As one matures, one concedes worthy hangovers are rare things.
There remain but a few.
Wandering towards the Hawke's Bay A&P Bayleys Wine Awards marquee on Tuesday, I noticed the limestone dust gathered on my shoes, chalking the shine from my best blacks. It was apt, given the local rock is one of the many minerals feeding our famed local berries.
A few weeks back, after a day of judging wines, the awards' chairman of judges Rod McDonald whetted the appetite when he told me his team were encouraged at "seeing the the effects of two great vintages in a row".
The awards dinner runs something like this: winning wines from each category are announced, whereupon waiting staff appear like servants from a Dionysian festival to furnish tables with the nectar of the gods.