I have to admit, the first thing that drew me to the Skyline in Rotorua was not the fact that my grandmother was paying for me to visit. Nor was it the attractions at the top. It was the Volcanic Hills Winery. I’d heard they had a tasting room at the top of the cable car, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
I love wines, and although I’ve had my fair share of experiences drinking New Zealand wines, I wouldn’t say I am very knowledgable about them. But my day at the Skyline in Rotorua ended up being so much more than sampling some of the local tipple.
Going up in the cable car to the top of Mount Ngongotaha is an experience from the get go. We jump in the car, and the house photographer leans over to tell us to smile for our photo. Mother Nomad shuts him down immediately.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she says, repeating “no” just incase he didn’t understand her the first time.
“Thanks for giving me a break today,” replied the photographer, with a smile that indicated perhaps he was even being sincere.
At the top of the Skyline we try to work out what’s what. We wander around checking out the various activities on offer. From the minute he spots it, C has his eye on the luge. We ponder, but continue to walk past it and stumble across the restaurant. But I’m still not happy. I know there is more than a restaurant. I know there is a wine tasting room somewhere, I just need to find it.
After doing a full 360° of the complex and ending back at the same point where we exited from the cable car, I see a sign pointing me directly to the Volcanic Hills Winery.
Volcanic Hills Winery
We walk in the room, and we are greeted by firstly, the panoramic view across Lake Rotorua, and secondly, the friendly smile of Anna. It doesn’t take much arm-twisting for all of our party to agree to the five-wine wine tasting.
“We want to go on the luge after, do you think we should go and do that first and drink the wine after?” asks C.
Anna laughs as she explains the tastings are small – only 30mLs each – so we won’t quite be over the drink drive limit.
We sit down at the table while Anna prepares our wines. Upon the table are three laminated papers, displaying information about New Zealand’s wine, wine regions, and Volcanic Hills’ wines.
New Zealand is a small country, and when I look at the map of New Zealand on the table I realise the amount I know about New Zealand’s wine is even smaller.
I learn for the first time that the Marlborough wine growing region is on the South Island. Growing up in Australia, Marlborough wines are synonymous for New Zealand wines, and you won’t find a bar or restaurant in Australia that doesn’t have a least one Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc on their wine list.
But for some reason, I always thought it was located in the North Island. Perhaps because, for me, the North Island encompasses New Zealand. I’ve visited New Zealand countless times, but never once stepped foot on the South Island.
Anna explains to us about the purpose of today’s tasting, which is to profile the best of New Zealand’s wines from north to south.
Volcanic Hills is a small artesian winery, producing only 3,500 cases of wine per year. The winery itself is located at the bottom of the cable car, but the tasting room is at the top, which is where we are now. She doesn’t need to explain why the business is set up this way, the views tell me all. Like they say, a picture paints 1,000 words.
The wine here really is the real deal.
All of Volcanic Hills’ wines are produced with no added sugar, and with a labour of love. As we are beginning our tasting I can see one of the wine makers in the corner, experimenting with his art. But as much as I enjoy the view and spying on what the winemaker is up to, it’s time to get down to business.
The Wines
First up, we try the white wines. We start with a sensible choice, a Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region, which is without a doubt the wine that put New Zealand on the wine producing map.
I used to love Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, and in my former days of drinking wine just for pleasure with not an ounce of curiosity, I would always reach for a bottle. It didn’t matter whether I was in the bottle shop, at the pub, or dining in a restaurant. But now I drink wine not just for pleasure, but for actually learning a thing or two while I am at it – let’s call it civilised drinking – and with this grown up attitude, my tastes have grown up with it.
The problem I have found since returning to Australia, after becoming used to European style white wines which are generally not as fruity, is that I find Australian, and now New Zealand, Sauvignon Blancs just too overpowering. I want to drink wine, not eat a fruit salad.
But this wine? I quite like it. While fruity, as expected from a Sauvignon Blanc of this region, the fruitiness is more subtle, it’s not overpowering like I have experienced with similar wines in the recent past.
So how will the next wine, the Volcanic Hills Pinot Gris compare?
The Pinot Gris is, to put it in layman terms, the complete opposite. While the Sauvignon Blanc was quite acidic, the Pinot Gris is acid free. And where the Sauvignon Blanc brought flavours of citrus fruits to my mouth, the Pinot Gris came with nectarines, pears and honey. This is a very dry wine – less than 4% sugar – and very smooth. I immediately deem that it would be just a little too easy to drink this wine at any time of the day.
For our next tasting Anna presents us with a choice. Our first choice is a rose wine, but knowing that I am in a place that doesn’t have a reputation for doing roses well, I am skeptical. However, Anna tells us that the Volcanic Hills Rose is very different to most roses produced in this part of the world. It’s made in the style of European rose wines, very dry with light floral flavours such as rose petals and violets, but, even more surprisingly, it also has hints of mushroom in it, giving it an organic kind of feel.
The other option is the Volcanic Hills Chardonnay – a grape variety that I would’ve never even considered ordering previously, but have found recently is growing on me. Since being back down under, I have noticed that the new style Chardonnays don’t have as much oak as they did in the past. So I decide I am going to take a risk and order one, although in the end we agree to order the Chardonnay for half our party, and rose for the other, so we can try a little of everything.
