On the road: Hemel-en-Aarde.

“Nice kankle bru!” Simon (my business partner) wasn’t too happy with this comment I tossed his way. The good fellow happened to sprain his ankle, which was now nicely swolen, during a run I’d suggested we do. But anyways, enough Steph Weiss and even the most painful of injuries is bearable. Like the third-degree burn I suffered on my neck from a hot potato Simon threw at me that I would’ve dodged like Keanu in The Matrix if it hadn’t been for all that Steph Weiss. Karma isn’t a bitch, it’s a burn.

Last weekend saw over 20 mates head up to High Seasons cottages in the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley for the usual weekend of debauched eating and drinking, this time made even more celebratory since the reason for the gathering was Simon’s birthday. We piled into a Mini Cooper (just four of us, twenty people in a Mini would be a Guinness world record and plain stupid), which despite the small size of the car packs a mean amount of luggage into it. We sped down the N2, cruised over Sir Lowry’s Pass, shot past Elgin, hooked a right at Botriver and a left just before Hermanus to end up on the Hemel-en-Aarde Road, which if you’re into driving, is lots of fun.

The valley (enter your own adjectives of beauty and adoration here, blah blah) is famously home to Hamilton Russell Vineyards, who make expensive but damned good wines, and a bunch of other top Pinot-producing wineries (Creation, Newton Johnson and Bouchard Finlayson probably my favourites).  The cottages overlooked (insert your long line of adoring adjectives again) valley and we made use of these views to distract us while we sat on the lawn for the entirety of the scorching afternoon. Between us, we cracked beers, swam in the “extreme” dam, made “game-changing” margaritas, talked a lot of bullshit, laughed too much, planked on a fence, chased the bull a bit (as you do), drank lots of Bouchard Finlayson Sauvignon Blanc, rolled down hills, did the peacock dance and some rather spring-like worm dance moves.

After it all, Marco the legendary Porra made the world’s tastiest prawns. 12kg of them. They came in waves, a relentless shellfish and garlic attack that showed our stomachs no mercy. There might have been some greens, potatoes and a 5L bottle of wine. There apparently were brownies too. But things got rather fuzzy by then. Thank God the tequila stayed in the fridge, one can only imagine what mayhem would’ve happened if that found it’s way into the wrong hands.

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All pics by Andrew Brauteseth / @guy_with_camera .