An Australian in Sonoma

“So has anyone commented on your accent yet?” my 23 year old friend from Boston, Andrew, asked me recently via a skype session.

“No, no-one,” I say. 

Andrew has somewhat of an obsession with Australians.  I met him while he was doing an internship at the company I was working with in Melbourne and despite our 15 year age difference; we bonded over Mad Men. The friendship was solidified when he introduced me to Game of Thrones and further endorsed Breaking Bad (my friend Renato had long been telling me I must watch it too).

Andrew had the typical American drawl and as a typical Aussie, I chose a nickname for him – not particularly original – I called him “Boston”.

Boston is now back in Boston, working in a great job after completing his information systems degree at Carnegie Mellon.  Thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, long distance friendships are made relatively easy these days – something called facebook?

In anycase, it’s always stuck with me that Andrew liked the way I speak.  Specifically, he liked the way I speak, because it’s with an Australian accent.

It was not until my first Saturday at Hawkes tasting room that I finally witnessed the true American amour for my accent.

Even though I’d been travelling through the States since March, people had obviously resisted commenting on it as an everyday citizen.  But working in the tasting room – it would appear I’m open game for inquiry.

“Where are you from – New Zealand or Australia?” one taster would ask. “Is that an Australian accent?” another would ponder.  “Whereabouts in Australia are you from?” was the most frequently asked, followed by “Oh, I’ve not been to Melbourne – or I’ve been to Melbourne!”

An Aussie in Sonoma is supposedly a curious thing.

Photo - me, pouring wine at Hawkes tasting room in Sonoma.