An Evening at Bosman Hermanus

A birthday, a long table, and a place we keep returning to

Christopher planned everything.

All I knew was that we were going away for the night - and that there was something to dress for.

We drove past Somerset West, into Elgin, and then further still.

When the road began to feel familiar, I had a feeling.

Hermanus.

And then I saw it - Bosman Vineyards in Hermanus, set in the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley.

We had been there before. More than once.

And I was genuinely excited to be back.

It was their annual Sunset Soirée.

We were welcomed with a glass of pét-nat, poured by Bosman's Head of Wine, Corlea Fourie, who joined the Bosman Family back in 2007.

This was our first sip.

A méthode ancestrale Chenin Blanc, naturally fermented, light, and precise. The kind of wine that quietly sets the tone.

We moved into the fynbos.

The tasting unfolded across a series of stations, each hosted by a sommelier. No fixed order - you moved as you liked, returning to wines, lingering where it felt right.

Canapés moved through the space.

Squid parcels. Braai broodjies with curry chutney. Ceviche in lettuce wraps - fresh, bright, clean.

We stood, walked, tasted.

We stepped slightly away from the crowd.

Christopher wrapped his arms around me as we looked out over the landscape.

A glass in hand. The light still high.

Two wines stayed with me. The Optenhorst Chenin - from one of the oldest Chenin vineyards in the country -carried stone fruit, citrus and a quiet almond note, but it was the texture that stood out: structured, restrained.

The Upper Hemel-en-Aarde Pinot Noir was the standout of the evening, tart raspberry, a fine line of acidity, and a stony minerality that carried through the finish.

As the light began to soften, the crowd slowly gathered.

Corlea spoke first, followed by Petrus Bosman.

It was simple. Personal. A reflection of the evening itself.

And then, unexpectedly, my birthday.

I was called up and handed a bouquet of proteas.

A small moment - but one I won’t forget.

Dinner was served family-style.

Sirloin, cooked medium rare.

Fire-roasted baby carrots.

Burrata with basil pesto and tomatoes.

Fresh farm bread.

Dessert followed - crème brûlée.

Long tables beneath the trees.

Candles, glassware, and the last of the light stretching across the mountains.

A mix of locals, industry, and familiar accents from abroad. Conversation came easily.

We’ve been to Bosman Hermanus more than once. And I know we’ll be back again.