Lessons learned? Go with the local (beverage) culture, definitely pack lightly and if you really, REALLY want to take some wine, take one bottle, not four. But as they say in Brazil, TUDO BEM
Okay, I will admit that there are times when wine just won’t fit the bill and can not even be vaguely tempting. There is nothing wrong with the concept of it but it just doesn’t jive with the moment nor the place. It is like eating ice cream on a snowy mid-January afternoon on a bench in New York’s Central Park; while you could (in theory), it doesn’t quite work and most importantly, the enjoyment derived is simply not the same.
My husband and I recently experienced this unusual phenomenon on our honeymoon in Northeast Brazil. If you will, back up to two weeks ago; to exactly 2 hours prior to departure. Amid suitcases, I was in a tizzy upon realizing that we wouldn’t have some ”acceptable” wine to drink while on our honeymoon; especially having spent time in Brazil and knowing that wine tends to be (overall) of the mediocre level and quite pricey due to a 100% tax mark-up (exception: best restaurants and wine shops in Sao Paulo have outstanding selections).
So I bubble-wrapped two bottles of bubbly (Chandon’s delicious Baron B Unique 2001 from Mendoza and Veuve Cliquot) and two reds (Almaviva’s EPU 2001 from Maipo, Chile and O. Fournier’s Alfa Spiga a gorgeous Tempranillo from the Ribera del Duero, Spain) and put them in our carry-on (liquids ban mostly lifted on most South American flights, FYI). Okay, we can go now. We are armed (with wine).
Upon landing in Fortaleza in Northeast Brazil and proceeding to our first destination, Jericoacoara, in addition to the pristine beaches and sugar-white sand dunes, we hit a wall of heat and humidity that would remain constant through our final destination of Sao Luis, 1,100 kilometers up the Atlantic coast. With 100% humidity and temperatures hovering around 34 C all day every day, we quickly realized that wine of any sort, even a crisp, chilled Sauvignon Blanc wouldn’t cut the midday heat. The only remedy was an ice cold beer–and may I add, beer has NEVER hit the spot like that!
At night, still sweating and wanting to samba or get down to the forró music, cairpirinhas seemed a better sipper for a lively and limey buzz. So our days went: 600ml of beer at lunch (promptly sweated out as I never got close to a buzz); and 2-3 caipirinhas at dinner. It was just too hot and humid; and it wasn’t the local culture. When in Rome…or Brazil in this case. So our wines made this epic journey through lagoons, beaches, jungles, sand dunes, 4×4s on rough (or non-existent) roads, boat excursions in Lencois Maranhenses and we looked over with a tenderness like one’s children (how would the heat effect them when we couldn’t refrigerate them? They had to go up front in the A/C, yadayadayada).
And after all that fussing, only one night did we crack open the Chandon with some totally non-Brazilian crepes, which was a delicious treat. But we never found the right moment for the champagne (after all the camaroes and peixe I had become fixated on having it with some cold water seafood, more specifically, 2 dozen tiny Chilean Pacific oysters). We never hit the reds either. So they came home with us in the suitcase and are now resting in the cav with their brother/sister wines.
