The wind positively howled through the awning stays last night, creating an eerie high pitched whine, while at the same time our TV antenna, which we had decided to elevate, sounded like it was to be torn unceremoniously from the roof with each and every gust. And cold, gee it was cold, although that had a lot to do with Bec obviously requiring the doona much more than I. I nocturnal game of tug of war ensued, a game of which I came out as the underdog.

With all this nighttime activity, sleep was hard to come by, so it was a rude awakening this morning when the warbling of the alarm sounded, sending the dogs bouncing across the bed and in turn us. There was to be no extra rest though, as a big day was in store for us, rain, hail or shine.

Not that the weather turned out to be of any concern, much of the worst of it having blown out overnight. It was still bitterly cold when the wind blew, but otherwise a rather nice day and certainly workable for a day touring around the culinary sights of the much lauded Barossa Valley wine region.

Rugged up against the chill, we piled into ‘The Beast’ for the short drive north towards the promise of gourmet delights, family run cellar doors and hand crafted goodies.

Before reaching the inner sanctum of the valley we stopped at the SA Water managed dam wall of the Barossa Reservoir. An engineering feat when it was constructed between 1899 and 1903 it now draws visitors from far and wide, who test the walls unique parabola acoustic effects. At almost 150 metres across you can stand at one end, talking in a normal voice, only to be heard clearly by listeners at the opposite side. I drew the short straw, being elected in a vote of one to one, to parade across the top of the dam wall so as to put the acoustics to the test. Sure enough I could hold a completely normal conversation with Bec across the span. Care had to be taken with topics of conversation though, as it really was a case of the wall having ears, as anyone standing on the path across the top of the dam could also listen in to whatever was being said.

Still intrigued as to the science behind the wonders of the whispering wall, we next came to a lavender farm. While we didn’t take a tour of the farm, the front garden was filled with the gloriously fragrant, deep purple flowered bushes of lavender that were the ingredient of almost everything for sale in the little gift shop and café. From the usual lavender scented soaps and creams to the more unusual lavender flavoured scones, jams and liqueurs, nothing missed out on the lavender treatment. Even dog shampoo came aromatically scented with the sweet smelling blossoms.

Smell the Lavender.

By the time we got to Lyndoch, essentially the southern gateway to the Barossa wine region, lunchtime was nearly upon us. A fortunate turn of events as it should transpire, because a well regarded bakery had pride of place in the Lyndoch main street. Before checking out the delights on offer, we gave the dogs a bit of an exhausting run in the parklands, before taking a wander down the quaint village like main street. A craft co-operative operated from a small store near the bakery. It was full of locally produced hand crafted goods, from turned wooden bowls to cuddly looking teddy bears.

At the bakery, we feasted on flavoursome, homemade meat pies, the pastry of which was a perfect combination of crispy and flakey. They were delicious, but were nothing compared to the huge slab of cheesecake we enjoyed for dessert. We had initially planned on buying two pieces, but when the first piece was presented to us, hastily changed our minds. The creamy filling was of such denseness, the slice had a decent heft to it, but retained a lightness on the palate. Topped with a layer of caramelised apple over which an even thicker layer of freshly whipped cream, dusted with chunks of walnuts, it all combined to make a sickly sweet treat. It was only with the utmost of effort that I managed to finish off the piece of cake, after Bec gave up the ghost hardly a third of the way through.

Moving off at a waddle, we pulled into a winery next. Loudly proclaiming its status as a James Haliday 5 star winery, we figured it would be a safe bet for procuring a decent drop. We weren’t to be disappointed either, as we got talking to the chatty young girl behind the counter about our travels, we managed to walk out with an entirely quaffable bottle of Shiraz and a massive flagon of Port.

That’s going to be one hell of a big night!

An antiques shop featuring a couple of sheds of grimy old furniture and messy shelves of various knick-knacks was our next quick stop on our way to a small delicatessen guilty of creating a delicious range of cured meats and sausages. From brandy infused mettwurst to smoked bacon it was all delicious. There may have been a few packs of delicacies from here that made it back to ‘The Beast’ for further tasting at a later stage.

Just up the road was the town of Tanundra. Another picture perfect village, full of dainty stone walled, tin roofed buildings that lend an old world air of antiquity to the entire area. The only thing missing was the cobblestone flagged streets. We parked ‘The Beast’ in Tanundra, secured the dogs in the back, then took off on foot to explore the main street. Among other things, we came across a tiny little hole in the wall shop, every available space within crammed with cushiony teddy bears, another small craft shop, this one selling delicious smelling sweet treats alongside the more usual selection of knitted, crocheted, quilted and embroidered goodies and a well stocked antique store, cabinets, shelves and tables all lined with dusty items from yesteryear.

Despite touring the wine region, we were to visit only 2 wineries for the day. The second one caught our attention, due to its name, Bethany Wines, not named after our gorgeous little girl I am sure, but we could encourage that notion. As it turns out, while I didn’t care for their Shiraz, Bec found the extremely sweet late harvest Riesling quite pleasing to her taste buds. Our cellar is now officially completely full I think.

We told Bethany that winery was named after her.

On the way to the township of Angaston, we made time to stop at a lookout, from which the neatly tiered vineyards spread out beneath us, reaching for as far as the eye could see. We stopped only long enough to take a couple of pictures, as time was running out and there were a few more stops we wanted to make on our return trip to the van.

The outlook from the lookout.

Firstly there was a craft and quilting store, which I let Bec enjoy on her own. Not to my taste, it meant I didn’t have to stand forlornly in the corner waiting on Bec, so she could take her time to inspect the goods at her own pace. Secondly, in Angaston was the Barossa Cheese Factory, at which Bec was again in her element. They specialise in soft, gloopy cheeses that don’t agree so much with me. I did taste one, but was left wishing I hadn’t as I struggled to get it down. Maybe they should take a leaf out of the wineries book and provide a spittoon. Not to worry, Bec found a couple of little rounds to add to our burgeoning little fridge.

Lucky the sign was out.

Our final stop for the day was at a little cottage, from within comes a range of handcrafted leather goods. We almost didn’t stop here after a quick look on the Internet suggested that the objects of our desire might be somewhat out of our price range. Seeing the sign out as we drove by, we decided to take a look anyway. What an absolutely gorgeous range of products. Boots, bags, belts and purses, all lovingly created on-site and considering the work that goes into the items, quite reasonably priced. Bec ended up buying a neat little coin purse, while I saw a folio that I liked the look of, just not the colour of. Not to worry, items can be made to order, so after selecting the leather I liked, it will be ready and posted out in a week or so. That, Bec said, can be a special surprise for my upcoming birthday. Happy Birthday to me!

Our day finally done, and still facing a lengthy drive back to the caravan park, we stopped to pick up a feast of greasy, fried chicken for dinner. Not great, but infinitely better than arriving home and having to cook and clean, especially after last nights dismal efforts in the kitchen.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.