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Settling into Sri Lanka

Arriving late at night is always a little discombulating. Over the years we have tried our best to arrive in daylight hours, giving us a better chance to get our bearings in a new city. Sometimes, you are at the mercy of flight schedules as was the case with our arrival into Sri Lanka.

Having had a good sleep near the airport, and a very hair raising taxi ride to Sigiriya, we could now slow down, settle into the Sri Lankan rhythm and start exploring. Sigiriya is in central Sri Lanka, north west of Colombo, in a very historic area. An area that is said to have been inhabited since prehistoric times. The main attraction is Lion’s Rock which dominates the skyline. Almost 600 feet high, this massive slab of granite has a rich cultural history. Now a UNESCO World Heritage site it is described as “one of the best preserved examples of ancient urban planning.”

Seeing Sigiriya

As you can see in other parts of the world, notably Machu Picchu in Peru, Sigiriya rock was built to be lived on. Where better place to build your fancy new palace? At the very top, of course. Away from nasty people trying to invade. In what must be one of the world’s greatest conundrums, I gaze in wonder at how they possibly managed to build a palace on top of such a high rock. A rock we would be climbing ourselves during our three days in Sigiriya.

Today was about getting our first taste of Sri Lankan food, and specifically the famed kottu. A dish that I think is specific to Sri Lanka, a kottu is a mixture of cut up roti bread, vegetables and sometimes with chicken and cheese added. The way this dish is made is very distinctive and the sounds can be heard before the delicious smells. On a large grill plate, all the ingredients are bundled together and with two large metal cleaver type utensils, the cook chops up furiously. The metallic clang clang of the utensils on the metal grill can be heard far and wide. A piece of clever marketing I would say.

The result is a delicious plate of food that can be tailored to your level of spice tolerance. It turns out we have a “Sri Lankan” tolerance, something that surprised quite a few locals. Maybe our love of spicy Indian curries has trained our palettes. Little Hut was the venue for our first foray into Sri Lankan food. A small restaurant that wasn’t much bigger than a hut. I am glad that I had eaten before using the solitary toilet. 

A kottu each and a local Lion beer and the bill was 4,290 rupees, approximately $21 AUD. Not very cheap by Asian standards and worth every penny. I think we are going to like Sri Lankan food.

Sigiriya is a small village and it didn’t take long to explore. It has the welcoming feel of a very local community and all the restaurants we passed were small and family run. Usually dad or grandad outside bringing people in, the wife in the kitchen, and kids running around. Sadly, there are way too many people opening restaurants and serving food from the kitchen of their house than there are tourists. The result is a lot of forlorn looking places and not much food being cooked.

Monday dawns in Sigiriya

Monday morning dawned rather portentously, with rain. Something we were to see a lot more of. Our first breakfast at the hotel was great visually, not so good when we started eating. Everything was served cold. As is the norm in many places we had to order our choice the day before. I didn’t realise this was so that they could make it the day before. This is what it felt like when I bit into my omelette. Cold. How about the toast? Cold. The only thing served hot was the tea. Sadly, it was going to become the rule rather than the exception for most of our time in Sri Lanka.

Dambulla and the Cave Temple Complex

With the rain being rather relentless we switched around our plans for the day. Climbing Lion’s Rock could wait until tomorrow and today we will head to Dambulla, home of some of the most well preserved and largest cave temples. In fact, it is the largest cave temple complex in Sri Lanka. The Golden Rock Temple among them is declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Being 14 kilometres from Sigiriya we ordered a taxi through the Pick Me app and were soon getting dropped off by the ticket entrance. A steep climb up and the very impressive Dambulla cave temple is revealed. We had to share the path with monkeys. Lots of monkeys. What had become obvious is that Sri Lanka is home to wild monkeys, with hotels warning that doors are always closed and shoes not left outside. I would hate to see a monkey strolling around the village in my Tevas.

