note: 95 percent of all wine produced in the Burgundy region, from Dijon to Lyon, comes from two specific grape varieties: pinot noir and chardonnay.

From the Côte de Beaune region in the southern half of Burgundy, we retraced our route north to the Côte de Nuits. Ninety-five percent of the wine produced in this district is red, predominantly from the pinot noir grape. The most famous and most expensive come from the  grand cru vineyards of Vosne-Romanée and Chambolle-Musigny. The remaining 5 percent is white, but the white wine mecca of Burgundy is really the Côte de Beaune region.

Clos de Vougeot wineryOur first stop in the Côte de Nuits was the Clos de Vougeot, a wall-enclosed vineyard (clos) with a 125 acres under vine. It is the largest single vineyard in the Côte de Nuits that’s entitled to the grand cru designation; a wine of the most superior grade. The vineyard, like so many in the region, was created by the Cistercian monks. The land was either purchased or donated. In 1336 a wall was built around the vineyard, and in 1551 a château was added. During the French Revolution, all vineyard possessions were confiscated and sold to private buyers. In 1818 the château and vineyards were purchased by Julien-Jules Ouvrard and remained a monopole until his death. A monopole (monopoly in French) is an area controlled by a single winery and can be as small as a vineyard or as large as an entire appellation. An appellation is a legally defined and protected geographical indication used to identify where the grapes for a wine were grown. Also note that, unlike in most of the world’s vineyards, single ownership is rare in Burgundy.

After Ouvrard’s death, Clos de Vougeot passed to three heirs but continued to be operated as a single property until 1889, when the heirs sold and the vineyard was bought by six Burgundy wine merchants. This was the first time the land had been subdivided since the creation of the vineyard some seven hundred years earlier. Over the years, the holdings have been progressively subdivided by inheritance or sales, and as of the early 2000s Clos de Vougeot is now split among eighty-six owners. These producers either make cuvées under their own brands, sell their grapes to vintners, or both. And with its array of owners, Clos de Vougeot is arguably one of the most diverse sources of pinot noir in the world.

Next, our guide explained how much the soils can vary even within this 125-acre tract. The soils around the château are chalky and gravelly oolitic limestone and therefore have good drainage. Those in the middle part of the vineyard are soft limestone with clay and some gravel, resulting in moderate drainage. The bottom part of the vineyard is humus-rich alluvial clay and is flat, making for poor drainage.

What about appellation laws and regulations for the French wine industry? I won’t even attempt to go into this, only to say the industry is heavily regulated, and some of your best fine wines are produced here, allowing you to cellar them for years.

Later, when I commented on the size of Clos de Vougeot—large for the region—our guide said most grand cru sites are closer to thirty-five acres, with the average being eleven acres, so the clos is indeed a large grand cru vineyard. And after I checked prices for some of the wines produced in this region, approximately $200 to $3800 per bottle, I can see why Burgundy isn’t popping corks to draw tourists to daily wine tastings. You can, however, plan in advance and make an appointment to tour a specific winery, such as Maison Louis Latour or Louis Jadot.

As I walked through the grounds of the Château du Clos de Vougeot, I was amazed by the tall, sweeping roofs that almost touch the ground, and I marveled at the giant wine presses built by the Cîteaux monks.

My head was still buzzing with wine facts as we approached our last stop of the day—Gevrey-Chambertin, the largest wine-producing village in Burgundy’s Côte d’Or district. While our guide answered the few remaining questions Dave had on viticulture, I took in the scenery and soaked up some rays. The sun had finally appeared to warm the day.

Abbaye de la Bussiere receptionLate in the afternoon our guide dropped us at our hotel, and we immediately prepared for our drive from Beaune back to Dijon, about a fifty-minute trip, as we had dinner reservations at Abbaye de la Bussière. As we wound our way through the Ouche valley, the countryside picturesque and unspoiled, we were glad we had our GPS to guide us. We turned onto one, then another country crossroad and kept going until I was certain we were hopelessly lost, but we soon spotted the Burgundy Canal and knew we were on course. We followed the river, and before long there appeared before us a grand gateway. The drive curved past willow trees and a duck pond, and Shetland ponies grazed on the grass. We parked and were escorted into a main hall.

