We need to talk about this tram: The Franschhoek Wine Tram. You get on the tram, it takes you to wine. You get back on the tram, it takes you to more wine. Forever.
Four hours we spent jumping on-and-off this beautiful adventure to alcoholism. And we could have spent four more hours... If we hadn't been falling asleep in our Chenin Blancs and dribbling-out our Sémillons.
The Franschhoek Valley is gorgeous - all elephantine hills of green sprawling into the scorching veld beyond; clear azure skies and vineyards. Everywhere. As far as the eye can see. When the French arrived in the late 17th century they left a legacy of fine, cheap wine and lazy-sunshine-filled days. The wine tram feasts through the area, taking in over 20 vineries and wine-farms - a visual banquet of rural South Africa and Cape-Dutch architecture.
Rickety Bridge was our first stop - a rustic, boutique winery boasting a selection of Sauvignon, Pinotage and Merlot, costing around one-British-Pound a glass. IMAGINE. We live in Dubai where a glass of wine costs TEN TIMES that amount. It would have been highly discourteous of us to not have five glasses each.
Blissfully and leisurely, the tram next transported us to La Bourgogne Farm, where we sat in an orchard and drank some more. We didn't even realise it had reached over 34 degrees Celsius by this point - that's how relaxed and inebriated you become.
At each of the wineries an eloquent and affable sommelier will attempt to talk you through each of the grapes/ glasses/ barrels... But by this point you'll be far too drunk to notice or care. There will be lots of smiling and slurring as you try to pretend you're far more sober than is actually possible.