Tag Archives: chocolate

Escape from Melbourne, and Day 1 on Tasmania

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Friday 6 September 2024 – Our entry to Melbourne was not entirely straightforward. Neither was our exit, which laid bare the sheer opacity of the airline ticketing process. We had been booked on a Virgin Australia flight yesterday morning from Melbourne to Hobart, a relatively short flight of an hour and a quarter or so. When we came to check in online, we found we were not allowed to do so; seats had not been allocated, there were no free seats except extra cost options (extra legroom seats, basically), and when I tried to pay the extra, all my various credit or debit cards were declined on the incomprehensible basis that I was trying to pay in a currency different from that of the original booking. I think it was something to do with it having been a travel agent booking, a suspicion which was reinforced later.

Some moments after failing to check in online, we received an e-mail from VA apologising for changing our flights. Instead of a direct flight at 10.40am, we were now on a 3.30pm flight. Closer examination of the e-mail revealed that the flight was to Sydney, and would be followed by a 5.50pm flight from Sydney to Hobart. None of the options we could explore online revealed that there were any direct flights available from Melbourne to Hobart. So we checked in for our multi-stage flight thinking that VA must have cancelled the original one.

We took a small amount of comfort from the later departure time, were able to have a relaxed morning exiting our apartment, and got ourselves to the airport for about 2pm. At this point, Jane’s caution about the whole thing paid off, as she was concerned about whether our bags would be checked through all the way to Hobart. So we looked around for an operative to help us and, as luck would have it, he, Irwan, was brilliant. He took us to a manned bag drop and started chatting with the lady there; between them, they figured out that there was a 1720 direct flight from Melbourne to Hobart. Irwan then spent quite a lot of screen time basically, we think, getting around all the objections that the system was throwing up against us being allowed on this flight. Again, the fact that this was a travel agent booking was mentioned as a complication. To cut what is already a long story short, he managed to cudgel his computer into allocating us extra legroom seats on this direct flight for no extra charge, proving that he was a Good Man. We had some time to kill before our flight, but would still arrive earlier than VA’s rather eccentric re-routing.

My suspicion is that VA had overbooked all the Hobart flights that day which is why it was rerouting us via Sydney; and further that we were lucky to find in Irwan someone who could get round the technological barriers put in place to make our lives more miserable.

So, we had three hours to kill before our flight. This could mean only one thing.

As it happens, our departure was delayed a further 30 minutes by the late arrival of air crew, but we still got to Hobart

earlier than we would have done had we gone via Sydney.

Awaiting us to transfer us to our hotel was a young Taiwanese chap called Stephen who was very proactive in helping us with bags and so forth, and so we were soon enough at the frankly quite amazing Henry Jones Art Hotel on Hobart waterfront. Only once before had we walked into a hotel which made such a striking impression – the Singular Hotel in Patagonia. The Henry Jones has a unique vibe and quite a history to it and I shall write about it in more detail in due course. For now, suffice it to say that we have a very large and very comfortable room and the lady who runs the bar knows her cocktails.

All that was yesterday. Today, we were booked to go on an excursion to Bruny Island, a very oddly-shaped island south of Hobart.

(By the way, the empty bit shown on the left of the map really does look like that on Google. That’s because it seems to be empty – it’s the Southwest National Park and appears to be devoid of anything which looks like civilisation.)

Our tour was billed as offering “spectacular landscapes and tastings of gourmet local products”, so I thought we were in for a day of mainly majestic scenery. Since it was raining when we were picked up, I also hoped that we would simply be ferried about to gawp at (and, of course, photograph) the views without getting too soused. The day didn’t turn out like that, actually.

Our guide for the day was Alan

who was wrangling a coach and 24 guests. We had a drive to the ferry terminal,

where there was also a marina.

As we crossed the D’Entrecasteaux Channel and looked back, it was clear that the Tasmanian scenery was going to be quite different from almost any we’d so far encountered.

Having expected majestic landscapes on our arrival, I was a bit surprised that the first thing that Alan was talking about was a cheese stop. As we headed there, Alan gave us a few facts about Bruny Island, and it was clear that it was reasonably close in spirit to French Island, where we’d been just a couple of days before. Larger than French Island, its population is just 600. It’s not so off-grid – there’s electricity, for example, and a greater range of retail options than just the one general store – but it’s still mainly national park, state forest and some grazing areas, popular as a holiday location with some surfing beaches.

