Queue up: Drinkin’ sherry Wine by Wynonie Harris

My goodness, I had forgotten that I had packed anything other than my black hiking pants/tight combo. Today was a sunny city day, so I finally got to wear something else. I really missed my non-adventure clothes and sporty sneakers.

We had a late start time of 11:20, so Peter and I set off in search of a laundry mat. There is only so much sink laundry you can do at a time, and we had amassed a big pile of muddy clothes.

I am sure you are going to find this next part about our laundry mat experience riveting, so grab a drink and a snack and settle in. I found a self-service laundry within 10 minutes of our hotel. Skipping a large round of sink laundry was impetus enough for us to get out of bed early and set out before most of Jerez. It turns out, that doing laundry at this particular laundry mat was one of the most stressful parts of our trip. The laundry mat in Jerez was more stressful than having less than 25 minutes to catch our train after getting off the long the overnight flight and racing across town in Madrid rush hour traffic, or figuring out how to get my 30 pound backpack across Cordoba in torrential rain without soaking the interior.

Imagine if you will (well you don’t really, I have a photo of the laundry mat), three washers, one for pet laundry, and two dryers, also one for pet laundry. We had one washer, and a woman walked in with bedding and filled the other two. I didn’t realize at the time, when she stood in front of our machine that she was calculating how long of a laundry cycle she needed to finish before us and take both the dryers before we could. This, my friends, is the masters game of laundry strategy. As Peter and I anxiously watched the three machines (we were sitting across from them in hard plastic chairs, (one was duct taped from top to bottom to keep it together) we thought we just might beat her in time to get the one dryer that was designated “not for pet laundry”. But who am I kidding, people who use the laundry mat probably put whatever laundry they have in whatever machine they want.

We didn’t finish in time…but we did get the pet laundry dryer before her second load finished. I guess it wasn’t a complete loss. Peter declared himself at lunch to a table full of people “I am world class at doing the laundry”. I can’t really remember what prompted that comment, but he was dead serious and very proud. No one can fold a shirt like Peter. #lifegoals.

Our primary activity of the day focused on sherry. There is nothing like drinking 6 glasses of heavily fortified wine in the middle of the day to relieve any, and all, stress. The name sherry comes from English speakers attempts to pronounce the name Jerez. I am so feeling that right now after 2 weeks in Spain. The other night I said good evening to a waitperson. Instead of saying Buenas Noches, I said Buenos Nachos. I must be missing home more than I realize.

Back to sherry. The city we are in is Jerez de La Frontera. “De la frontera” means “of the frontier”. So, amigos we are on the frontier of sherry, in the land that produces more than 10 million gallons of this fortified wine a year. Minimum 15% alcohol content up to 40% alcohol content. And it is consumed with every course. These people an hold their alcohol.

The day started with a tour of the Tio Pepe Bodega (Bodega = Winery). This is like the Robert Mondavi of the sherry world. They literally have a cathedral of wine, that’s what they call it, I’m not making it up. It is a large cavernous room with casks named after the apostles. A massive 32 barrel cask (I think it was 32, I might have gotten a little fuzzy after inhaling all the sherry fumes during the 2-hour tour), in the middle of the lineup represents Jesus. I thought it might be considered sacrilegious to do something like this, but then I saw a rather large group of priests and nuns leave the tasting room with big smiles on their faces. So I guess they thought everything was OK.

Perhaps the most interesting part of their tour was their version of a guest book. Famous people would sign empty casks. Celebrities, kings, queens, matadors, etc. When Peter asked if he could sign a cask, the tour guide answered “are you a matador? A flamenco dancer (or in Peter’s case a flamingo dancer)?”. She shut that down pretty quick. That poor woman must get asked that question 20 times a day.

But the weirdest thing about the tour was the sherry drinking mouse. Or now mice because they all come over from the cathedral next door. A farmer for the bodega noticed a mouse drinking their highest alcohol content sherry wine. So instead of shooing the uninvited guest away, he not only set out a full glass for him, but also created a ladder to make it easier to access the elixir. This seemed to be enough for him to get to sign a cask. I’m really hoping that now, it’s just a story and a marketing gimmick, and they don’t set out a new glass of wine each day just for the wine enthusiastic rodents to drink. Although I would like to see them “walk” back to the church after.

I’m not sure if its all the excitement of the past two weeks, or the 6 glasses of wine in the middle of the day, but I decided to skip the evening activity (which I’m having serious FOMO about) and also editorial/fact checking, and make it an early night.

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