Durban, the sweaty sticky place of my birth. Salty, thick air, slops, shorts, bananas and spice. If Capetonians are laid-back, it is because they’re stoned. In Durban people are simply mellow. It’s built in, climatic.  It takes longer to walk through the weighty, humid air. As I was buffeted by this wall of jungle breath, and a filmy layer of sweat – that would remain with me for the next 10 days – formed, I wondered what wines would suit such a climate. And, more importantly, where could I get them?

I thought I would use a method I was recently shown to make menu choices at restaurants. When staring at a menu, confused as to which dish to order, close your eyes, let a little saliva develop and imagine the various options in your mouth. The one that excites the imagination is the one to order. It works. So, obviously, I tried it with wine.

As my imagination can get, well, slightly carried away, I did receive some odd looks as I stood in the aisles of wine shops, my eyes closed swishing non-existent wine in my mouth. It works, try it. Anyway, here are the three stores I visited, and an experience that made me remember why drinking wine gets even more awesome when the company and surrounds win harder than Charlie Sheen and a tumbler of Tiger Blood.

The Midlands. One meanders in this part of the world. So, as one does, myself and a friend meandered out to a clothing store in Mooi River where garments are sold by weight. Nothing like getting a kilo of shorts to start your day. Shopping in this manner can be a tiring experience, so sustenance was called for. Just down the road lies The Wine Cellar. This was my favourite of all the wine shops. Opened in 1997 it has a broad selection of South African wines offering something interesting at all price-points. There are a couple international wines, but nothing too exciting. What won it for me were the bargains you could find in older wines.

I hunted around and came out with a bottle of Vergelegen Semillon 2004. It was only R140 and had been perfectly cellared. The bargain here is not merely the price, but that it is still available. I drank it that night at dinner and it was superb: green notes lingered, but mixed with honey, nuts, and burnt orange peel. The acidity was tight, and gave the wine excellent structure. Oak influence had slipped to a mere murmour of vanilla that mingled adroitly with the fruit and tertiary flavours. This is why you age wines. Beautiful.

I’m not sure if I was simply in the mood after having hunted around for second hand clothes earlier, but I loved that this shop offers something to those who are willing to have a good rustle around. You can come up with some real gems that are covered in dust, seemingly forgotton about since their arrival at the shop years earlier. I yearn for more shops like this. Shops where you can find something magical, hid from you only by time, dust and ignorance.

I also picked up a bottle of Quoin Rock MCC, and my friend a bottle of Protea Chenin Blanc. These two wines proved to be the most memorable of the holiday.

What! I hear you crying. The unassuming little Protea Chenin more memorable than the grand and historic Vergelegen Semillon? How can wine that has spent the last 8 years slowly maturing, waiting for me be less memorable than one that so young it makes me look paedophilic? Yes indeed, the protea was more memroable. Did I mention it was warm?

OK, pick yourself up from the floor. No, I’m not trying to prove I’m not a wine snob. But I will explain how this happened. How beautifully subjective our wine experiences are. How outside factors colour our tastes. How they can elevate the mundane to the sublime.

We took our bottle of bubbly, chenin, some cheese (quirkily named “Kwaito”) and set out to find a river. I would like to say we hiked over hill and dale and found an idyllic spot, but the truth is we parked, and clambered over fence and gate, snuck past a house down to the bottom of someone’s garden where we found the river. It was still idyllic.

The river wound around a corner, placid and slick, before skipping and jumping down rocks that stretched from bank to bank. This mini rapid was on two levels, so that between the two there is a deeper section that creates a natural sort of jacuzzi.

Scampering across the rocks with bubbly under one arm and a cigarette dangling from the lower lip, we quickly found ourselves necking the Quoin Rock MCC straight from the bottle as the river Mooi flowed around us. Feeling rather pleased with myself – believing that we were winning in the awesome-things-to-do-on-holiday-competition – I may have attempted a fist-pump. Losing my balance I slipped back and found that I had topped up the bottle with some waters of the Mooi.

So there we were, I slightly miffed at the creation of Cuvee Mooi River, my friend laughing at me, and then I thought, well, sod it and we carried on drinking. It was still fizzy, it was still great, just perhaps a bit earthy. Actually, if anything drinking the second version was better. Why? Because it’s silly, because drinking a R150 bottle of bubbly half-filled with river water in the same river, is a special kind of fun, because it shouldn’t’t taste good but it did, because circumstance trumped the wine, the circumstance made the wine.

It was similar with the Chenin. Though it avoided being blended with the waters of the Mooi, it was rather warm as I’d made the rookie error of not submerging it in the river as soon as we arrived. (This is a solid tip to all young men who flounce around the country looking to drink wine in rivers.) Nonetheless, it cooled down a little and we too sipped this happily from the bottle as a thunderstorm built in the distance, and cows grazed by the side of the river.

Without pretension, glassware, decanters. No swirling or spitting. No bullshit (except for that which I stepped on later), just simple, pure, wine drinking. The point is, who you drink your wine with, where you drink it, and the attitude you hold as you drink makes a difference. With this in mind I can say I found Durban a great place to drink wine.

It really felt that people in Durban just wanted to a have a lekker dop, while appreciating fine wine. I was speaking to a top chef recently who had just been on a trip to Durban and he expressed a similar thought. There is genuine enjoyment without pretense. Which is refreshing, and thank god something is in that climate.

Sure the wine lists need a lot of work, they are limited, sometimes over priced, and mostly boring (the ones that I saw at least) – but saying that I think the wine farms need to work harder. Maybe they can look to Iona – the producer of masterful Elgin Sauvignon Blanc – who is killing it in Durban, with their second label, Sophie Te’blanche being on nearly every wine list I saw. But I digress, back to the other two wine shops.

Marriot Gardens Wine Cellar in Davenport had, again, a top selection of SA wines, some interesting ones but not very many older vintages. There are also a small selection of international wines. The prices are fair – although I found The Wine Cellar in Mooi river around R5-10 cheaper per bottle. I picked up a 2007 Markus Molitor Zeltinger Sonnenuhr Riesling Kabinett that was fresh, floral and delicious, but a shade short on acidity for me. I also got a bottle of 2002 Syrah Mouvedre Viognier from Fairview that was very tired and quite past its best. If you are looking for beers it also carries the &Union range as well.

A little further up the coast we find Buxton’s La Cave Liquors. This place had probably the broadest range of local wines of the three shops, but again lacked in the older vintage department. The service here was outstanding, with the staff quickly gauging my level of interest in wine and easily slipping into a conversation about wine in general. They unfortunately were out of Mullineux Syrah – my main reason of being there – but I did get a bottle of David Niewoudt’s Ghost Corner Sauvignon Blanc 2011. This is a brilliant wine, I put it up against the Ataraxia 2010 Sauvignon Blanc at one of the many Christmas dinners. They both showed their place well, but the sheer precision and angular nature of the Ghost Corner made it a win for me. I could imagine becoming a regular there easily. Not that I would be there a lot, but the staff would remember you and treat you as one. That’s important. And they nail it at Buxtons.

So what’s the best wine for Durban? I’d slice through the steamy tropical days with cold bubby, rivers, and an attitude that flips humidity the bird, sabrages with a banana, and is always one step away from a bunny-chow. Durban is awesome because it patently doesn’t take things too seriously. And with wine, when you forget that, you’re in trouble.