Leaving our sandals at the gate, safe from curious monkeys, we got to explore the Royal Cave and its many imposing Buddha statues. The 3,000 rupee entrance fee was rather steep, more than the price of the tuk tuk home. That said, we did get “extra value” on the ride home. When the driver asked where we lived I just went into autopilot. We must get asked this question over a dozen times a day. However, when he fiddled with YouTube on his phone, whilst driving, and we suddenly had the “Australia Top 50 Charts” blasting through the tuk tuk’s speakers I worked out that the driver was on a charm offensive. Probably fishing for tips. The only tip I could offer him was not to play such loud garbage to a middle aged gentleman.

Sri Lankan curry

Lunch was back in Sigiriya and another first. Sri Lankan curry from a great restaurant called Kenoli. It looked deserted when we arrived, something we were getting used to, and over the time we had lunch quite a few travellers called in. I had the chicken curry and a mango juice. And being a Sri Lankan curry it was served in the traditional way, with lots of little bowls holding all the usual Sri Lankan accompaniments. It was delicious. And spicy. With Victoria’s egg fried rice and a Sprite the bill was a princely 3,350 rupees, $16 AUD. What about a cold beer? Not sold at the restaurant so we thought we would call somewhere and pick some up.

Buying alcohol in Sri Lanka

When travelling we usually like to pick up a couple of cold beers in the afternoon to take back to the room whilst having a few rounds of Uno. Curiously, I hadn’t yet seen anywhere that sold alcohol. I was fully expecting to see lots of types of stores that are ubiquitous in Asia. The 7-11s of Thailand. The Family Marts of Tokyo. Yet, here in Sri Lanka, nothing. So I headed over to Google (other search engines are available) to research what was going on.

What was going on was that very few places are licensed to sell alcohol. The places that are, are usually called “Wine Shops” and are marked by a large green sign, something that I learned to spot at a thousand paces. But not in Sigiriya. There wasn’t one shop in the whole village selling alcohol. This, and the fact that only limited places could sell alcohol did mean that for the whole trip we drank a lot less frequently than we might have otherwise done. Not a bad thing. As with the local beer in Bali, Bintang, the Sri Lankan lager, Lion, is not something you would want to drink much of. It takes some getting used to.

What we were getting used to was the rain. Our accommodation was down a lane off the main road and was prone to flooding. At one point it was completely flooded and fortuitously, a tuk tuk passed just at the point where we were wondering how wet we were going to get. The tuk tuk was occupied and Victoria asked if she could jump in for the 10 yards or so of flooded road. The back passenger shuffled over and Victoria jumped in. Only one of us got our feet wet.

Climbing Lion’s Peak in Sigiriya

We both got our feet wet the next day. Our last full day in Sigiriya and so our last opportunity to climb Lion’s Peak. Weather be damned, we are climbing. Not even another cold breakfast could dampen our spirits. Paying a pricey $35 USD, each, to enter the National Park it seems we weren’t the only ones braving the elements. We were in good company with large numbers out to scale the rock. 

Reading somewhere that it could take between one and three hours to climb the peak we were ready for a strenuous morning. Imagine our surprise when less than 30 minutes later we were walking around at the top. The views would have been amazing, if it ever stopped raining. We smiled. We were happy. We were travelling around Sri Lanka and knew we were very privileged. A bit of rain wouldn’t stop these two hardy folk from Yorkshire.

Walking around the top I really did get a feel of Macchu Picchu. The sense of awe I felt when first arriving at the top all those years ago. All this ingenuity. All this history. The felt sense of all those people that were here thousands of years before us. Life really is so much bigger than any of us.

Leaving Sigiriya the following day we reflected on our first impressions of Sri Lanka. I compared it to travelling many years ago. Very friendly locals all trying their best to make a living. Our first stop had been in a traditional village steeped in Sri Lankan history. Tourist numbers were low and I know this will change over the years as the world catches on to the beauty of this country. 

As this happens, and Sri Lanka moves with the times, one of my biggest hopes is that they stop this horrendous practice of chaining up elephants so tourists can gawk, ride, and take photos of them. It broke my heart each day to see the stricken elephant chained in a yard and looking very distressed. What was worse was seeing the very sharp spear the men used to dig into the elephants heels when they refused to walk where they were being directed and hearing the elephants’ harrowing cry.

