Way back in autumn, when the leaves were a gorgeous motley of earth and fire, our friends took us for a day trip through McLaren Vale, the famous wine district an hour out of Adelaide. It’s a fairly compact region, hilly and twisty and bedevilled with lycra-clad cyclists, but if you’ve got the patience and the reflexes, it’s definitely worth a trundle.
Naturally, the key ports of call are the wineries, and each of the ones we visited managed to offer its own individual appeal. I found that the shiraz by-and-large didn’t have quite the kick of the Barossa wineries, farther north, but still managed to give the luggage restrictions a test on the flight home. I’m sure the security dudes are used to the clanking of bottles in carry-on.
Wirra Wirra is a big’un — so big it has its own trebuchet and a handy look-out over the nearby grape vines. Its landmarks include a bush sculpture of giant cricket stumps, and a massive rough-hewn redgum fence known as Woodhenge marking the property’s entrance. It is the home of one of my favourite tipples, Church Block. Pilgrimage is too strong a word when the drop is available from every bottle-o, but we took our communion anyway.
The religious theme continued at Chapel Hill, where the cellar door occupies a former church that also houses an art gallery. Pews are available for those wanting to sit while taking in the works. The building is gorgeous, an ironstone church dating to 1865: it preaches shiraz and chardonnay with outreach to pinot grigio and sangiovese, amongst others, and has a truly tempting The Devil tawny port.
Serafino was a bit of a disappointment, actually; the staffer was busy doing the books or her nails or something, and the wine just didn’t grab us. Love the stained glass door, though, and, outside, there was a gorgeous lake and oodles of galahs and water birds, including hungry geese and ducks: more than enough to hassle the few picnickers making the most of the spring sunshine.
Coriole’s cellar door is based around stone farmhouses dating to the 1860s, is surrounded by flower beds and terraced gardens and affords a fine view across vine-covered hills. When we dropped in, it had a wee fridge of olive oil, vinegar and cheese. It describes itself as a fattoria: “A vineyard and winery where other food products may be grown and produced.”
This is the historically inaccurate Red Baron wine-barrel Fokker at Fox Creek, probably our favourite stop on the road trip. It operates from a stone cottage best described as intimate and offers some of the best shiraz we tasted. The smallish rooms are set up for lounging while enjoying art exhibitions, and the staff were amongst the friendliest and most welcoming we encountered. The grounds are littered with sculptures. The pictured Fokker gives its Red Baron name to one drop; Vixen, an easy-drinking red, is among the vineyard’s most popular offerings, while Shadow’s Run is named after the owners’ late dog and is a perfect summer quaffer. The Short Row shiraz shows that Fox Creek has depth past the barbecue; we have a bottle earmarked for a special occasion next year.
This is our unofficial wine guide and good friend, Natalie Potts. She not only knows her way around McLaren Vale, armed with a trusty map marked with helpful red crosses and underlined SHIRAZ in full caps by her parents, but she writes stories, too. If you click on the picture, you can read more about her yarns, some of which are available on Smashwords. If you click on the other pictures, you’ll find more pictures of McLaren Vale at my Flickr site.
It’s worth noting that Adelaide Writers Week is on next year, in March. I did mention that McLaren Vale is only an hour’s drive from Adelaide, didn’t I? Good-o.