‘Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.’ So said Aristophanes – I know, because it was a favourite quote of my husband, usually slurred out as he uncleverly slid beneath the table. How sad that for Aristophanes (and the dear departed) wine was not seen as the inspirer of more Noble Things.

Fortunately there are higher-minded people about, like a winemaker named Eugene van Zyl. He’s quoted on the back label of Leopard’s Leap Chenin Blanc Viognier, in heartfelt fashion, thus: ‘Wine is a treasure in so many ways – it inspires poets, enthuses meals and enriches friendship. The treasure of this wine is the joyful journey of flavours....’ Not to mention that it has tropical fruit ‘purfled with hints of spice’. I do like my wine purfled and my meals enthused, don’t you? Perhaps if I understood the rest of what Eugene was on about, I’d even try his wine.

To cap it all, we are told in capital letters (though without quotation marks, so perhaps it’s the PR people who say this, not Eugene), that the wine is MADE BY HAPPY PEOPLE. How reassuring to know that in this vale of tears, appalling agricultural wages and the dop system some folk are still really enjoying their work.

A little less convincing was the PR puffery that accompanied the launch of Spice Route’s Malabar. What intrigued me first was the idea that ‘a panel of tasters took up to two weeks to select the best blend’. ‘Up to’ – does that mean 13 days or one? Or aren’t they quite sure? And what on earth were they doing for all that time, I wonder. But this is an ‘exclusive range of handcrafted wines’, after all: a mere 10 000 cases. That’s real hands-on stuff, isn’t it? – only about 50 times as large a quantity as some labels....

Another month, another few wine competitions, it seems. A rather obscure one called the ‘Tri-Nations’ caught the imagination of a few  winemakers recently. It involves our own dear land, together with Australia and – is it Chile? No, New Zealand of course, just to keep things cosily Anglo-Saxon and cricket-playing. To add to this show’s other special quirk (the judges choose the wines to judged!) this year brought the innova-tion which had them all agog from the Orange River to Agulhas: no boring trophies or silver platters for the winners, you see: instead, they each got a ‘weather suit’.

Now, the prospect of winning a raincoat and a hood is not what’s so exciting – but this ground-breaking idea opens up all sorts of sponsored prize possibilites: a golf umbrella perhaps, or a year’s supply of undies (men’s or women’s) from Woolworths. Or a set of Tupperware might look even better than a raincoat in the Vergelegen trophy cabinet. Actually, given that most of the local sponsors are not makers of plastic clothes but the banks that spend the rest of the year ripping us off, actual money might be appropriate.

Talking of competitions, another interesting innovation appeared in the National Young Wine Show this year, where they had a category for ‘Sweetish white wine’. Clever category;  maybe designed to catch some of those off-dry or near-off-dry chardonnays that impress show judges so much – Longridge, Mulderbosch and the like.

My correspondent in Robertson tells me that the entire thriving wine metropolis ground to a halt recently when someone called Nicholas Cage (apparently quite well known in the movie industry) dropped by to make a film. More damaging was his use of a rather large Antonov aeroplane on the local airstrip (notably used by flying winemaker Abrie Bruwer of Springfield, whose méthode of getting around is clearly less ancienne than his winemaking). I’ve heard that Nick is having to fork out a few million in compensation.

It seems someone else is interested in upgrading the strip – mining magnate /wine entrepreneur Graham Beck, who’s bought himself a super-duper new plane. But, unlike the movie star, he (or his minions) did some homework before landing it in Robertson, for which it’s apparently too heavy. I’m told that he is also to be handing over some millions, to have the airstrip relaid. Worth the money to be able to flip into Cape Town in 20 minutes instead of that exhausting two-hour car trip.

As I write, I suppose the Cape Winemakers’ Guild members are a little nervous about how their wines will do on the annual auction, and whether last year’s signs of growing realism are going to continue to push down the silly prices. And I wonder, again, why they have members who don’t even claim to be the winemakers any more ( in Platter anyway) – I’m thinking of Braam van Velden of Overgaauw and Norma Ratcliffe of Warwick. Maybe it’s because they’re delightful people – or they can’t think of a tactful way of telling them to push off.

And while I’m sure the CWG is thrilled to keep Beyers Truter and Kevin Grant as members, they must be a little irritated that the recent moves of these two winemakers means that Kanonkop and Hamilton Russell made their final auction appearances (for the time being?) this year. I dare say the two wineries aren’t all that chuffed about it either.  Perhaps the CWG will soon realise that fetishising winemakers is not the best thing.

Amid all the hoo-ha about screwcaps, someone recently quietly pointed out another great advantage that they have for the discerning consumer, beyond untainted wine: you can surreptitiously take a screwcapped bottle off the shelf, open it and have a quick swig to see if you like the stuff. If you don’t, simply put the cap back on and replace the bottle – it’s very difficult to see it’s been tampered with. (please take this as mere information, not as suggestion.) And for sommeliers wanting to get up to some funny replacing tricks with the screwcapped bottle they flourish before their customers – even more opportunities. Perhaps the triumph of the screwcap is going to need the retention of the capsule to be convincing.

You will probably know that the venerable and rather famous Mme de Lencque-saing of Bordeaux is pottering about purposively in Stellenbosch. As French is not widely spoken with the correct accent by farmworkers in those parts, they’ve taken to referring to her as Madame Langs Hier Aan.

Ah, bring me a glass of purfled wine – not that I aspire to saying anything clever, but there remain meals to be enthused, and many widowish sorrows to be drowned.

Cheers.