I understand historically countries have used elephants in their tourist attractions. Livelihoods have been built on elephants. My hope is that many more start following the lead of places such as Mandalao Elephant Conservation in Luang Prabang, Laos, who conserve and protect these beautiful animals. Humans and animals both deserve the same level of respect.

With that thought occupying me I was brought back to the present by the sound of crunching gravel as our taxi pulled up to the hotel. We have a three hour taxi ride today, heading south, to the historical city of Kandy. If only all this rain would let up. Worryingly, it did seem to be getting worse. Has anyone checked the forecast?

Sri Lankan history

Basking in the shadow of its much larger neighbour to the north, tear drop shaped Sri Lanka has a rich and turbulent history. Colonised by the Portuguese, then the Dutch, before it was taken by the British and called Ceylon, a name many of you will associate with tea,

Sri Lanka is now a very proud independent nation, becoming a republic in 1972 and it was about to become the 54th country I’ve visited. 

In the years since, the island has been ravaged by a civil war that lasted for 25 years, ending only as recently as 2009. Many thousands of lives were lost in the fighting and it is little wonder that Sri Lanka has taken time to process the trauma.

Easter Sunday Terrorist Attacks in Colombo

Further devastation was to hit in the Easter Sunday terrorist attacks in 2019, with a number of tourist hotels targetted by suicide bombers. Across the city of Colombo, Sri Lanka’s capital, 269 people lost their lives, many of them tourists staying at the Shangri-La, The Kingsbury, and the Cinnamon Grand 5 star hotels. Not aware of the history at the time, we were to visit the Cinnamon Grand for a few cold beers on the last day of our travels in Sri Lanka.

As if they hadn’t been through enough, the country suffered an economic crisis that lasted from 2019 to December 2024. Potentially triggered by the terrorist attacks and then exacerbated by the COVID19 pandemic, the crisis resulted in unprecedented levels of inflation and electricity and fuel shortages.

It seems disaster is never far away in Sri Lanka, something we were to discover for ourselves in the very first week of our travels around the island.

Holiday Tradition

Our holiday started in the traditional way, with pre-flight drinks at the airport. A newly renovated Perth International terminal. It almost feels like the airport is entering the modern era. 

Our flight from Singapore landed in Colombo at around 11.30pm and we were shattered. Travelling from Perth, through Singapore (sadly bypassing one of my favourite cities again), and onto Sri Lanka had us turning our clocks back by two and half hours. Which meant our body clocks were now wondering why we weren’t tucked up in bed.

Clearing immigration was a breeze due to completing our electronic visas before leaving Perth. All we had to do now was negotiate a very busy South Asian airport as we neared midnight. Walking through arrivals to a cacophony of sound, and way more people than I expected for this time of the evening, I was still trying to process why we had to meet our hotel pick up driver at the post office.

“Head towards the post office”, were possibly some of the strangest instructions I had received when landing at an airport in the middle of the night.

Arriving in Sri Lanka

It soon became clear that this is where everyone got told to meet their driver. Colombo airport, officially called Bandaranaike International Airport, is rather small, and as you exit the arrival hall, into the street, turning left has you at a large blue facade, which through the day operates as the post office. In fact, it looked as though it was still open with a uniformed employee sitting behind the glass screen. After a What’s App exchange using my esim and a short wait we were soon in the minivan with one other female traveller, and her surf board, for our overnight stay at Kynrock Hotel, mere minutes from the airport. As we were not visiting Colombo until the end of our travels we opted for a hotel very close to the airport rather than taking a taxi for the one hour trip into the city.

Morning broke bright and sunny with the sounds of many foreign accents. It turns out we had a very large delegation from the Indian Red Cross staying in the hotel and they do love a “good morning” greeting, so much so that the noise from the corridor, “good morning” on repeat, acted as our alarm clock. As I always travel with fresh coffee it was a well needed strong black coffee that got my engines going for the day.

First Breakfast in Sri Lanka

With a rumbling stomach, and enticing aromas wafting down the corridor, we went in search of breakfast options. Our only option turned out to be a very expensive $12 AUD (2,494 rupee) for the “Indian breakfast”. My first chicken curry of the trip and it was delicious. A side dish of daal and a spicy Sri Lankan omelette and I was all set up for a travel day. 

