Chris Mullineux leaves to work a harvest in the south of France

It’s deep, dark winter here in Tulbagh. Although the days are finally getting longer, early morning work still starts in the cold of dark. As our farm lies against the Witzenberg Mountain range, the sun only rises over its peaks at 10am, and dips over the western horizon as the work-day ends. We’ve had some snow on the Winterhoek Mountains these past few weeks, so it’s doubly cold at the moment, and this winter’s solid rains mean it’s muddy and wet.

Now don’t get me wrong here; I’m not complaining. The cold and rain have made it a perfect winter. The vines have been in a deep dormancy (that is, they’ve had a long, deep sleep!), and the good rains will leave adequate water reserves between the bedding planes of our shale and saprolite sub-soils for the vines deeper roots this summer.

But I’m not a vine, and I can’t stand it any longer. Cold and rain might be good for vines at this time, but I know that in the Northern Hemisphere it’s summer, and human beings are basking in the warm sun.  

I think particularly of the lucky souls in the Mediterranean, spending those long warm days, and equally warm starlit nights next to the tranquil sea. I picture the dramatic mountains, the picture-perfect villages, the food, and naturally the wine. In fact it’s far too much for me to shiver and think about as I clean the mud off my boots, so in a few hours I’m heading off to spend a couple of months next to the Med, doing a harvest in the South of France.

Mediterranean model

Working a foreign harvest is very popular amongst young winemakers. Pretty much every winery on the planet takes on a helper or two during this busy time, and it’s a great way to see the world, meet people, and build an impressive wine-related CV. How many local winemakers have done harvests at famous châteaux such as Margaux and Angélus in Bordeaux, or fancy Burgundian domaines like Jacques Prieur or Jayer Gilles? It’s many, I can assure you, and many, many more have done harvests in top-notch cellars in the other great winemaking regions of the world.

This trend is helping drive up quality in Cape wines, but though I love to visit and taste the great wines of Bordeaux and, especially, Burgundy, and as much as I’m fascinated by the wines of Alsace and Germany, I don’t think a South African winemaker can learn as much that is relevant, or have as good a time working in one of these continental regions as one can in the hospitable Mediterranean south.

The great German and Alsatian wines are phenomenal to drink, but what good is it to learn how to achieve their mind blowing acid/sugar balance, when we don’t get the same acids from our vineyards in the Cape? There is no doubt that Burgundian reds are the most fascinating and terroir-expressive wines on the planet, but (unless you’re seriously in denial) there’s little use trying to learn to work with pinot so you can replicate a Musigny or Echezeaux in South Africa.

Mediterranean wines, on the other hand, have a lot in common with those of the Cape. Our climates are almost identical. Both regions have many different soil types and aspects, providing a multitude of different terroirs within regions. We both have been in a period of relative vinous isolation where, for the most part, production was lead by big co-operatives, and large volumes of poor wine were produced using dated equipment and techniques. Importantly though, there are areas within the Mediterranean (as in the Cape), that for the last 20 years have been waking up and starting to produce good wine; and there are individual producers within certain regions who are producing phenomenal wine.

It is from these winegrowers that our youngsters should be learning.

It’s also a great place to experience foreign culture, and spend your free time. The warmth of the South, and peasant-like nature of the people make them a lot more down to earth than the cold, secretive elite of the Médoc, for example. The Southern French (as are the Mediterranean Spanish and Italian) are warm and welcoming, taking you into their simple but comfortable homes, and sharing their love and knowledge of wine as freely as their love of life. It’s a region where not only your winemaking skills are enriched.

I'll do my best to find the time, between harvesting and exploring, to keep you posted on how it’s going!