Earthy Notes

Muddy footprints on the stark white marble leading towards the bathroom did little to disguise what was going on in there. My attention was divided between awkwardly washing myself in the bidet and trying to keep leaves from clogging the drain, while my dress lay in a crumpled heap at my feet. This was NOT how I imagined our much-anticipated visit to Bodega Renacer.

This story begins three years prior, when Reece and I had our first taste of the wine during an anniversary dinner. It continues across several special occasions as we repeatedly gifted the coveted bottle to one another. It climaxes during our visit to Mendoza, three months into a one-year trip around the world.

We always knew this day would come. We looked longingly at their website and imagined stepping foot onto the manicured lawn. We envisioned lazy afternoons spent sipping wine on the sunny terrace. We anticipated the wine-maker himself would greet us, so flattered by the distance we’d traveled that he’d insist on gifting us a free bottle of his finest.

What we didn’t know, is that upon our arrival in Mendoza it would be nearly impossible to get a reservation at Renacer. We also weren’t aware that it would require three failed attempts before actually catching the right bus to wine country. And how were we to guess that when we finally arrived and rented our tour bikes, that we’d encounter torrential downpours? It’s a good thing I dressed up for the occasion.

Amidst fits of laughter, we struggled down the flooded country road. Each passing vehicle splashed a fresh wave upon us, until I finally decided to seek higher ground. I found what appeared to be a slim crossing over the overflowing gutter and made my move. As I secured my footing for a leap I felt my foot begin to sink, along with my heart at the thought of soiling my sandals. Before I could react… WHOOSH! What appeared to be solid ground was just a gathering of debris atop the rushing river. In an instant, I found myself chest deep and sinking fast. Reece rushed over and yanked me from the muddy trench before barely saving my bicycle.

At this point, a reasonable person would deem it time to head home. But I was not coming this far without tasting some wine.

We finally arrived at Renacer, shivering and disheveled. As couples emerged from chauffeured town cars, I snuck away to find a restroom. Reece guarded the door and made nervous small talk while I cleaned thick mud from porcelain countertops. Like a true gentleman, he offered me his dry boxers. Paired with a shawl around my waist and a zipped-up raincoat, I was prepared for a classy afternoon.

Needless to say, things didn’t pan out quite as expected. The shopping bag we left with contained not a bottle of their reserve blend, but rather my sewage-soaked shoes. We never did drink that wine again. The earthy notes proved too overpowering.