Yesterday, I had the rare opportunity to be inside a wine cask.  

Lucia's, cousin's, husband, Omar, owns a vineyard named Hacienda del Abuelo.  We travelled about an hour and a half, and down to 3,750ft, from Arequipa to Omar's hometown, Vitor.  Vitor sits in a small valley, where the lush, green farms sit in stark contrast to the tan, dry mountains surrounding it.  A small river runs though the valley which various farmers divide up to irrigate their farms.

I can't recall a day, or a single month, in my lifetime, that I have danced so much as I did yesterday.

We arrived at about 10am, with 13 members of Lucia's family.  First, we were given a tour of the vineyard.  It was pretty cool to see actual wine grapes growing, instead of just seeing them on the label of some wine bottle.  Then, we saw the casks where the wine is fermented.  This is where I got to put myself inside an actual wine cask.  This is also where the wine "sampling" started.  Sampling might not be quite the right word.  It started as sampling, and shortly thereafter, became more like guzzling.  I mean, how many chances in your lifetime do you get to guzzle wine from a traditional, hollowed out gourd, from the vineyard where it's made, personally from the owner of the vineyard, who's grandfather founded the vineyard in 1921?

After the tour, we went to the taberna(tavern) for some appetizers; choclo(Giant Corn), cheese, and bologna sandwich slices.  When the music started, even before finishing my appetizers, I was called on to the dance floor.

Dancing and wine drinking were the primary activities that consumed most of the next 8 hours that we were there.

After several hours, we were served grilled pork chops and potatoes.  Without a fork or knife, I ate them the manly, traditional way, with my hands.  Peruvians say that it tastes better that way. . .

At the end, around 6pm, we all stuffed back into the privately rented van from which we had come, and headed back to Arequipa, at 7,700ft.