THE TOUR GUIDE'S TALE

Guiding visitors around the Cape winelands is generally a rewarding experience, says Gillie Stoltzman (who should know). The job does, however, have moments which are rather more trying....

Thinking back over my ten years of planning and guiding wine tours for journalists, winemakers, collectors, food buffs, holiday makers and those simply wanting a costly piss-up in safe hands, I feel a little like Pollyanna – everything is beautiful and I am in love with our winelands!

Most trips are a delight, but there have been a few sticky moments, of course. I remember once doing a U-turn, five minutes down the N1 towards Paarl, and depositing a rude client at his hotel, with his money back and some suggestions as to how he could better spend his day. I have been bored silly by a canoodling honeymoon couple whose physical interest in each other prevented any conversation.

The landscape is on my side, however. Tourists more aware of their surroundings than honeymoon couples may begin the day remarking on the similarity to California, Provence or Scotland, but all come to echo Hugh Johnson’s comment that nowhere in the world is wine made in more beautiful surroundings. Queries about property prices often accompany the gasps of delight. The houses, cellars and gardens we visit are lovely, too (with a few 1960s-South African-ugly exceptions, which I regard with nostalgia and affection), some reflecting history, some the quirks of their owners, and some just the confidence of lots of new money.

THE HOSTS

We wine tour-guides perform an important public relations function for the industry, I think. Occasionally, though, one wonders how much care producers take in choosing the person who offers wine tastings to visitors. I never know if I am going to get a ‘grab a price list and tell me what you’d like to taste’ (followed in this instance by an informed and pleasant experience), or a slow stroll to the counter with a ‘God, you are inconveniencing me’ look, or a timid soul who points to a bottle and says ‘this is our sauvignon blanc’..... From the other side of the counter might come defensive interruptions of our comments with information about the accolades ‘our wines’ have received, or details of alcohol content, acid measurements, vintage conditions, wood treatment, etc flung at us – before establishing whether or not we are stony ground for this eager sowing of facts.

I recently took some visitors to a well-known Constantia property. We were given a royal welcome and entrée to the inner sanctum. We were then taught how to hold the glass, to ‘nose’ and not ‘sniff’, and other such lessons. Fine, you might think – but this casual looking bunch in jeans and T-shirts was in fact a group of wine and food journalists from London – as our hosts had been briefed in advance. The journalists gave each other old-fashioned looks and everything about the good wine we tasted was somehow tainted by the inappropriate and condescending attitude. Lots of subsequent apologies from me in the car.

Bad experiences in tasting rooms are rare, however, and we are usually welcomed with knowledge and generosity – certainly by the winemakers and owners. One point, while on the subject: those little tulip glasses that are sometimes used for tastings do the opposite of enhancing the wine experience. There is also the sensitive area of the cost of tastings. I have been told that the fee is to discourage students from doing what all Cape students have done – that is, spend a day on a cellar crawl. But isn’t this an investment in a future market? Anyway - surely even a cling-wrapped person behind the counter can distinguish between a rambunctious bunch of fun lovers and a couple of visitors accompanied by a guide wearing the required medals?

THE VISITORS

Who will I meet today? This is the thought that really sustains us guides. Will it be the grump who mutters: ‘Which of your beasly wines will induce oblivion?’ (Thank you, Punch). Or the person carrying a briefcase of wine books, guides, maps and notepads? Or someone who asks: ‘Do they use gooseberry essence to get the flavour?’

Some visitors have no idea what degree of primitiveness they will find in South Africa.One Californian couple, fearing a shortage of the basic necessities of civilised life, brought along a whole pantryful - olive oil, giant cloves of garlic, vinegars of various flavours. They left the large box with me, rather sheepishly suggesting that I might find a home for it (as indeed I did). Another group arrived with a mini clinic: terrifying vials and syringes, bandages, pills, lotions and potions. We had a laugh, none were used and there is a clinic in Khayelitsha that is now a little better stocked.

Sometimes deeper – or at least trickier – relationships grow. It is generally wise to steer clear of certain issues, but some things must be tackled head on. There was a famous African-American actor who was here to find his roots, did not like the whiteness of my skin, and clearly held me responsible for all past wrongs. Finally, I suggested that he was a little too far south for his roots, though I understood why he would start looking for them here, because he could do so from a five-star hotel with first world infrastructure, fine food and wine, in a lovely climate and amid beautiful scenery. I pointed out that although the former first lady he so admired had been courageous, beautiful and a heroic leader, she was currently on trial for murder. We locked horns for a while. Then I remembered that the customer is always right, we embraced, and continued the debate over breakfast next day, with his beautiful Ethiopian girlfriend. I hope the discussion helped him to a broader understanding of South Africans.

My duties are wide. A rather brittle Frenchwoman who imported Champagne into the UK was here with her charming English husband, and we planned to chase bubbles around the Cape. In the middle of the tour the man had a bad toothache. I arranged a visit to my dentist and immediately became Daniel who had removed the thorn from the lion’s paw. I was the hero, South Africa the greatest nation on earth; we became firm friends and they now summer here each year.

Just sometimes it is simply hard work. An undelightful five days was spent with a West Coast Californian dude and his entourage. He insisted on us hiring for him the only two vulgar, stretch limos in Cape Town. Low-slung, half the party facing the wrong way, with tinted windows - possibly the worst way to make your way around the peninsula. But there we were – sight-seers on display (with me praying no-one I knew would see us), drinking the French wines and Evian water he had brought over on his private jet. I don’t think they experienced much of Cape Town and its surroundings – but no doubt these were neatly ticked off as ‘done’.

Tips for the guide? Monetary gifts create a bit of nervousness. Some visitors come from countries where tipping is not common but have read the guide books; Some are embarrassed because they’re uncertain of my status; others never think of it. I have been given from R20 to R2000, a bottle of good local wine, cases of French and Californian wines.... I make a good living from guiding visitors around our winelands, but warm thanks, letters and other tokens are always welcome when they reflect good times had. Ultimately, as for an an actor, it is the applause that keeps me happy!

Perhaps my Pollyanna attitude persists because the truth is that we live in paradise, and wine really does attract the best of people. Wine lovers are food lovers, and lovers of life.

Gillie Stolzman is a director of Vineyard Ventures.