Now that Jeff and I are Mexicans, we’ve resolved to explore our adopted country more thoroughly. So this weekend, we visited Baja wine country in the Guadalupe Valley.

Most gringos aren’t aware that some of the best wines in North America come from this area. With over 150 wineries and a growing number of fine restaurants, boutique inns and organic markets, it would be easy to spend many days exploring here.

But Jeff and I, along with our new friend and neighbor, Marshall, only had a day, so we tried to cram as much into it as humanly possible. Since we don’t have a car, we hired a private driver who spoke pretty good English to chauffeur us from winery to winery. We wanted to practice our fledgling Espanol on him, but he was more interested in practicing his English on us. (We did learn a few choice cuss words, though.)

I chose four smallish wineries that looked like good choices, but Benjamin, the driver, convinced us to visit two additional ones first. (I guess he gets a kick-back for bringing tourists through, but they obviously didn’t realize that we are bona-fide “Mexicans” since we finally received our resident visas last week.)

E. L. Cetto is the largest winery in the valley, and we joined a group that was just beginning for the mandatory tour of the winery. I guess most people feel it’s important to understand the process of wine-making, but we were really just there to drink. The catch is, though, that you are required to endure the tour and lecture before imbibing.

To add insult to injury, the hour-long tour was in Spanish, as we were the only non-native participants out of the 60 or so attendees.  But we tried to be good sports, and laughed when everybody else laughed, stood for pictures in front of the casks, and feigned fascination. We may not have command of the language, but drinking is universal, right?

Well, turns out, not exactly. When we finally made it to the tasting tables, tucked underneath glorious giant trees and flowering plants, we had to cue-up for our guide/bartender to give us a thimble-sized pour.

Finally, we were served. I turned to my mates and the group behind me and raised my glass.

“Salud”  I toasted before wetting my whistle with the microscopic Merlot.  Following giggles from our giddy group, I soon realized they weren’t laughing with me, they were laughing at me. That’s when the attractive Mexican woman behind me explained to me, in perfect English, that we were now, as a group, supposed to swirl the liquid around in our glasses, sniff, swirl some more, and listen to yet another lecture about the proper way to sample fine wine.  (Fingers on stem, pinkie out. HA!)

Well, hell. Back in Appalachia we were taught, at a young age, to throw back a shot of moonshine with a chaser of some sort, (usually Mountain Dew) and comment on its ability to kick-your-ass afterward.

After 4 tastings of more of the same, we joined our well-meaning driver back at the car.

“No more of this touring shit. Lets just go straight to the tastings.”

And so we did. During the span of several hours, we hit four more wineries, each unique, most offering a sampling of gourmet cheeses and bread. At each winery we were offered four tastings. Since I am a white-wine kinda girl, I often just went back for the ones I liked. Why waste a ticket on a red you don’t want, right?

I especially enjoyed La Casa de Dona Lupe. They had a lovely little organic shop featuring regional cheeses, olive oils, jams and spreads. I bought a jar of chipolte-jalepeno-mango spread that will make a lovely appetizer for one of the many happy hours back at the marina. They also served their wine samples in little shot-glasses, which made me feel more at home, as well as seeming like a more generous pour than having the same amount barely covering the bottom of a fancy wine glass.

The icing on the cake was a presentation by an Aztec “Fire Dancer”. He was a beautiful specimen of a man. Beautiful! He played multiple “instruments” including a whistle of some sort, a conch horn and bongos.  He danced around and over a small fire-bowl, and the atmosphere was unique with the free-range roosters and hens joining in. He got a nice big gratuity from yours truly!!

Sol de Medianoche was a lovely little winery and offered some good munchies while we sipped our vino. The girl pouring spoke perfect English, and blatantly flirted with Jeff the entire visit. Oh, she was fascinated that he was a Gemini, but much less interested that I was an Aires who recently celebrated a birthday. A Gemini! Oh, My!!

Dinner at Deckmans, just outside of El Mogar winery was delicious. We shared a bottle of our favorite wine of the day along with various delicacies from the sea while overlooking the vineyards and mountains in the background. It reminded me of home in Southeastern Kentucky, but without the wineries, legal alcohol and seafood.

The 45-minute ride home at dusk was quiet, following our full day and 372 wine tastings. There are still 146 wineries to explore, so we’ll rest up, sober up, and enjoy it all again soon!