Perhaps I should start with a small confession: with a deep love of a road trip and an even deeper love for the rugged West Coast, how is it possible that neither of us have ever driven inland past Clanwilliam or coast-wise past Lamberts Bay? We are spending a long weekend visiting a handful of boutique winemakers on the West Coast Wine Route. Only three and a half hours earlier we hopped onto the N7 and breathed a deep sigh as we curved down the Piekenierskloof Pass to be greeted by rows of slightly too proud orange trees showing off their ripe wares. Malmesbury, Moorreesburg, Piketberg, Citrusdal, Clanwilliam, I chant in silence, pouring over the map. Then, left into Klawer from where we are taking the R362 towards Vredendal – with no idea of what to expect. For us, there has been no immediate wine association, perhaps a best kept secret. We follow the road as it curves through the valley along the Olifants River, which snakes across the land towards the West Coast; we could not have imagined rolling vines planted to this extent, standing naked and sparse, spindly fingers reaching up towards an expanding sky. Soon the picture will change – all will be dressed in green, but now it is snoeityd (pruning time) and some are already trimmed down to size. This is the Matzikama district incorporating towns Vanrynsdorp, Vredendal, Klawer, Ebenhaezer, Koekenaap and Lutzville inland and arid, rugged coastal districts, Doring Bay and Strandfontein and, by association, Lamberts Bay. Even though the area has an arid Karoo feel, the sea is just a few kilometres away as the many pied crows fly. It is home to some of the largest wine cellars, and Mother Nature has a hand in this overall success story. The cold sea breezes from the Atlantic Ocean cool the grapes, allowing them to ripen slower, and the mineral-rich limestone soil and the fertile earth surrounding the Olifants River allows for a rich, complex wine with balanced acidity and sugar. These factors all contribute to the unique terroir evident in the cultivation of some incredible cool-climate cultivars. With commercial hub Vredendal as our base, we head out of town back on the R362 towards Lutzville. First stop Bellpost, home of wines from the Thiart family. We are greeted by Koos Thiart, who unlocks the cellar just for us, and immediately feel at home, perhaps because this is Koos’s home – he grew up on the farm. His love for wine shines through (by day he is a winemaker at Namaqua) as he guides me to the Chardonnay, followed by C’est la Vie and then the ’07 Shiraz and Ruby Cabernet and ’08 Merlot, whilst we talk about southern France, becoming listed on menus, and distribution in general. With 2005 being their maiden vintage, it is clear that the making of boutique wines is relatively new in this area. Before we bid a fond farewell and hit the dirt road, we look out over the rows upon rows of naked vineyards towards the sun dipping in the west – I close my eyes to imagine harvest time when the grapes are picked by hand. From here we follow directions to Cape Rock, proud brand of Willie and Des Brand and wind our way carefully down steep dirt roads into a small valley. They have just finished Sunday lunch with their family. Des is an artist and I am mesmerised by her work in the foyer en route to the cellar, which they explain is a work in progress. When there are enough people, they host a tasting in their lounge. Focused on the Rhône style of winemaking, vineyards based elsewhere in the area include Mourvèdre and Grenache. Their offering also includes the bespoke Portuguese-style 2009 Capa Roca, of which only 580 bottles are produced. I purchase one later on our journey, but guard the black bottle like gold. We stand and talk in between the barrels in the cellar and Willie touches on perseverance for the love of making wine. They have just been awarded a Perswijn recommendation for their 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon, so the perseverance is paying off. Capa Roca – I say it slowly whilst driving and like how the words roll off my tongue. I have to confess also that we are but a lopsided team. The one doth drink wine (sometimes any wine, but mostly a good bottle or perhaps vice versa), the other doth not. At all. I am on my own to decide if I swirl or don’t swirl, drink or spit (I drink). I come to realise that here it does not matter. It is about the love of wine and the rustic and raw. There is a passion for winemaking that transcends the role of larger producer, as suppliers put their expert hands towards their own product. Driving off the main roads and into the farms feels more like an adventure coupled with a personal invitation into someone’s home or work space. In a world where we are bombarded with choice, the story or experience of the people behind the wine provides an essence of something very bespoke – there is an opportunity for unique, personal interaction which is very refreshing; where do you get to kuier directly with the winemakers and farmers? That’s why it’s important to make an appointment, someone reiterates… they may just be on the land. The following day we visit Teubes. We meet Ella, Johan and their son Sybrand, third generation winemaker. Oupa Sybrand, at 82, still to this day loves working the land. At just 22, young Sybrand is back from studying, bringing home some of his own ideas encapsulated in the crisp, medium-bodied, dry white Malkopbaai wine, which mixes the more tropical tastes of inland grapes with the coastal green fruit aromas. Johan takes us in the bakkie to survey the land, which includes some organic vineyards, looking towards the Maskamberge. With the last touches being put on a tasting hall, soon there will be more guest houses opening too. Ella encourages hiking on the farm. Without hesitation, father and son make an arrangement to meet us in the late afternoon in Lamberts Bay to also tell us more about Sir Lamberts, their other wine. There is no doubt in my mind that they will be there at the precise time; no need to follow up. Each generation brings his own knowledge and a youthful sense of adventure. With more children embarking on the art of viticulture and returning to their land, one can only imagine what energy and vision they will bring to this region that has been loved and tended by generations before. We enjoy lunch at neighbouring Die Keldery, the visitor’s centre for Namaqua. A modern, bigger setup in keeping with what one expects wine farm visits to be, Die Keldery still offers the personal touch through a delicious traditional menu paired with their own wines and others from the area. Kids run around and adults