We had researched the many ways of travelling around the island, and for the very first day we decided to do what many do, and that is to take a taxi. The thought of a three hour taxi ride would seem ludicrous at home, it would be like getting a taxi to Margaret River, but here in Sri Lanka a lot of locals make their living through these long taxi rides.

Sri Lankan Taxis

Through the local Pick Me app, Sri Lanka’s version of Grab/Uber, we soon had a car en route to collect us. What turned up was a completely different car, and driver, to the one in the app. However, he knew who he was picking up, and knew where we were going, so I didn’t question it. This turned out to be fairly common across the country and by the end of our travels we weren’t even batting an eyelid, we just laughed.

The car that did turn up resembled a box. A very small square box. We could only just get our two bags in the boot and then we set off, both struggling to get our rear seatbelts on. After fighting with the contraption in vain for about 10 minutes it became abundantly clear that they did not in fact work. Hold on tight, this could be quite a ride.

Arriving in Sigiriya

And so it turned out. We were headed inland, to Sigiriya, and for most of the journey we were either tailgating someone with the car horn constantly pressed and competing with the music blaring from the car’s speakers, or we were overtaking into oncoming traffic. I am not the religious sort, but I did offer a silent prayer to the big man upstairs. On our travels around the world we have had some hair raising taxi rides and this was right up there with them.

Our driver could not have looked more relaxed and as we peeled ourselves out of the car, exhausted, when we arrived at our hotel in Sigiriya, all we got was a very big smile. Very little English is spoken by the locals and a smile goes a long way.

Online paints a very different picture to reality, we know this. And yet I am still surprised to turn up somewhere and wonder if we are in the right place. The hotel looked deserted and mid construction with nobody to be seen anywhere. I even walked back to the laneway and checked the sign of the hotel. Yes, this was definitely the Lankapura Heritage hotel and the sign advertised, “Luxry rooms”. It was my first indication of what travelling in Sri Lanka would be like.

First Impressions

At home, chatting through where we would be heading, we both agreed that we had no mental image of what Sri Lanka would be like. I now saw that it was very reminiscent of travelling through much of South East Asia in 1999. At first sight, nothing much to greet the weary traveller, and then, places start growing on you. Such as when a couple of men appeared from nowhere with a cold guava drink to quench our thirsts and showed us to our room.

Cold air conditioning, a kettle for my coffee, a small fridge for beer, and an outside seating area overlooking the pool with great views across to Lion’s Rock. Things were already looking up. Now time for a stroll, find some lunch, a couple of cold beers, and check out the village of Sigiriya and continue making those first impressions.

Heading South

The route started out as so familiar. Merging with the stream of traffic heading south. The sun was rising, the skies were blue, and we were looking forward to some downtime in nature. With a bit of wine thrown in, of course.

What might surprise you is that our destination wasn’t Margaret River. I know it might feel to you that this is our second home. And it kind of is. Yet, there is a destination a little closer to home that has been described by many as the new Margaret River.

Ferguson Valley

Ferguson Valley is just over two hours south of Perth. Shaving over an hour off our usual journey down south. Leaving mid morning we were sampling some of Green Door’s excellent wines. Wines that were new to me on my wine education journey. I got to discover Monastrell. At least I thought it was new. 

A little bit of research showed me that I was very familiar with the grape, just under different names. You see, Monastrell is known as Mouvedre in France, and Mataro in other wine growing regions of the world. Everyday is a school day when you are studying wine.

However, this trip wasn’t specifically to study wine. I was very happy to learn recently that I had passed my exam for the WSET Level 2 in wines. This exam is not too onerous and does give you a very good grounding in wine, wine production, and the various grapes that are grown around the world. I am still percolating on whether my future contains WSET Level 3 and beyond, which are a big step up in commitment.

Our Escape Pod at Skating Goose Farm

My commitment for this weekend was to rediscover Ferguson Valley, a place we first visited a couple of years ago. And we were staying at the same location. The adults only luxury retreat at Skating Goose Farm. With only two cabins, called “escape pods”, Honey was to be our home for the weekend. Set amongst 150 acres of farmland, surrounded by Marri forest, this was the ultimate rest and relaxation location.

