Doing the Pisco Stomp

      After the excitement of sand boarding, I needed some excitement of a different kind.  We hired a taxi to take us to a pisco factory.  We are in the grape-growing area of the country, therefore, in the distillery area also.  Pisco is the national drink, much like mescal is the drink of Oaxaca.  To make it, you begin by making wine.  Then, distill the wine, just like making bourbon.  And, just like bourbon, there are many reasons for the different tastes.

At our first stop, at a 130-year-old distillery, Bodega Vista Alegres, we saw a couple we met while sand boarding a few days ago.  They are staying at the fancier hotel in Haucachina, but have been hanging out at the bar at our hostel (because it's more fun there!).  So, with my little bit of present-tense spanish, her little bit of english, we sampled the pisco together.  She gave us some tips about local foods and we even discussed politics, as best we could!  Bodega Vista Alegres is a huge operation, with vats the size of small cities.  Impressive.  Stuart and I liked one of the samples they poured for us, so bought a small bottle.  Off to another!

The second stop was another very old business, but much smaller operation.  At El Catador, the pisco is stored in the traditional clay bottles, because they produce far less then Bodega Vista Alegres.  We liked this pisco very much!  It was smooth and a little nutty in the flavor.  After the tour, we had lunch at the El Catador restaurant.

 











The storage bottles.  El Catador produces Tony Labis pisco.  The factory is surrounded by pecan trees and corn fields.  I asked about rainfall, and learned it never rains there.  Never.  Wow.  Of course.  We are in the southern Peruvian desert.






The next day, as we lay by the pool at the hostel, a well-dressed local woman came out to ask for our "help".  This is suspicious.  Stuart, three other tourists (Danish, I think) and I , went down the street with her, inside a walled-courtyard to a dusty open area.  At the far end was a new raised area, built of stone.  On the platform was a grape stomping tank.  Our job?  To stomp grapes!  Today is the opening of a new piscoeria in Hauacachina, and we are part of the photo session for the party.  It is all about tourism, of course.  About one hundred locals are here, many with cameras.  Someone hands me a plastic cup filled with pisco.  We take off our shoes and climb in the tank  The cameras are clicking.   Now, I know how it feels to be a curiosity!  The music is happy, there is much laughter, and soon more people are in the giant tank, stomping, dancing, laughing and drinking from our bottomless cups of pisco.











I hear shouts, "La Reyna! La Reyna!".  The queen, the queen. ohmygod, there she is:  a young local woman, wearing veryshortpants, with a huge crown and banner, and her court!  Beauty Queens of the south, look out.  Our job was to stay in the stomping tank, but step back, and let the cameras capture the Queen.  Fine, just refill my cup, please.

Enough stomping, it was great fun.  I got out of the tank, and began to ask questions.  I found the woman who invited us to join, and learned she is the daugher and sister of the owners of the new piscoeria.  We met her father, a very old man, and her brother.  I also met the queen, the queen's mother and very proud grandfather.  It is a very happy day for Huacachina.  Full of promise of a few more jobs, and tourist money to be spent in this tiny oasis.

 The gates of the dusty courtyard were open, and courtyard was filling up with locals and a few tourists.  Someone cleared the way, and about 40 men dressed all in white rode in on beautiful, well-trained horses.  The National Cermonial Cavalry is about to perform!  We watched in amazement at the beautiful, fancy footwork, and cheered as proudly as the locals.  Of course, the Queen made a short circuit of the courtyard, apparently NOT a horsewoman, but keeping her smile perfect for the photos.  Her grandfather led the horse, full of pride.

 Some local women spread out delicious looking food. We ate lunch - it was delicious- squatting in the dusty shade of the big trees, wiping our hands on our clothes.  Pinching ourselves:  did we really get caught up in this great fiesta?!?  Some of the Men in White posed for me, happily sampling the drink!  Stuart and I walked back to our hostel, to nap, after too much pisco in the middle of the afternoon.  Our last day here, tomorrow, we move to Paracas.