An Unexpected Lesson in Wine Confidence

In 1991, while teaching in Prague, I traveled to visit a college friend who had married a Cypriot and was living in Nicosia. Getting there was its own epic.

Still very new to international travel, I set off alone with a giant duffel bag (this was pre–roller luggage) on a week-long journey that began with a bus ride to Vienna and then a long train ride through a Yugoslavia, that was actively falling apart. Slovenia. Croatia. Serbia. Macedonia. Sleepless nights. Guarding my bag. Not eating much because I didn’t quite know how to buy food on the train. (Mom, don't read this part!)

Eventually, I made it to Greece. From there, I got myself to Piraeus on the coast and boarded a ferry to Cyprus. Here’s what I did not understand when I bought my cheap ticket: three days at sea got me… a chair on the deck. Not a cabin. Not a bunk. A chair.

On a confidence-building journey (with a quick visit to the Acropolis) - Athens 1991

I hadn’t showered properly in days. I was exhausted and had mere pennies. I decided to treat myself to a proper meal in the dining room — likely my only full meal of the entire trip. I didn’t realize, though, that “deck people” were not allowed in the dining room. Only cabin passengers.

But there I was. A slightly road-worn American young lady, trying to look respectable, and as if I belonged there.

A Canadian couple — the husband had been working for the United Nations in the Middle East — were traveling to Cyprus the long way around because of the war in Kuwait, and they took pity on me. They paid for my meal. They invited me to their cabin. They let me shower.

(It really was much more innocent than it sounds in writing this! 😂)

And then, as tends to happen in my life, a bottle of wine appeared. 🍷

I was still very much a wine novice. The wife poured red wine into three glasses and continued telling stories of their adventures. I took a sip.

Holy cow.

It was TERRIBLE!

I didn’t know anything about cork taint or oxidation. I couldn’t have articulated what was wrong. I just knew I didn’t like it. But I felt it would be impolite to say so. So I silently committed to drinking it.

A few minutes later, she paused mid-sentence, finally took a sip of her own, and promptly spat her wine across the room.

“This is horrible!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Me: “Ummm… I don’t know?”

She grabbed my glass, poured it out, and opened another bottle.

I wrote previously about my wine "aha moment." Here on the boat to Cyprus was my first lesson in wine confidence.

I may not have had the vocabulary. I certainly didn’t understand the chemistry then. But I was starting to learn what I liked, and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t it.

Wine is wonderfully diverse. There are thousands of expressions, styles, regions, and personalities in a bottle. Part of the adventure is trying new things. But another part of the adventure is trusting your palate.

There is zero shame in loving Two Buck Chuck. There is no moral superiority in preferring a $150 bottle. And if that expensive bottle tastes off? Comment. Send it back. Your experience matters.

Wine is not a test you have to pass.

At Skyhaven, we want you to explore freely. Come taste in a judgment-free zone. Ask questions. Have an opinion. We LOVE to talk about wine journies of discovery here!

We believe the best wine adventures don’t come from pretending to like something. They come from discovering what you truly do.

Cheers!

⚔️🍷