It turns out that the Volcanic Hills Chardonnay has a substantial amount of oak – at least, to my palate – and it reminds me too much of an old-style Chardonnay. The type I don’t like. But that’s okay. Mother Nomad is happy to share her rose as agreed, and the rose is very enjoyable.
Over the course of the tasting Anna breaks up the wines with stories about her life.
Sometimes these experiences are only as good as the people who are showing them to you, and as soon we met Anna we immediately liked her. She is originally from Australia but has lived in New Zealand for decades. It’s clear that this country – and its wine – are her passions.
She seems to be a free spirit who went on an adventure, ended up living in New Zealand and falling into the wine industry. And we’re glad she did – her casual and friendly demeanour, passion for wine and stories, make this tasting so much more than just a tasting. They turn it into an experience.
But the experience isn’t over yet, and it’s time to try the reds.
Anna explains that both of the red wine we are going to try are Pinot Noir. The curious thing is, despite the wine being produced from the same grape, they really are two entirely different types of wine.
This means that the difference in flavor has come from the landscape around. The soil, climate and air has had complete influence here, because the root plant and clone of the grape variety are exactly, 100%, the same.
Ever animated, Anna describes them as the male and female. We try the female first, which is the Pinot Noir from Central Otago in the South Island. Although light and delicate, the wine has flavours of dark berries and even a little of spice. I can’t help but think that if I was in Spain, I would drink this wine chilled on a hot summer’s day.
It’s the Pinot Noir from Martinborough in the North Island that’s the more masculine and robust red wine on offer. I still enjoy this one, but it probably wasn’t quite the right day for it. To me, this is the kind of wine reserved for cold evenings with a good winter meal. Definitely not the wine for an unusually sunny day, right before I am about to take part in some action. We finish our wine, say a gracious farewell to Anna and make for the exit. Off to the luge I go.
The Luge
If it wasn’t for the fact that I had earlier seen five year olds speeding off on the luge, I don’t know that I would’ve got on it. I would’ve found some excuse. I mean, I’d never been on a luge before. Was it really going to be fun?
I even mentioned to Anna earlier that “if five year olds could do it, so could I.” I don’t know why I really needed to express this. Perhaps it was a kind of self-preservation technique? Whatever it was, it pushed me towards to the luge.
We select our helmets carefully and I put mine on, making sure to pull just that little tighter on the straps at each side.
I may seem paranoid but after a few merry tastings of wine, and my reputation for clumsiness that I seem to have no problem upholding, I have visions of me catapulting straight off that thing into… oh, who knows, a tree, a rock, or even worse, another luge driven by one of the local guys who don’t look like the kind of guys you’d want to mess with.
We are told when we arrive at the luge that for the first lap we must do the beginner track.
I let C go ahead of me, as I wouldn’t want to be responsible for holding up the traffic on the track. The track lasts for about 10 minutes, and while enjoyable – so much so that the further down the hill we get, the lighter on the brakes I become – there is nothing particular to note. It’s just a good time, and as I arrive at the bottom I am happy that I had purchased two laps on the luge track.
The chairlift takes us back up to the top and we rejoin the queue for the second lap. As we are waiting in the queue C gets the attention of one of the workers.
“Hey, which one of these tracks is the advanced route?” he asks.
The guy points us in the direction of the third and last track, which veers off in the opposite direction to the first. Before I even have time to contemplate the maneuver, C jumps on the luge and zips off down the third track.
I follow. What else can I do?
Photo: Adam Axon via Creative Commons License
The next track proves that it’s not as tame as the beginner one.
For the first minute or so I zip down the track with an air of confidence. Hey, I can do this now.
I pull around to the right then around to the left as I descend rapidly, the blue sky being replaced with a canopy of trees hanging over me the further down I go. I approach a racing track style corner, with yellow and black ridges to stop me going up on the edge of the curve, and then the same on the following corner too.
I’m supposed to ride these curves, but on the first one I fail miserably. The whole luge vibrates over the ridges, creating a strange, almost painful effect on my sweaty palms gripping onto the handlebars. I manage to master it on the second curve.
Further downhill the path seems to end. But actually, it doesn’t. It’s a rapid dip and I race down into it. The luge lifts off the ground taking me with it, and lands back down on the concrete with a thud. I’m still in the luge, and we keep on racing, right until the end.
The end comes only a few hundred metres later, which means this time the luge track is over in a matter of minutes. I am surprised, expecting another 10 minutes of joy riding, but I realise that, of course, while the beginner track is more of a gradual ride down the hill, the advanced track just goes straight on down.
C and I meet at the bottom, in fits of giggles about our three minute adventure that took us both in the air, ran the wind through our hair, and got the adrenaline pumping.
You know what they say – don’t drink and drive, but don’t booze and luge said no one ever.
Have you been to experience the action at Rotorua’s Skyline before? Perhaps you’ve been on a luge somewhere else in the world? Tell me about it in the comments below!
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