And so this was our first destination on the tour:

the Bruny Island Cheese Company. It is the first time in my life that I have had a tutored cheese tasting.

The tasting was led by Paola

who did a great job of explaining about the company, its products and its ethos, all of which are rather impressive. The cheese business has been going since 2003, after its founder, Nick Haddow, spent 10 years working with specialist cheese makers in many different countries around the world. The milk used is from their own farm, Glen Huon, which is actually on the mainland and which raises three rare breeds. Unusually, it allows the calves to stay with their mothers and drink their milk for several months, which lowers the stress levels for the cows, thus improving the quality of the milk yield. The focus on solely Tasmanian produce shapes the way they make their cheese and what ingredients are used in its production. We sampled four cheeses.

(Apologies for the photo of food, which is normally against my principles, but it is rather the story, here.)

You’ll notice a glass of beer in the photo. That’s there because in 2016 the company also started brewing its own beer, again using only Tasmanian-grown ingredients.

It was clear that there was a lot of passion, dedication and expertise at work. As a result, the cheeses are award-winning.

As we trooped back on to the bus and moved on, Alan mentioned the other tastings we would be doing during the tour – chocolate and honey. So it became clear that this was to be a major component of the day.

Our next stop, though, was a scenery stop, with a historical twist. From the map above, you can see that the two major lumps of the island are joined by a narrow stretch of land, which is about 70m wide at its narrowest. We could take the opportunity for a good view over it, provided we were prepared to walk up

some 240 steps. I did this, and the view was, indeed, worth the climb. You can clearly see The Neck, the strip of land that connects North and South Bruny.

The historical angle could be found at the top;

a monument to Truganini, a powerful aboriginal woman who fought for the rights of the indigenous people against the early colonists. She witnessed the murder of her mother by sailors and the kidnap of her sisters by sealers. She formed an association with a lay preacher, George Augustus Robinson, who hatched various plans to relocate those aboriginals who had not been killed of by colonists and their diseases, and enlisted Truganini’s help in executing those plans. The various plans and promises came to naught – it is a depressing story to read, and her treatment after her death reflects even more badly on the colonists. Her life has become representative of both the dispossession and destruction that was exacted upon Indigenous Australians and also their determination to survive the colonial genocidal policies that were enforced against them.

The area around the lookout is also home to Little Penguins and Mutton Birds (Shearwaters), and their burrows can be seen in places, and beside a lower boardwalk in the same location.

The bitumen of the road running along The Neck was changed from black to white

in order that the penguins could better be seen by motorists. We saw no penguins – it’s the wrong time of year for that here – but I did spot a blue wren.

We moved on past the pleasant scenery of the island’s settled areas,

and stopped for a short walk in the Mavista area, where there’s a walking track through rainforest.

It has a very prehistoric feel to it, due to the ferns and moss that dominate the environment.

Our next stop was to be lunch, in an area called Adventure Bay. En route, though, Alan spotted something quite unexpected – a white wallaby.

It was actually nearby another, conventionally grey, wallaby,

and the two of them seemed quite unconcerned by a coachload of people taking their photos; Alan said they actually relished the attention.

The lack of predators, the indulgence of the local people towards their cuteness, and the lack of colour prejudice amongst the animals themselves means that the white wallabies prosper on Bruny. (The jury seems to be out when it comes to deciding whether their colouring is leucistic or albino; whatever, it’s quite striking). It is also the name of a gin which is used as the basis for a local spritzer-type drink

which we drank to accompany our fish-and-chips lunch.

In the same area is the Bligh Museum of Pacific Exploration,

established in 1954 to display historic maps, paintings and other artifacts relating to the landings at Adventure Bay by various famous explorers, such as Tasman himself, James Cook and William Bligh. It’s quite small, but has masses of content

including the very tree stump to which Captain Cook moored his ship, the Resolution, in 1777.

The stump had been left in its original location, with a plaque attached describing its significance, until some utter wanker removed the plaque, leaving the V-shaped gash you can see. At that point, it was moved to the museum for its own protection.

Further up the road is Two Tree point (I’m still trying to work out a gag around one Two Tree, but have so far failed). This is thought to be where Cook’s artist painted a picture, of which a reproduction is on display.

This is my version of it.

