O
n the way back, not
particularly sober any more,
I saw on my dashboard clock
16h58. I was right at the
gate of l’Avenir. Should I go
in? As fortune would have it, I did. And I
take it as a nod from her side, and perhaps
as a smile too. The friendly new manager
of the tasting room, Martinique, was just
locking up as I arrived. They’re rebuilding
and upgrading the tasting room, bottles
and boxes and displaced furniture filled
every corner. On the one counter, pushed
together and a little dusty, stood a small
army of ABSA Pinotage Top 10 awards.
They hardly missed a year, deservedly
so. A bottle was opened and we started
comparing the wine with another bottle,
more about later, which I had brought
with me. What strikes one is that such an
impressive wine and establishment can
be so unassuming. Every sip leaves one
with a sense of nothing out of place, yet
somehow escaping the trap of perfection.
It’s a wonderful wine, as pleasant as a
homecoming, as comforting as baked
dessert, as sophisticated as a Mont Blanc
pen, yet somehow remaining a simple
wine. Doubtless many pinotages are
taking this road today, The Rijks and the
Diemersdals and the Môresons and the
wines from around Tulbagh. Most of the
the ABSA Top 20 line-up, in fact. But I’m
glad that I chose this last stop at l’Avenir.
Nick Weerdenburg