Sat on the deck of the cabin, watching the various birds flit in and out. We had a resident honey eater keeping us company in the flowering bushes in front of us. Numerous laughing kookaburras perched high in the canopy of trees serenaded us with their very unique song. A constant background buzz left us in no doubt where the local honey came from. And, as the light of the day started to fade, a mob of kangaroos appeared and surprised us by engaging in a fist fight with each other. We have seen a lot of roos, and this was the first time we have seen them boxing. It was quite the sight.

The Night Sky in Australia

As the temperature dropped, we moved onto a local Cabernet Sauvignon, from nearby Ferguson Falls. Swirling the wine in the glass, extracting the aromas, as I fired up the BBQ and cooked us a t-bone. Is there a better combination? Dinner finished and we were back on the balcony. The sun had set and darkness had arrived.

When you have experienced the night sky in remote Australia you will never need a television again. There is no better viewing than sitting, peering into the universe whilst it peers back. Wondering who is out there, watching us. It is almost a statistical impossibility that we are the only lifeform in the vast universe. We just haven’t found each other. Yet.

Without light pollution the night sky is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Awestruck we tried to count the satellites criss crossing the night sky. That was until our attention was immediately stolen by a shooting star streaking across the sky. It literally takes your breath away. And I literally hardly ever use the word literally. It is so often misused and misunderstood in the modern vernacular. 

Cabernet finished, and the traditional ritual of a whisky nightcap ending a great evening, it was time for bed. Oh, the silence. No noise of the neighbours above us doing whatever it is they do. Every evening. No city sirens racing to the latest emergency. Even the kookaburras were asleep.

10,000 Gnomes

Morning broke misty with amazing views across the paddock as the first light hit the fields. This was my cue to light up the BBQ and create our traditional bacon and egg breakfast. With the happy addition of a couple of chunky slices of black pudding.

Saturday started with a visit to what may just be the world’s weirdest tourist attraction. Although, we did find one even weirder, more on those frogs later. Gnomesville is exactly what the name suggests. A village of gnomes. A tradition that started out with one gnome has blossomed into quite possibly the largest gathering of gnomes in the world. It is a sight to be seen, and also a little creepy.

Estimates suggest there are over 10,000 gnomes, with the number growing each year as visitors from both Australia and overseas bring new additions. Covering a large area of forest that borders the main road running through Ferguson Valley I was astounded by the amount of visitors it had on the weekend we were there. And like us, not just visitors with children. A local institution, Gnomesville is a must visit if you are in the area.

Frog’s Hollow – it has to be seen to be believed

Slightly less impressive, but just starting out, is “Frog’s Hollow”. Taking the weirdness up a notch, Frog’s Hollow is a short 10 minute drive from Gnomesville. And here, frogs are trying to get in on the act. Only created this year, the number of frogs is starting to grow and it has a long way to go before it reaches the “fame” of its nearby Gnome friends. We were, unsurprisingly, the only visitors and it didn’t take us too long to explore. Who knows, 10 years from now and Frog’s Hollow might just be the next big thing in Ferguson Valley.

Lunch at Hackersley Estate

For now, we will stick with one of the Valley’s real highlights. Food. Lunch was at the impressive Hackersley Estate. With a view out across the paddock, watching a large mob of kangaroos hop past, we were there for the 3 course set menu. And it was delicious. Completed by glasses of their own Semillon and Verdelho, served a little too cold, each course was a delight. We completed the lunch with a wine tasting, getting to try the Mondeuse grape. A new one for me and a black grape that is native to France.

Rolling out of Hackersley Estate, our next stop was at Talisman Wines. A gem and a must visit. Driving down an unsealed road you could be forgiven for thinking you had taken a wrong turn. Trust yourself and turn left just after the converted buses that now double up as simple accommodation. We pulled up just 30 minutes before closing time and managed to get a full tasting from the very friendly Kim.

Set around a lake, Talisman Wines is a boutique winery producing some of the best wines of the region. The Riesling is a stand out and who would have thought of aging a Riesling in oak? Strange, right. And it works. As do all the wines we tried. The Chardonnay was exquisite and the Cabernet Malbec had me thinking of last night’s steak. And yes, reader, we purchased a selection to take home with us.

