Getting High Down Under

Longview vineyards, Adelaide Hills All Pics: Bhisham Mansukhani

Very few things can be as overwhelming as a South Australian wine trail. Bhisham Mansukhani writes about his romp in the New World's inarguable mecca of wine, albeit under an utterly depressing sobriety

An incessant traveller once wistfully remarked that that the joys of travel were an end in themselves and the arrival was the crestfall. It is very likely that one of his journeys may have been a wine trail, never mind the region.

So when I was handed the opportunity to scourge South Australia to imbue myself with a taste for its immense compendium of wine as part of Tasting Australia, South Australia's biannual wine and food event, I wondered how much wine I really needed to attenuate the depression that waited at the inescapable end.

South Australia's wine industry needs less of an introduction, more of a celebration. The sheer plethora of wine it produces across its six regions has earned it a stellar reputation, be it the Adelaide Hills for its Sauvignon Blanc and Viognier, the Barossa for the Chiraz, Coonawarra for its Cabernet or Riverland for its Chardonnay. South Australia houses the country's largest area of vineyards (70,132 hectares) and produced more than 680 million litres of wine in 2004 accounting for 48.8 per cent of all Australian wine. With vital statistics such as this, an argument could be par futile.

So how does one go about a wine trail? Before I put down a part memoir and dossier of South Australia's wine regions, I would like to mention that it is important on such a mission to drink as much wine as you can - do not spit it out unless you plan to take the long winding scenic route after and chat with the winemaker to understand the wine bouquet if the taste hasn't already revealed it to you. And yes, if you still have the time, do some tourism.

Coonawarra & Limestone Coast

While I was not fortunate enough to spend more than one fine evening in a region that lays default claim to the title of Australia's Bordeaux, thanks to its purple patch of red wine production, the short brush did enough to impress me.

Coonawarra is unsurprisingly the most famous of the Limestone Coast's wine regions. A mere three hours drive from Adelaide, the Coonawarra Cigar, which the slender stretch of inimitable limestone-based terra rossa soil is more famously referred to as, boasts some of Australia's finest red wines, particularly the Cabernet Sauvignon, Shiraz and Merlot. Not surprising, given its cold, wet winters and contrasting summers coupled with a protracted ripening season.

My mind dips back to a sumptuous dinner on the early days I arrived in Australia, whisked from Adelaide airport by tour operator Greg Giles to a bed and breakfast for a pit stop before heading out to Russet Ridge's cellar door. Giles did more than just serve as an ambassador for Limestone Coast Tourism. He gave me a rundown on all possible Aussie style bullshit. Russet Ridge's cellar door is essentially a rustic facility which serves a wide range of wines from Coonawarra and other Limestone regions. A generous glass of Majella Chiraz was my opportunity to initiate myself to an ever-swelling club of Australian wine lovers, not that I needed an invitation. A DiGiorgio Pinot Noir, though rare in the region, with generous frames of oak did only too well for me.

The must-stops on a quick wine raid must include Majella Wines, a prominent winery that pours one of the region's best Chiraz, Balnaves which grows not just the reliable Cabernets but also has one of the prettiest settings for wineries, nestled within rose gardens. The Riddoch Run Vineyards cannot however be overlooked for it was the unmistakable John Riddoch himself who planted the first vineyards on Coonawarra land.

Padthaway, just north of Coonawarra is another recommended stop for its Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon, which were planted back in the 1960s owing to the region's soil similarity to Bordeaux. While the region merits a visit for its wine alone, tourism needn't be restricted to the tipple. The Naracoorte Caves is recommended for those who would like to believe that no space can be too small for trekking and Mt Gambier's Blue Lake is another big draw. The Coorong National Park, another attraction, is home to thousands of migratory birds. The seaside towns are a simple delight to stop by and dine on fresh fish and pick out your lobster of choice at Kingston SE or Port MacDonnell for a meal to remember.

Adelaide Hills

View from Mount Lofty, Adelaide Hills

There is an unlikely correlation to be found in India's modest appreciation of wine and its lukewarm interest in the city of Adelaide. And that is not just because Adelaide is ensconced among some of the world's finest wine regions; it is only because of that. Not in the least, Adelaide Hills.

Adelaide Hills has a monopoly on history for being Australia's oldest wine regions as well as producing the country's first export wine, which was dispatched to no less than Queen Victoria in 1845. It has more than 50 wine producers and 26 cellar doors not to mention a cornucopia of fresh fruits, vegetables, cheese and breads.

A case of Newitson Chiraz sits in a Guger Street wine shop in Adelaide

So when I was told that Adelaide Hills was on the itinerary, I knew I was in for a feast. Now usually, I tend to get my foot in my mouth after I'm down two-thirds of a bottle but as I rubbed my hands together on the barmy morning of my outing to the eponymous region, I nearly did me in, despite being sober. The bunch of scribes attending Tasting Australia and myself were greeted by two men in casual wear and red caps in the lobby who announced that they were our escorts for the day. It was only when we were well on our way that they introduced themselves as Honi Dolling, GM of Chain of Ponds and Duncun MacGillivray, chairman of Longview Vineyard Wines, respectively. I gasped, silently thanking myself that I hadn't uttered anything out of line. Their casual banter peppered with current facts about Adelaide Hill wines, though, passed them off as the most relatable of blokes, never mind that they were all accomplished wine makers.

Adelaide Hills is short drive from the city but is surprisingly cooler and I mean that quite literally. The temperature drop is striking. That the region grows some of the continent's finest white wines and resembles, perhaps even betters, England's Lake District, makes it only more perfect.