The front of the Abbaye de la BussiereAbbaye de la Bussière is a Cistercian monastery built in 1131 by Stephen Harding, an Englishman, of the Cistercian Order at Cîteaux. Following the French Revolution, the monks were expelled and the property sold at auction. It remained in private hands until it was returned to the Catholic church in 1921 to serve as a spiritual retreat. In decline and decay, the church decided to sell the abbey in 2005. Today it is owned by the Cummings family and is an exclusive boutique hotel set on fifteen acres of parkland with a lake and a botanical garden. The abbey is surrounded by historic vineyards, Gevrey-Chambertin being one of them. There are sixteen guest rooms, all lavishly decorated, and fine dining is in the main abbey building, a cathedral-like setting with honey-colored stonework, traceries, ornate staircases, and stained glass windows that cast soft turquoise light on the vaulted ceilings and walls.

Stained glass windows from the abbey, the original onesThe abbey’s main restaurant is in the former refectory. Seated at a table tucked into a corner, we settled in for a most memorable meal. For starters I ordered the escargot, served with a garlic-suffused green risotto topped with goat cheese foam. It came in a tapered parfait glass, the green risotto at the bottom topped with the goat cheese foam, and in the center of the topping the escargot. The presentation was as delicious to view as the dish was to eat. Dave ordered the crayfish and smoked eel with a candied quail egg on marmalade tomato and anchovy cream. For the main course, I had trout served with basmati rice, capers, golden raisins, and herbs. The whole grilled trout was expertly filleted at our table. Dave ordered free-range pork, morels, and roasted potatoes, with a light emulsion of green pepper and rosemary. For dessert, we selected our favorite cheeses from the cheese trolley and sipped an excellent French port.

As we drove away from the abbey, I wondered what the Cistercian monks would have thought of the monastery today, knowing no vestiges of their strict monastic orders of self-denial, seclusion, and silence remain today. But it was a fleeting thought, as it was obvious that the Cummings have gone to great effort to successfully restore the abbey to it glorious medieval self and are carrying on the Cistercians’ passion for surrounding themselves with peace and natural beauty, which kept the monks close to the earth of which God had made them stewards.



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EUROPE 2011: Dubrovnik to Split, Croatia

Dubrovnik F.Tudjman-BridgeEarly the next morning, I cranked in the pulley clothesline to retrieve our clean laundry, which had spent the night drying on the line that stretched from our apartment window to a stone wall on the opposite side of the alleyway. The fresh scent of lemon soap wafted toward me as I reeled in the garments, still flapping gently in a soft, morning breeze. Years ago, I had learned to pack hand-washable, quick-dry clothing, and such items certainly came in handy on long trips.

We packed, then went in search of a photo shop to print out our bus tickets, which were saved on our iPad, for the trip from Dubrovnik to Split. While we had made our travel plans, I asked Dave, “What about flying?” At the time, no flights existed between the two cities, which are approximately 150 miles apart. Train, perhaps? There was no train. Ferry? Great way to see the stunning Croatian islands if you have ten hours or more to spare. Car? This made no sense, as we planned to only travel one way, so it wasn’t worth the effort or expense to rent a vehicle. This left us with one alternative, and the most popular means of transportation for tourists and locals alike—the bus.

Onofrio's Big Fountain Dubrovnik Croatia After a few challenging moments at the photo shop, when the owner couldn’t figure out how to print our tickets, he called in his young son, who was working in the back of the store. I turned to Dave and smiled. He, too, had a smile on his face, as did the owner. In five minutes flat, the son printed our tickets and left without saying a word.

En route back to our apartment, we detoured for breakfast. While waiting for our order to arrive, I immersed myself in one of our guidebooks. I skipped from reading about sights in Split to a blurb about the large fountain, which we had just passed on our way out of the Pile Gate. This giant, round structure is Big Onofrio’s Fountain. In the Middle Ages, Dubrovnik had a complicated aqueduct system that brought water from the mountains seven miles away to the city. The water ended up at the town’s biggest fountain before continuing through the town. This abundant supply of water and large salt reserves from the town of Ston, as well as the massive Rupe Granary, made independent Dubrovnik very siege resistant. The precious salt pans contributed to Dubrovnik’s wealth, and are still being worked today.