Ferguson Valley – a mini Margaret River?

Driving home the next day we reflected on our weekend, and pondered why we don’t come more often. Not owning a car is a constraint. One that means we can’t just pop down there on impulse. It takes planning and each time we hire a car it seems to drive itself to our spiritual home, Margaret River. That said, people are not far off the mark when they describe Ferguson Valley as a mini Margaret River. Vineyards. Great food. Breweries. And wildlife. What is not to like?

Dropping the hire car off we knew it wouldn’t be long before we were picking it back up. Four weeks long. For our next Margaret River trip. We will be needing some more wine by then.

In our last chat we discussed everything Chardonnay. And I am curious, have you been exploring with new expressions of this very versatile grape? I would love to hear what you experimented with and what you discovered about your palate.

Today, our palate shifts focus. From the green grape to the black grape. Yes, red wine is made from black grapes. What may surprise you is to learn that both grapes, the green and the black both contain clear pulp and juice inside. This begs the question of how do wines become different colours if the juice in the grapes is the same colour?

The magic is in the skins. And the skin on a Cabernet Sauvignon grape has a thick skin. Which is your first clue. It is the thick skin on the Cabernet Sauvignon grape that contains high levels of colour. But, how does that colour get into the wine? It is through skin contact.

The making of red wine follows a process. After the crushing of the grapes, there is a period of fermentation. With the skins in contact with the juice. The colour is absorbed by the grape juice and the result is a red liquid. The skins of the Cabernet Sauvignon grape also contain high levels of something called tannins.

Have you ever noticed that when you take a sip of red wine your mouth feels as though it is drying out? Your gums feel like they are attaching to the insides of your mouth. This is the effect of the tannins. Present in the grape stem and the thick skins of the Cabernet Sauvignon grape. Tannins in a young Cabernet Sauvignon are very high and if a wine is to be drunk young, it may well be blended with a grape like Merlot. The effect of this is to soften the tannins and make the wine eminently more drinkable, without the need to age it.

As Cabernet Sauvignon wine ages, often in oak barrels, the tannins soften and the wine takes on secondary and tertiary flavours of cedar, vanilla, and dried fruits, amongst others. Having flavours of “forest floor” may not sound appealing and this is a possible aroma of an aged Cabernet Sauvignon.

Now you know a little bit about the grape, how about a little of where it is grown. France is the homeland of Cabernet Sauvignon and the most famous region is in Bordeaux, widely regarded as one of the world’s finest wine regions. Needing a moderate to warm climate to allow it to ripen, the Left Bank of Bordeaux is well known for gravelly soils that allow for excellent drainage and heat retention which aids the ripening. Across the Gironde river, on the Right Bank, Merlot is the dominant grape, with Cabernet Sauvignon still playing a large role. 

From our previous discussion on wine labels, you will remember that “Old World” wine regions, of which France is one, rarely put the name of the grape on the wine label. This is where a little knowledge goes a long way. Now you know that if you are drinking a red Bordeaux, you are drinking Cabernet Sauvignon. Whether that is the dominant grape, or whether it is Merlot, depends on which side of the river the wine is from. Left Bank and you can be confident it is led by Cabernet Sauvignon. Right Bank, you are probably drinking a Merlot dominated wine.

Whichever side of the Gironde your wine is from, Bordeaux reds are a very distinctive wine, copied across many of the world’s wine regions. One excellent location to grow Cabernet Sauvignon is Margaret River, three hours south of Perth. With a unique maritime climate, similar to Bordeaux and with the Indian Ocean providing cooling sea breezes, Margaret River Cabernet Sauvignon has excellent balance, powerful tannins and wines that display aromas of blackcurrant and bay leaf notes.

For such a bold, full bodied, fruity wine, what would be a good food pairing? Before we explore that let’s just clear something up. The very best pairing is the one that you want. The one that you enjoy. Yes, some wines pair better with food than others. This is because of the flavour profiles in wine. Sweet wines pair better with sweet food. Crisp white acidic wines pair well with oily and fatty foods. This is why Champagne with fish and chips is a classic pairing.