laze about swirling glasses in the winter sun. We indulge in to-die-for coffee Cremora tart before we hit the R363 towards the coast. Now crossing the dorp sideways, we soon dip under the bridge guiding the tracks for the West Coast Sishen-Saldanha iron-ore train, an icon of the West Coast. Before Lutzville we curve to the left on the R362 towards the sea, passing Seal Breeze Wines. Koos told us about Joan Higgins’ beautiful garden and I would love to hear more about the incredible wines she started making at the age of 51 (I purchase a bottle at Die Keldery), but will have to visit her next time. Following the rugged coastline, we pass Strandfontein and Bamboes Bay en route to Doring Bay. Our directions to Fryer’s Cove are simple: ‘just follow the road to the lighthouse’. We curve our way through what looks like part of an old harbour to find ourselves stopping in front of an old fish factory, housing the recently opened Fryer’s Cove winery and tasting room. We are told that when the space became available it was just the perfect opportunity. And what an opportunity indeed – it is literally on the sea, not unlike the vineyards first planted in 1999. Being only 820 metres away from the ocean back towards Strandfontein it is believed to be the closest vineyard to an ocean. From the tasting room, visitors can take a leisurely stroll down the jetty, built in 1976 along the remains of the original one built in 1928, to a little private room at the edge – what could be better than to hover, as if on deck (wine in hand!), mesmerised by the sinking sun and Poseidon-esque Atlantic or, when facing the other way, looking towards the harbour dotted with wooden boats and rustic old factory buildings. Needless to say, with such a unique setting and the cold Atlantic mist regularly wrapping around the vines, winemaker Wynand Hamman and viticulturist Jan van Zyl have a winning formula, in particular with their Bamboes Bay Sauvignon Blanc that has received accolades year on year. The sun is shining brightly, but I can easily envision sitting enveloped by a grey sky with storming seas and being huddled around the recently added fireplace enjoying the Bamboes Bay Pinot Noir. The setting also provides a unique opportunity in the winemaking process. Water is pumped via stainless steel pipes through the coils slightly visible underneath the jetty to utilise the ice-cold ocean to cool it down, and then back to the winery, keeping the wine at optimum temperature and thus saving energy. What a joy to chat to father, Ponk van Zyl, who explains this to me. He is a true local who only left the area for two years and returned home with a Volksie en ’n vrou. From Doring Bay we hit the dirt toll road that follows the railway track all the way to Lamberts Bay, where vibrant orange and painted purple flowers nestle against the sleepers. At five on the dot, Johan and Sybrand are waiting for us in the harbour. Into the bakkie we hop and off to Sir Lambert, just outside the dorp. Johan and local doctor John Hayes are in partnership and have, over time, identified which vines are the happiest in this particular terroir (answer: Sauvignon Blanc). The lay of the land, which provides height for the crisp Atlantic wind to sweep over, along with a combination of minimum intervention methods has resulted in a 2008 vintage that was awarded Gold at the Michelangelo International Wine Awards. Named after Admiral Sir Robert Lambert, who mapped out this rugged coastline in 1826, I wonder if wine could become synonymous with towns once well-known for their fishing. We leave the simple, yet beautiful empty banquet hall for hire and cross the road to see where you can camp amongst the rocks or play nine holes of golf on perfect green grass – just remember to look out for a zebra or bokkie. We close the day by enjoying a bottle of Sir Lambert at Isabella’s Restaurant in the harbour, regaling stories as grey dolosse become enveloped in darkness with streaks of pink brushed against the night sky. How wonderful that good company and laughter makes wine taste even more incredible. We spend the night at the Clanwilliam Lodge, an old meisieskoshuis. Snow blankets of daisies greet us along the N7 back towards Cape Town and I am reminded of the melancholic Thomas Gray quote: ‘Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air’. We carefully curve coast-side in and up into the Piekenierskloof past fields and fields of more flowers until we reach Tierhoek, a working farm with a small winery and a very private feel – it is an honour to be in this space. This sandveld farm and its vines were restored by Tony and Shelley Sandell who purchased this precious land in 2001. Stark oak trees guard the farmhouse and soon this too will be a world of green. But as winemaker Roger Burton says, each time of the year here is beautiful. As we stroll in the crisp morning air, he touches on something interesting: creativity. One can taste if the creativity or inspiration is missing in a wine. For creativity one requires passion and this is something that everyone we meet has in good measure. That and of course, as he says, good grapes that require minimal intervention. Guests can stay at the farmhouse be, some even just fall asleep, fairytale-like under an altitude spell. I, on the other hand, would like to haul out the stacked board games and roll the dice whilst sipping on their Tierhoek Grenache Syrah. We finally drag ourselves away with promises of returning soon. It is Renske van Zyl of Fryer’s Cove who wins the quote of the weekend, ‘Die wyn moet vir homself kan praat’. Wine needs to speak for itself, and so it does. Sadly, we can’t visit all the farms that make up the route, but we can sense that the communal factor, apart from a deep love for winemaking, is the genuine pleasure of being in company and learning from each other. This is not about sitting back and being served, this is about connecting with real people. We will revisit new memories with (my!) enjoyment of each bottle. And as I reflect on the West Coast Wine Route as a whole, I again think of more sons and daughters who are learning the art of viticulture and winemaking and will one day, too, return with their passion and inspiration. We leave with a sense that this could be the beginning of what may be a bigger route in years to come, one that you need to take your time on. We hope to spread the word, but I confess, at the same time we would really like to keep it a secret. This article first appeared in the printed Spring 2011 edition of Wine-Style Magazine. Please visit www.wine-style.co.za for more pictures and to subscribe to the magazine.