I am sad, sad I am.
I have never spent New Years at the waterfront before; have never spent New Years at Taste before.
And you know I love Taste.
Last year I grizzled about New Year’s at Prosser’s. This year we paid our forty bucks per person for our table at Taste, hoping for something special. In the daytime, to me, Taste is a little slice of heaven. You take yourself down, you find a seat or two, you hunt for food and wine, and you while the hours away.
It was raining, but we were in the right spirit. We arrived at Taste in a party mood. Until we found our $40-ish seats. We had booked outdoor seats. Foolishly we assumed the organisers had followed the same weather reports that I had been reading all week. Sun umbrellas covered tables along the waterfront side of the outdoor “apron”. Nothing protected tables along the wall-side. Guess where our table was.
Empty wet tables and chairs outside, ridiculous over-crowding inside. This was my only bad Taste experience ever, and along with many others I’d paid an entry fee for the privilege. How hard is it to hang up a few Bunnings shade cloths to protect local, interstate, and foreign visitors to Tasmania’s pride of the season? Inside we huddled like frightened little sheep inside that vast great shed, smelling like wet blankets.
Thanks Hobart Summer Festival organisers. Our guests were left bemused about where they hell they’d ended up on New Year’s Eve. I was left fuming at having been let down and embarrassed.
Class act. Good on ya. Learnt my lesson, won’t bother with Taste on New Year’s ever again.