And yes, there is a lot to be said by the maxim, “what grows together, goes together.” Anything Italian goes well with a Chianti Classico or an easy drinking Valpolicella. White wines do tend to pair better with fish and light dishes. You wouldn’t want your full bodied Cabernet Sauvignon with your delicately flavoured scallops.

What you would want with your Cabernet Sauvignon are grilled steaks. Hearty lamb dishes. Hard cheeses. The tannins that we mentioned earlier, that are high in a Cabernet Sauvignon bind to the proteins in red meat, providing a refreshing contrast.

All this talk is making me both thirsty, and hungry. I think I will head out for a glass of wine.

Cin cin.

How well do you know your Chardonnay?

When we last spoke, I was sharing that I have embarked on my WSET (Wine & Spirits Education Trust) Level 2 qualification. And that I am sharing my journey here, with you. Since civilisation began, wine has played an important role. Wine is history. Wine is story. Here is a little bit of my story.

The chapter we are writing today concerns the grape, Chardonnay. Yes, whilst it is named after a small village in France, Chardonnay is also the name of the grape. And, for those of you paying attention in the previous blog, you will remember that when produced in an “Old World” wine region, such as France, the name of the grape doesn’t go on the label.  Yes, I know, it can get very confusing.

Chardonnay in the 1990s

Which brings me to my introduction to Chardonnay. Kind of. Unlike here in Australia, the supermarkets in the UK sell wine as well as groceries. Here in Australia you have to find a bottle shop. The equivalent of an off licence in the UK. The convenience of being able to pick up a bottle of plonk with my peanuts was a wonder to behold when I started shopping and roaming the shelves of my local Tesco.

Being the late 80s and early 90s, supermarkets in the UK were flooded with wine from the land down under. And, to a little travelled (at the time I had seldom left the UK) Yorkshireman, the wines of Australia were very exotic. Labels with drawings of koalas, kangaroos, and boomerangs. Thankfully, over the years, wine producers have become a lot more inventive and a lot more discerning. These labels promised sunshine in a bottle. A slice of Bondi Beach right at home in Brighouse.

This was where my palate was introduced to Chardonnay. Wine that was almost yellow in the bottle. Overpowering flavours of oak. High acidity, not very well balanced by the fruit. Wine that even now, at a distance of over 30 years still makes me shiver. Maybe I had been put off from Chardonnay for life.

The Chardonnay Renaissance

Or maybe not. In the intervening years wine producers have realised that wine punters can have quite discerning palates. And after decades of wine drinkers declaring themselves as ABC, anything but chardonnay, they are being lured back to expressions of the grape that are sublime. Exquisite. Heavenly.

I am one such person. Being lucky enough to have one of the world’s best wine regions on our doorstep certainly helps. Margaret River produces only a small amount of Australia’s wine, and yet the quality is amongst the highest. If not the very best. And it was Margaret River that reignited my love for Chardonnay.

Margaret River Chardonnay

Gone are the yellow colours. Child like drawings of Australian cliches have left the labels. Long forgotten are the overpowering oak aromas, most probably obtained through the cheaper method of using oak chips, rather than the very expensive French oak barrels that are used today. Now, the wines are smooth. Elegant. Sophisticated. Think you don’t like Chardonnay? Then try one from wineries such as Vasse Felix, Cullen, and Xanadu. You may be converted.

You are not convinced? The oak flavours have ruined Chardonnay for life, for you? OK, I hear you. Bear with me. When you say you don’t like Chardonnay, I suspect it is the buttery flavours, caused by malolactic fermentation, and the oak, as talked about earlier. The secondary and tertiary flavours that are a result of a wine making choice by the wine maker. For a specific style of wine she is wanting to produce.

Chardonnay from France

Which means that the wine maker can equally make a choice to produce a Chardonnay wine without these additional processes. For example, Chablis, from the French village of the same name, produces mostly unoaked Chardonnay. The expression in a Chablis is a lot fresher. Dry and mineral on the palate. Refreshing. Not as one dimensional as an Italian Pinot Grigio, and not as complex as Chardonnay from Mersault in Burgundy, which uses oak barrels and lees contact for that secondary aroma of bread.

