Maipu, Day 78

Actually getting to Maipu is an adventure in itself, as riding the city buses is unnecessarily complicated. Argentina is chronically short of coins so finding sufficient change for the fare takes forever. Also each bus has two numbers describing its destination. For future reference route #10, bus #171 goes to downtown Maipu. Once there, Mr. Hugo’s bikes quickly rents us the required equipment and we’re soon wobbling down the cycle path towards our first winery (even without his illegal drugs, Christi and I would be no match for Lance Armstrong – or his mother). The bodega La Rural offers some very generous wine tasting and a museum of vintage wine-making equipment to explore.

It’s a long haul to the next winery, only now the bike lane has disappeared. All manner of vehicles are vying for space on the two-lane road and we are by far the slowest and the most vulnerable. At times, we are forced off the road by large lorries who thunder passed, leaving us in their dust. But when we can enjoy the view, it is quite beautiful with vineyards and olive trees and large stands of sycamores and poplars lining the road.

Bodega Di Tommaso is a boutique winery dating to 1869. Christi tastes two different malbecs and a cab; the sample sizes are very generous and Christi is becoming very happy. The bodega also has a restaurant so we eat a late lunch: a cheese plate and more wine (plus OJ for me). Our last winery is Vina el Cerno, which is beautifully situated among more vineyards and olive orchards and is splendidly rustic. By this point Christi is swaying quite alarmingly (she assures me she’s just tired), but the local police insist on providing a motorcycle escort until we reach the relative safety of the bike lane again. Our last stop is at an eclectic store producing artesian chocolates, liquors, jams, and olive oil. And finally I get to do some tasting: the tapenade, aubergine, and dulce de leche preserves are delightful. Christi mixes these up with some liquors, including a very potent Absinthe.

Back in Mendoza we eat dinner at a more touristy parrilla, but the pork chorisso sausage and the matambre de cerdo are mediocre after last night’s fare. Fortunately, Christi does not remember too much about the experience.