Finished with breakfast, we collected our bags at the apartment and headed to the Pile Gate. Outside the gate, we caught a taxi to the main bus terminal. We had reserved seats on an express bus from Dubrovnik to Split with a travel time of four and a half hours, or thereabouts. However, after an hour’s wait at the station, we were informed that the nonstop bus had broken down and we would have to take one that made “a few stops.”

Taking this minor issue in stride, we boarded the bus, dug out our cameras, and settled in for the ride—and a long one it would be, for a number of reasons. But the minute I spotted the Franjo Tuđman Bridge, a cable-stayed bridge at the western approach to Dubrovnik, near the Port of Gruž, I was so absorbed in the scenery I forgot about the drive ahead . . . for the time being.

Split Bus Ride and Ston Wall Unfortunately, on a bus trip you can’t stop whenever you’d like for a photo op, the first being the bridge. And, shooting through glass can certainly diminish the quality of your pictures. We tried to open them, but the windows wouldn’t budge.

The next photography opportunity came as we closed in on the outskirts of Ston, a small city on the peninsula of Pelješac. The town has the longest stone wall in Europe, second in the world to the Great Wall of China. The stone wall has forty towers and five fortresses, and stretches from one end of the peninsula to the other. It protected salt production from potential thieves and protected the town from potential attackers. If I had known about its existence before planning the trip, it would have been a must-see for me. Besides salt production, Pelješac is also famous for wine production. Californians, and most Americans, are probably familiar with the name Grgich Hills Estates, a winery in the Napa Valley region of California. Born in Desne, Croatia, Mike Grgich emigrated to the US in 1958. In 1976 he won the Judgment of Paris wine tasting with his chardonnay. At the time, he was the winemaker for Chateau Montelena. Ston is also known for oyster farming. The shells farmed along this coast are of the highest quality in the world due to the exceptionally clear seawater and the ideal weather conditions.

Farming in the valley in Bosnia and Herzegovina We hugged the coastline until we reached the Neum corridor in Bosnia and
Herzegovina, where the border control boarded to check passports or identification papers. When we handed over our passports, the guard said, “Americans,” then handed them back without even opening them. However, the Australian couple across the aisle wasn’t as fortunate. They had packed their passports in their luggage. The guards made them get off the bus, haul out their bags, and produce their identification. It took a good twenty minutes before we were on our way, but not in the right direction, as we soon observed. I turned to Dave and asked in a low voice, “Where are we going?” The moment I uttered the words, our driver announced he had mail to drop off and passengers to pick up at a bus stop “near here.”

We were a bit skeptical about this unexpected stop, but what else could we do except ride along and hope to reach Split before the end of the day? As we veered inland, the scenery changed from lush green with coastal views to a rocky terrain of what appeared to be limestone.

An hour inland, we pulled alongside a store similar to a 7-Eleven. Next to the mini-mart was the bus station. During the thirty-minute stop, we bought snacks and visited the bathroom. Then we collected four passengers. I saw no street or town signs, so I have no idea where we were in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Split, Croatia yellow tollway boothsBack on the road, our driver motored along a series of small back streets for about forty minutes until he sped onto the A-1. With nothing much to see scenery-wise, we napped. When we woke, the bus was climbing along a rather steep rise. Below stretched a verdant valley with water ditches channeled into the rich, dark earth. As an avid gardener, I was drawn by the fertile farmland. I snapped a few pictures and checked the time. We had been riding for five and a half hours. Surely, Split had to be nearby.

Thirty minutes later, I spotted something bright yellow looming in the distance. I’ve never been so happy to see a tollbooth in my entire life. We passed through the yellow tollway, and soon the rocky terrain around us gave way to the vibrant blue of the Adriatic coastline. We had arrived in the seaport of Split.


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