Australian wine starts with a suitcase of cuttings. In the early 1830s James Busby brought back a collection of several hundred vine varieties gathered in France and Spain, and duplicates were planted at Kirkton in the Hunter Valley, where vines had already gone into the ground in the 1820s. What happened next was luck as much as skill. South Australia's quarantine rules kept out phylloxera, the root-feeding aphid that destroyed Europe's vineyards in the late 1800s. So some Australian vines planted in the nineteenth century are still alive, still growing on their own roots. The Barossa has Shiraz dating back to 1843.
The country is enormous, and its wine regions, formally mapped as Geographical Indications since 1993, cover an equally enormous range of climate. A warm Barossa valley floor and a cool, high Yarra hillside are both Australia, and they make completely different wine. Australia has also been willing to break with tradition. In 2000 a group of Clare Valley producers switched their Riesling to screwcap because they were tired of cork taint ruining bottles they had worked years on. Much of the wine world followed.
What Australian wine tastes like
There is no single Australian flavour, but there is a common thread: the fruit is ripe and clearly drawn, and the wines rarely hide what they are.
Barossa Shiraz is the loudest example. It is full-bodied and dark, all plum and blackberry, with a warm sweetness of fruit rather than sugar and often a note of chocolate or liquorice from oak. McLaren Vale Shiraz is similar but usually a shade more savoury. Grenache from old bush vines in both regions goes the other way: lighter, perfumed, raspberry and dried herbs over soft tannin.
The whites are the counterweight. Clare Valley Riesling is bone dry and taut, driven by lime and lemon zest. Hunter Valley Semillon is picked early, so it arrives at around 10 to 11 per cent alcohol, lean and lemony, then turns toasty and honeyed after a decade in bottle without ever having touched an oak barrel.