You can see a beach there, but the recent violent weather which marooned us on Kangaroo Island and which has made south Australian lives a misery over the last week actually caused much of the sand to be washed away.

All those rocks used to be covered in sand.

Enough of this history; it was time for some more artisanal experience – the Bruny Island Chocolate Company. Actually, we didn’t get sucked into the vortex of possible chocolate purchases, but instead joined Alan and a group of others in exploring the neighbouring gardens of the chaps who have created and run the chocolate company. One of them got his love of chocolate from years of work as a chef; the other is a dentist, which seems rather a neat partnership for demand generation.

The gardens – normally private, but open for our group to visit – are rather lovely.

You’ll notice, in the final picture above, that the cock appears to have, well, a cock. It doesn’t; it’s actually its foot you can see (the one on the right, below).

There’s a lovely globe, made out of bits of scrap from the garage of one of their fathers

and various other nice exhibits.

After this, it was time for our final artisanal experience of the day – the Honey Pot.

The honey made here comes from bees which are moved around the island, following the nectar flows so that they can create their honeys from a variety of flowers. One can taste them, so when a coachload of people turns up, there’s a bit of a feeding frenzy.

We were given some honey ice cream and a taster pot of our choice to take away with us.

That was it for the tour – we headed back to the ferry

and thence to our hotel, after a day which was very enjoyable but nothing like what I had expected. We have no formal programme for tomorrow, bar a tour of the Henry Jones Hotel, but I expect that the obvious thing for us to do will be to go for a walk. Whatever happens, I’ll be sure to report about it here, so do please keep in touch to find out how the day unfolded.

Day 16 – Puerto Viejo to Aquiares – Choc full of passion and joy

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Monday 6 March 2023 – All we had to do today was to get from Puerto Viejo to Aquiares, a three-and-a-half hour drive – eventually.  We had, however, an intriguing break to the journey; a visit to the Nortico Cacao Farm, near Turrialba. “Mmmmm”, we thought. “Chocolate”, we thought.  How little we knew….

Breakfast at the villas was as good as it had been the previous day, and we were able to get on the road in good time, but in very wet and murky conditions.  The drive was fundamentally OK, but took us back to the ghastliness that is Route 32.  Yes; the one with the roadworks, which is even less charismatic in the rain.  It’s obviously an important route, since it leads from Limón, a major port, to San José, the capital.

The bit we had to do was from Limón to Siquirres (a town we childishly kept calling Squirrels)

which is the section with the roadworks.  And the ghastly industrial bits

and, erm, Liverpool.

Seems strange to find such a famous UK place name in Costa Rica.

We ground it out without serious incident and then turned off in the direction of Turrialba, at which point it was clear that (a) we were going into the mountains, and (b) the mountains were largely shrouded in cloud.

Waze led us along yet another daunting path, with one tense moment involving someone coming the other way fortunately resolved in our favour, to arrive at Nortico

slightly early for lunch.  This enabled a reasonably well-needed bathroom break, which gave me the first insight that the visit here was not going to be dull. This plaque was on the wall of the loo.

We met Aldo, the Tico part of “Nortico”. His wife, Ann-Elin, is Norwegian, which explains the other part. From the start it was clear that his passion and knowledge of his specialist subject and his joy at communicating it matched and even exceeded that of Miguel “Monkey” at Tortuga Lodge.  He made us feel at ease, arranged coffee for us, prepared in a very traditional way,

gave us chocolate and then provided lunch (chicken, rice and beans!) before two other couples (one French, one German) turned up for the main event – a deep, swift and brain-boggling immersion into the complexities of cacao, which I had thought was a pretty straightforward fruit with a pretty well-understood story.  How wrong I was….

Aldo presided over a hugely entertaining session of discussion, education and interaction

on the general subject of cacao: its history (found first in Amazonia, first cultivated in Mexico and Mesoamerica); which countries you can find it in (all around the equator); which country produces the most (Ivory Coast, though not in a sustainable way); and its quality and varieties (in vast numbers).  This was where we began to understand the complexities around cacao – there are an enormous number of varieties, only 5% of which are of top quality – “fine flavour”. This 5% excludes all of the bulk cacao production, which therefore means any chocolate from any chocolate maker you’ve ever heard of.  Except maybe one or two.

