The Kidnapping

I am filled with dread at the banging on my door.
"Your birthday came early," Kevin barks at me, "Get out of bed. Now."
It is 8:30 Saturday morning. For the last week, as the weekend and my birthday crept closer, the anxiety and terpidation grew in earnest. I had been informed earlier in the week that my birthday plans were "taken care of" and that I needn't worry.
Now, if you know me, you'll know I hate surprises. I was always the kid (Sorry Mom and Dad) who crept around two or three weeks before Christmas to find what would be waiting for me under the tree. I could wait to use the new video game, or team jacket, or even guitar, I just hated having to wait to find out what gifts were ahead.
Flash forward to this week, when my entire house was informed of the fate that awaited me, and they always demeured slightly when I would try to pry the information out of them. That is until Wednesday night, when I had a horrific thought.
"Oh no...adventure sports."
I had it in the back of my mind that Kevin would think it very funny if I was brought to a location some weekend morning and told that my bungy jump was already paid for, and that I better walk out on the platform and jump. To a person, when this thought came to my mind and I asked my friends whether this was to be my "present," they each smiled wryly and told me to "wait and see."
By Saturday morning, as Kevin knocked on my door, I was frantic. Could they really be forcing me to chat death against my will?
We piled into the Al van for the journey around 9:00. Nervous, shaking, and sick to my stomach, I was plotting my escape, just in case.
We stopped at a McDonald's (my first African McDonald's experience...it's exactly the same) for breakfast before setting off on the next leg of our journey. I got a double cheeseburger and chocolate shake to settle my stomach. My friends tried to lighten the mood by stealing a birthday crown from a children's party happening simultaneously in the Playland. Despite forcing a few smiles, I was still trying to figure out how bad it would be to jump out of a moving van on the M3 Freeway and hitchhike to a more secure location.
As we left McDonald's I thought my fate was sealed. I had accepted the fact that I was going to be forced into a bad situation.
And then we took a quick left into the Steenberg Wine Estate in Constantia.
All along, they had me fooled, and all along they planned a day of wine tasting and culinary delights for me.
We ended up tasting the full array of vintages at Steenberg. They had a delightful red blend (Nebbiolo, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlot) called Catherina, which I picked up for my mom. They're Methode Cap Classique Sparkling Wine was also very good, as well as their Loire Clone Sauvignon Blanc. Unfortunately, their soil composition left a bit to be desired in their single varietals, most notably the Cab Sauv, which left a lot to be desired. But the beautiful location on a warm spring day with excellent company more than made up for the unsteady collection of wines.
From there we set off for Hout Bay for a delicious lunch of fresh seafood. I had my first taste of Kingklip, the local whitefish, which was prepared in my favourite style (deep-fried) and served with chips. Kingklip is interesting, meatier than haddock or sole, but still having a very good texture for everyday eating.
After lunch we made one more stop at Groot Constantia, the oldest vineyard in Africa, founded more than 300 years ago. They have apparently been living off that reputation ever since, because the wines were certainly lacking in quality. Add to the mix a boorish, snotty, uncaring staff and you have a recipe for wine tasting disaster. The flavours were all over the palate, no concentration. The oaked Chardonnay in particular felt like I was licking the inside of a charred barrel. Their shiraz and sauvignon blanc/semillon blend were each passable (especially the white blend, which I enjoyed again later that evening) but that was not enough to make the R20 cover charge worth it. Nonetheless, we all had a grand time in the decadent setting, and we got to keep the wine glasses, which is good since we're running out of things to eat and drink out of in our house.
After waking up with immense sensations of dread and despair, the day turned out to be one of my best so far in Africa. A perfect capstone to my 22nd year.
What will year 23 bring? Stay tuned we'll find out together.