I love traveling—exploring new places, cultures, cuisines, and yes, wine.  Getting there however, is another story.  I pretty much hate flying.  There are several reasons for this, not the least of which is the airport experience.  There are thousands upon thousands of people stressed out and usually in a hurry.  Add to this the debacle that is the TSA, and I am at my limit before I even step on the plane.  This time the security line is at least 200 people long, there is only one scanner in operation and there are about 12 ‘agents’ doing absolutely nothing.  Perfect.  We did arrive about two and a half hours before the flight, so we have plenty of time before the flight, but still, I do not know of anyone who likes waiting in line.  The whole disrobing thing I do not see as an indignity as much as I see it as a stupidity.  I’m just hoping for someone to trip over their pants and take out the metal detector–I am also hoping that someone will not be me.  This time I actually remembered to not have a corkscrew on me, since I have had at least a half dozen of those confiscated (if there is someone out there that is able to take over a plane with a corkscrew as a weapon, the world is really in trouble).  As usual, my wife gets stopped for additional screening.  This happens at least two thirds of the time she gets on a plane.  Her she is, a pretty respected pediatrician, her two kids and irritated husband with her, but she gets stopped for the umpteenth time.  It has even moved beyond comical at this point.  Since both of my wife’s parents are Korean (my wife was born in Colorado), I figure the TSA must fear some sort of North Korean attack and have brainwashed all the American born, mothers of two, pediatricians who don’t speak a word of Korean.  But that’s just a guess.

One of the more positive recent changes in air travel, however, is the appearance of more and more wine bars in airports.  For the most part, they charge an arm and a leg for a glass of critter wine, but that is at least marginally better than going to a TGIF and getting a deep fried blooming something and a Bud Light.  Philadelphia has a couple such wine bars in the airport and our gate was right near one of them.  Our friends were on the same flight, so we popped into the bar for a quick glass or two of wine before being packed into the human petri dish.  I was happy to see that this spot had a wine that I knew: Trefethen Chardonnay.  After Cosentino, I have probably purchased more wine from Trefethen than most US wineries (although Skewis, Clos Pepe, Siduri and Argyle are closing fast).  I had to sacrifice a semester of college for one of my children to pay for the glass of wine, but what the heck, I’m on vacation.

Getting on to the plane, I was confronted with the main reason I hate air travel.  I am 6’4” and I figure at best, planes are made so that only someone 4’6” can be comfortable.  The only spots on the plane where I can even hope to find a bit of space are the exit rows.  These, however, without fail are occupied by those 4’6” folks that can actually survive in the normal seats.  If you are one of those people, just know that every time someone my size passes you in the exit row, we are cursing your name, wishing we had a corkscrew on us so that we could really mess you up.

2009 Trefethen Double T Chardonnay: Retail ~$12 a bottle.  I paid $15 a glass. Sure, I overpaid for this wine, but it was great to see it on the wine list.  On the nose it took me back to my visits to their tasting room with Julie, their delightful tasting room server. It also had grapefruit, lemon and a hint of grassyness.  On the palate it was a bit thin, but carried the citrus all the way through.  The finish, as well, was a bit underwhelming, but the wine was a perfect fit to allow me to reflect a bit on the past while getting excited about the immediate future.  Good to Very Good. 86 points.

The saga continues: Part Trois