Cacao and the production of chocolate has many similarities with the complexities of grape varieties and wine.  There are many, many varieties of grape, there are many sorts of wine, but only a very small percentage of wines could be described as fine wine. Much knowledge of grape cultivation and vinification is needed to produce the top quality wines and the same is true for cacao and chocolate. The Nortico Farm has settled on just eight varieties of cacao to cultivate and use for chocolate. They have been carefully selected not only for their individual aroma and taste characteristics, but also because they will not cross-pollinate, so each variety remains pure. It’s a small operation – just four hectares – but operated with loving attention to detail in the growing, picking and processing of cacao into the various types of chocolate that Nortico sells.

Whilst Aldo was explaining all of this, he was also passing round samples of the various types of chocolate for the six of us to taste. He introduced Anna-Laura to us, the third person in the business beside Aldo and Ann-Elin

Anna-Laura and Aldo, who is displaying his 2023 Excellence in Cacao Award

and Anna-Laura had the pleasure of taking us out into the rain to explain about growing and processing cacao.

“Sistema Mixto” involved not growing cacao plants intensively, but interspersed with banana plants which provide necessary shade for the cacao plants, extra nutrients in the soil and produce to sell whilst waiting for the cacao plants to mature.

The cacao fruits come in a variety of colours

and the colours depict either the variety of cacao or the maturity of each fruit. So you kind of have to know what you’re doing when picking – fruits don’t all mature at the same time, so those on the same branch will be at differing stages of growth.

We’d been to a chocolate factory elsewhere so we were familiar with the structure of the fruit – a shell, with seeds inside, each coated with a pulp (surprisingly sweet-tasting).

Once picked, the seeds and pulp are put into a kind of solera fermenting system;

they start at the top and progress, over the course of a couple of days, down to the bottom, with fermentation being sped along by the sweetness of the pulp.  The resulting seeds are then spread out to dry, if possible in the heat of the sun

or, if wet, assisted (in this case by a solar-power driven heater)

and sorted (by hand!) to pick out and discard the seeds which have not fermented properly and which will not contribute to fine chocolate.

Whilst Anna-Laura was explaining this, Aldo was setting up the next phase of the experience.  He equipped everyone with some dried seeds

which were still covered in in a shell-like skin which had to be split off.

The bowl contains the beans, or nibs, which go on to be the basis for chocolate – the skins or shells can be used for compost.

Then the nibs have to be ground into a paste.

This paste has the cacao butter in it which many manufacturers actually extract at this point and replace with something like palm oil; cacao butter is a valuable product which can be profitably sold elsewhere, for example into the cosmetics industry. This is another thing that marks out fine chocolate from the rabble that you and I normally buy and eat.

Then we each took our portion of paste and added ingredients to taste – milk (powdered milk only, the fat in liquid milk interferes with the final taste), sugar, ginger, salt, cinnamon and so forth, plus water

such that you end up with a lovely, flavoursome ball of your own, private and unique blend of chocolate.

Guess which bundle is Jane’s and which is mine….

Obviously the hand-ground paste we were using was much coarser and the process much simplified over their actual manufacture, but the principles are the same.

The whole process was accompanied by much laughter to leaven the serious messages about quality of raw materials and of processing to produce something very fine.  The Nortico products are not available in your average shop; maybe a gourmet market in Costa Rica might stock their product and possibly a restaurant or two.  Aldo gave us an opportunity to buy some, obvs,

and so we did, including some nibs, which will go very nicely on the breakfast muesli.

The whole session was massively educational, very thought-provoking and hugely enjoyable, It’s a joy to see someone in action with such a passion and an ability to communicate it.  We left with several bars of chocolate and brains spinning with the enormous amount of information that Aldo had tried to inject into them.

It was time to get back on the road, for a short drive to our final destination – Casa Hacienda La Esperanza in Aquiares, where we stay for a couple of nights.  The Hacienda is a refurbished farmhouse originally over 100 years old, and is a lovely place

with a fine garden

and a terrace where we took coffee, as prepared and dispensed in a very pleasing manner.

Note the lovely coffee pot in the foreground

Our room is, engagingly, called Toucan.

We had a fine dinner – tuna steak with vegetables and yuca – before settling in for the night.

The morrow offers the prospect of an education experience similar to today’s in that I suspect that we’ll learn huge amounts about a product which is a great deal more complex and nuanced than we could have possibly expected.  So come back soon and find out more, eh?