Taking place at the uber-luxe Meadowood resort, The Symposium is a down-to-earth gathering of accomplished and aspiring wine, food, and travel writers in a setting only accomplished captains of industry can normally afford. What's special about this conference (besides the copious quantities of Napa's best wines flowing at every incredible meal and the four star accommodations) is the congenial atmosphere. It's a small affair where the super-approachable faculty and attendees more than just rub elbows - there's a real spirit of helping one another here. Budding friendships and lasting contacts are nourished over postprandial library wines. And by the end of the week you'll have had enough wine to turn you into a beer drinker for the following month.
The registration fee of $575 not only gets you in for all the sessions and a one-on-one coaching session with a seasoned editor, but covers most of the food and wine, too! To boot, there are fellowship opportunities that cover the registration fee and lodging! But don't hesitate as they are due at the end of the week.
I wholeheartedly recommend this program to anyone with even an inkling of a desire to explore this business. If that's not enough encouragement, check out what I wrote after attending the Symposium in 2010:
________________________________________________________________________________
It Only Costs A Little Extra To Go First Class
A
colleague of mine makes pilgrimages to the world's finest golf resorts;
Bandon Dunes, Pebble Beach, Olympia Fields, and others. These places
are opulent, luxurious, and beyond the reach of many. He explains these
extravagances away with the phrase, "It only costs a little extra to go first class."
My
colleague doesn't limit his use of this mindset in justifying golf
trips- no, no. It's used to rationalize nearly any tempting luxury: a
guys' gambling weekend at the Ritz Carlton San Juan, a three bottle
lunch at Per Se, even flying first class to get to these places. While
my miserly (and jealous) tsk-tsk-ing might cast him as reprehensibly
self-indulgent and occasionally irresponsible, this mindset was
precisely what overcame me the moment I first entered the Meadowood
resort.
Traffic jams and sharp elbows in route 29 tasting rooms are an unfortunate price of fame in Napa. The crowds and chaos pile tension and distraction on to what, for most, is supposed to be a relaxing vacation. But safe harbor is not far from the chauffeur-driven pursuit of gastronomic hedonism.
Past the discrete guard shack, the heavily forested driveway meanders towards the resort compound, sunlight percolating through tall conifers in a soft, polite filter. Broad leafed deciduous trees with muscular, moss-stained branches and arthritic roots buckle the driveways. Ivies, deep green and thick, curtain tennis court fences. Flowering vines casually canopy entryways and the narrow passages that thread between buildings. Nature hasn’t quite taken over as much as accepted the resort as its guest.
Even the wildlife seems to be working hard to complete the peaceful scene; the wild turkey are only ever heard faintly in the distance and the deer keep an appropriate distance. After a while you wonder if the animals haven’t attended staff etiquette training. Sure, there is a civility here that is too perfect not to be deliberate, yet it is so naturally draped over the geography that it's felt, more than seen, as a welling calm. Nothing at all feels contrived in this setting which feels closer to Yellowstone than Greystone. There's something abstract about this place that you can't pay for at other resorts; a sense of well being.
All
of these resources share a casual, but inexorable, tranquil unity with
their setting in nature, and the docile presence of overwhelming, not
overbearing, services. There's a tennis pro, a golf pro, a spa
coordinator, and a wine pro. Wine pro? Yes, this is Napa Valley,
after all, and the wine pro could be Meadowood’s most differentiating
asset. Master Sommelier Gilles de Chambure, looking every bit the part,
is an ascot-wearing Frenchman. Only laying eyes on him might lead
you to the hasty conclusion that Meadowood has hired, aspiringly, to
project its target clientele. But even the briefest of conversations
with the charming and utterly affable Monsieur de Chaumbure will
disabuse you of any such notion. Among the most educated wine-soaked
souls on the planet, Gilles is as unpretentious as they come. He engages
on the subject with curiosity and humility. Without hesitation or trace
of self-consciousness, he refers to his handy pocket wine encyclopedia
when talk turns to the esoteric. Even for someone steeped in the
intricacies of California wine, an afternoon with Meadowood's Director
of Wine Education promises to be a journey of discovery and fun. Forget
tennis or golf, there's more sport to be had in drinking and learning with Gilles.
Whatever
activities occupy your days, the guest rooms provide quiet refuge to
regroup before dinner and for restful nights. Cozy and spacious, they
combine a casual country style with refined comfort. Wood-burning
fireplaces are set every evening in anticipation of warming the cool
night air in romantic fashion. Fair warning: a fire burning in
your room here ranks right up there on the romance scale with Santorini
sunsets and languid evening strolls in Paris. Coming here alone is as
frustrating as it is lonely.
In
concept and location, Meadowood is the ideal base from which to explore
Napa Valley. In practice, however, the attractions beyond the guard
shack seem less and less alluring as you settle in to this sanctuary. It is, above all, a difficult place to leave.
So,
does it only cost a little extra to go first class in Napa Valley?
Let’s just say that Meadowood isn’t for those timid with their platinum
cards – studio rooms here start at $575 nightly. But for those with the
resources – or temerity – and an appetite for the very best, Meadwood belongs at the top of your list.


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