The Pinot Noir tasting set up at Chain of Ponds, Adelaide Hills

Our first stop was the commendably restored country estate of Mt Lofty House, embellished with old-world motifs and warmth all its own and an outdoor ambience that could set the French wondering. The region's renowned winemaker Tim Knappstein proffered an insight into what made the region one of the best Sauvignon Blanc producers.

Then we went on to Hahndorf Hill Winery, which irrigates just 11 acres of vineyard and deliberately keeps the yield down to grow a deliciously concentrated wine. The winery is the only one to produce the two rare German varieties of Trollinger and Lemberger - a must try for all visitors.

At Shaw & Smith's tasting room, perched on a gentle hill in front of an immensely picturesque garden, I had to rub my eyes to believe the sight just in case the 12 Savignon I tasted so far were already doing their bit. Michael Hill Smith, acclaimed as the first Master of Wine in Australia pondered the theme of New Age Chardonnay.

My aversion to swigging and spitting out the wine was beginning to cost me and the quality and range of the Chardonnay vintages, both oaked and unoaked was putting me in a tight spot. The notables on the table included the unoaked Longview, Pike and Joyce and unmistakably Shaw & Smith. By the time I arrived at Chain of Ponds for a Pinot Noir tasting that I had been saving my sobriety for, I was at about the threshold.

Pinotphile Stephen George of Ashton Hills laid out an interesting mix of robust young, low yield and oak matured Pinots guiding us through an evolution of taste that was this elusive red wine's legacy in Adelaide Hills. Zigzagging through the scenic inner lanes of Adelaide Hills, I had to throw in the glass in the literal sense by the time we came to Petaluma's Bridgewater Mill to delve on the Shiraz and Cabernet Savignon. I, instead, strolled on to the porch to admire the restored Bridgewater Mill with its 'Big Rumbler' water wheel which first turned, back in 1860. The Petaluma specialises in premium red and white table wines as well as sparkling wines. The sparkling wine maturation cellars are the showpiece of the Petaluma winemaking empire.

Barossa

A mere mention of the Barossa evinces a breath of reverence from most novices, let alone the connoisseurs. So then, driving up to the Barossa amounts to the most basic etiquette for a wine tourist to South Australia. For me, that was all very well. But while I certainly enjoyed the drive and the scenic, windswept plains on the way, there was only one thing on my mind.

Ralf Haldzac, MD of Life Is A Cabernet, a company that organises escorted wine tours, drove me to the Barossa in a crimson Chrysler Voyager. He was also kind enough to tutor me on the history of the region's wine and the varietals to watch out for, before hand. Nothing, though, could replace the wine. Barossa stakes unchallenged claim to some of Australia's best vintages. Temperate coastal climate, gently sloped hills and a fertile soil have played their part with spontaneous loyalty. And while none of this is accident, the name actually is. It was originally named 'Barrosa' by its first surveyor Colonel William Light but it was later misspelled in maps and then adopted ad hoc as Barossa.

Barossa produces nearly 87,000 tonnes of wine annually and is home to the likes of homegrown giants like Jacob's Creek, Penfolds and Wolf Blass. Angaston is heart of Barossa's wine industry and the region holds sway over varieties like the Shiraz, Grenache, Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon Chardonnay. So my schedule was naturally quite crowded. The Barossa Valley Estate and Grant Burge held to Barossa's reputation for producing fine Shiraz and Reisling. Lunch at the Jacob's Creek visitors centre and a chat with wine promotions manager Bruce Thiele made for a delectable mix of fine Semillon Chardonnay and more of Barossa's steeped viticulturist history. Going from a post-modern winemaking behemoth which ranks as one of Australia's New World approach pioneers to one that has kept out the New World was as interesting as my trip could get. Rockford, a boutique winery uses the orthodox, old school machinery like Bagshaw crushers and old wooden basket presses. A draft of its Basket Press Chiraz is one not to be passed over in any event. Langmeil, Penfolds and Charles Melton also come plenty endorsed.

A hop off to the Whispering Wall of the Barossa Valley Dam is an interesting distraction.

The Whispering Wall is a huge curved retaining wall for the Barossa Reservoir which has a unique acoustic effect that allows sound to travel long distances - a voice at one end can be heard perfectly at the other - 100 metres away.

Oak Barrels soak up the sun at a Barossa winery	Charles Melton vineyards, Barossa
Rockford’s famed wooden basket press	A heavily autographed barrel at Ross Estate, Barossa
Oak barrels stacked at a Coonawarra winery

Mclaren Vale & Riverland

Two of the regions that yours truly didn't chance on but still has firmly on the agenda are Mclaren Vale and Riverland. Mclaren Vale homes more than 270 grape growers and thrives on Merlot and Grenache, helped by the cooling sea breezes and sunshine. Riverland, not in the least, is regarded as the backbone of the Australian wine industry, brimming with cellar doors and annual wine festivals. BRL Hardy's Banrock cellar door is a popular haunt for wine lovers. While Chardonnay is Riverland's mainstay, Verdhelo and Petit Verdot are beginning to adapt well to the indigenous soil.

It is difficult, near unfair, to be made to sum up such an intimate odyssey of flavour in a mandatory conclusion. I would much rather take off on a flourish of adulatory adjectives so as to give the impression that my experience had no factual end. In the unfortunate event of that being impermissible, I can only recollect the moment staring down on my final glass of sparkling Rose, sitting beside Haldzic as he drove his Chrysler senselessly away from the Barossa in purple dusk, with Don Henley crooning through the speakers about the imminence of some heartbreak tonight. And was he right.