What I hope is becoming clear is that Chardonnay is a very versatile grape. Wine regions across the world fall between the 30 and 50 degree latitude, both north and south of the equator. Within that we have cool, moderate, and warm climates. Chardonnay grows well in all of them. With wine that bridges the scale from light bodied all the way to full bodied, with varying levels of acidity, I am convinced that there is a Chardonnay to suit you. 

It is not a time to be monogamous

Whether you like your wines aged, producing notes of hazelnut and mushroom. Or whether you like your Chardonnay young and fresh, displaying hints of apples and pears, this is a wine I encourage you to try. And don’t be monogamous. Shop around. Whether you are in your local Tesco, or in your neighbourhood Dan Murphy’s, see what is on offer.

Good examples can be found from Napa Valley in California. France has Chablis and Mersault, some of the world’s best Chardonnay. And there is Margaret River. Which I would suggest you try first. Just don’t tell the French. And if all else fails, stick to something that the Chardonnay grape does very well. Drink Champagne.

Salut, and until the next time. Live well, drink well.

Do you know your Chablis from your Chardonnay?

Do you know your Chardonnay from your Chablis? Your Sauvignon Blanc from your Sancerre? (these are trick questions, which we will get to later.”) Well, follow on with me as I go on a journey of discovery, deep into the world of wine.

My aim is to simplify things and make wine a little more accessible for you. It can be daunting, sitting in a restaurant and you are passed a wine list that looks thicker than a Harry Potter book. And the sommelier stands over you like she owns the world. Where do you start?

Start here, exploring wine with Fran.

The home of wine

Whether you agree that Georgia (the country, not the US state) is the spiritual home of wine, and whether you called your Shiraz, Syrah, I am here for you.

Starting out as a passionate lover of wine, my interest has deepened over the years and now I am embarking on Level 2 of the WSET (Wine & Spirit Education Trust). A globally recognised qualification in the wine world.

This journey may have been started with my sister as an early catalyst, presenting me with birthday gifts of a wine decanter and the voluminous “World Atlas of Wine” by Jancis Robinson and Hugh Johnson. This led to a membership with the Sunday Times wine club, my entry point into a selection of wine not available in my local Tesco superstore. At least not then. Things may well have changed in the intervening 20 years.

Wine tasting across the world

In those two decades I have been fortunate enough to visit cellar doors and taste some of the world’s best wine from across the globe. Day tripping in the Casablanca Valley in Chile. Cycling around the Malbec laden vineyards of Mendoza, Argentina. Sipping Pinot Noir in Sonoma, a neighbour to the world famous Napa Valley. In recent years I had the great opportunity to travel across the centre of the wine world. 

Just whisper it so we don’t upset our Italian friends. France. Travelling through regions such as Champagne, Burgundy, and Bordeaux had us tasting some of the wines that sing across your palate. 

Margaret River wine region

Closer to home, Australia has been where I have done most wine tasting. Having the Margaret River wine region on our doorstep is something that wine buffs can only dream of. A relatively recent member of the wine fraternity, the vines in this region only date back to the late 1960s. And in this short space of time Margaret River wine makers are making their mark on the wine world. Until you have tried a Chardonnay from Vasse Felix, have you even ever had Chardonnay? And the Cabernet Sauvignon? Full bodied, balanced tannins, and a long finish. Writing this has me heading to the butchers for a t-bone steak.

Live long, drink wine

However, this blog is about wine, not food. Not that you can ever separate the two. Food and wine have gone together since time immemorial. And, research from the Blue Zones, where people regularly live to over 100 years, suggests that part of that longevity is related to the diet which includes a daily glass of wine.

That is something I can drink to.

Short explainer

* Chablis is Chardonnay. Sancerre is Sauvignon Blanc.

Wine production is often defined as New World and Old World. France is a country that sits in the Old World and the wine labelling is based on location, not the grape variety. Hence their Chardonnay that is grown in the village of Chablis is named as such. Same as the sauvignon blanc wines that are produced in the village of Sancerre.

To avoid a lot of the confusion, and partly a marketing ploy, New World producers, which include Australia, label wines with the name of the grape on front.