Went to Niagara-on-the-Lake this past weekend to attend a wedding. Not my own, of course, but a cousin of the milliner’s. Took off Friday afternoon, after first stopping off at a photographer to get our portrait taken. (I swear, portraits, wine tours, etc. I feel like a yuppie. That’s not a good thing.) Drive to Toronto, crash at S’s aunt’s, and drive to Niagara Saturday morning. Nice place, but wow are there ever a lot of tourists.
The milliner had confirmed our presence at a pre-wedding wine tasting, but when we got there we were informed, in no uncertain terms, that this was a ladies-only event, and that I was expected to do the manly thing of playing golf. Um, yeah. Bite me.
So, instead we depart from the wedding party and go off and do our own tastings. Hint: Peller wines? Yeah, not so good. Meet up with the folks, go for supper, and crash. Get up on Sunday (who gets married on a Sunday?, and after breakfast hit another winery. Mmmm, ice wine on a Sunday morning, she is good, no? Do the tourist thing until the afternoon, and go to the wedding. Outside. In the hot sun. The groom’s men were sweating buckets. Hee. Nice ceremony, however.
Later, we get to the reception. Annnnd, to tell the truth, I don’t remember much of that. The food was good, I remember that. And the wine flowed. I vaguely remember that. But there was no water to be had. So, to rehydrate after a day in the sun, I drank wine. Lots of it. And, um, several full glasses of Grand Marnier.
Trust me on this, a massive hangover of Grand Marnier and recent vintage white wine leave a taste in the mouth that I don’t want to repeat. Tough to get back to work this morning.