Personality – it’s part of a wine’s soul, a major part of its attraction; without it, there’s little more than the mediocrity I’ve deplored elsewhere.

There’s no one single source of personality; origin plays a role, not only in how the grape responds to particular climatic or soil conditions, as important as they are, but also how the people behind the wine assist in reflecting that origin. Take, for instance, the Swartland; its wines are, as I’ve written previously, full of flavour and generous, plenty of soul too – wines of great quality without pretension. Such characteristics are mirrored in the Swartland’s  delightfully rural area, its modest farm buildings surrounded as often by wheat as by vines and little evidence of the fancy cellars and imposing entrances found in some places; the sort of person who chooses to live and produce wine there is down to earth and natural, so completes the happy circle.

Such symbiotic relationship is an added attraction for consumers, one that they can probably relate too more than the arcane concept of terroir.

At a more detailed level, I find wines fermented with only the yeasts found on the grapes are often more subtle, complex and interesting than when inoculated with yeast that emphasises particular characteristics of the variety involved. Of course, choice of yeast has to do with more than just flavour but it certainly can enhance or dim personality.

There are many other factors that play a role but one that receives little, if any attention, concerns vintage. Thinking on this goes either, `Cape summers are reliable, there’s no difference from one year to the next,’ or `Even years good, odd years bad.’ (or vice versa). Apart from the fact that it’s not only the first three months of the year that determine the quality or quantity of the wine, the reliability of Cape summers, thankfully doesn’t mean monotonous similarity in the wines.

If ever a vintage wasn’t determined by the period January to March, it was 2002. For some this will still be a horribly clear memory, starting with spring, when winter forgot to turn off the tap. Downy mildew raced through the vineyards, much quicker than winemakers could – or would; then after a hot, hot summer, winter had the audacity to return before those poor, old virused cabernet vines could anywhere near ripen. A write-off vintage then? Not for everyone, nor for all wines.

The other evening I dipped into a precious bottle of my tiny cache of André van Rensburg’s Vergelegen White 2002. This was only the second vintage of his flagship semillon/sauvignon blend and reversed the partnership from the maiden 01’s sauvignon/semillon mix. I remember at the time André was very positive about the semillon in particular; my goodness, how right he was. It is all waxy honeycomb with whiffs of mushroom (botrytis?) – gorgeously rich and broad, sauvignon infusing the palate with the necessary focus, freshness and balance. Clocking in at 15% alcohol, it needs food to be best appreciated, but I have no doubt it will reach its tenth birthday in fine form.

The expression of the 2002 vintage is clearly stamped in this wine. Although semillon remains the dominant partner in subsequent vintages, none is quite the same as that 2002.

Latest and encouraging news from the UK, suggests that South African wines are becoming more interesting and individual.  WOSA CEO, Su Birch announced this week that sales of wines retailing for over £10 have increased by 43%. Anyone paying that sort of price will not be looking for a wine that’s run of the mill.

As winemakers start to focus on the 2010 vintage, let’s hope it will be a year replete with wines brimming with character.