Life
International Traveller - English Wine's southern revival
A journey through the riverside parish of Rye and surrounds in Englands' southeast rewards the adventurous wine lover.
For a time, English wine was a curiosity for some and a punchline for others. Now, curiosity may remain, but English wine is no joke. Vineyards can be found as far west as Cornwall and in North Yorkshire. But just a few hours from London a concentration of vineyards in what was traditionally hop country make for the perfect wine trip to the medieval town of Rye and surrounds.
I can count on one hand the number of times I've tasted English wine - all of it sparkling and accompanied with a self-deprecating line of "it's English but really it's not so bad." I had preconceptions, thinking I'd find mostly sparkling wine marketed to a conservative palate, that varietals would be limited, and that I'd find English winemakers taking aim at the French.
Mostly, people were fixed on their own terroir and how climate change has widened the scope of English winemaking. On the one hand there's longer, warmer growing seasons, better ripening and suitability of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier, but on the other there's the unpredictability of weather events. Oxney Organic, 10 kilometres outside Rye, is an old-meets-new moment, of which there'll be many in Sussex, described locally as 1066 Country. I'm staying for the night in a Shepherds Hut overlooking a vineyard block, of which there are 35 acres first planted in 2012.
A sunset at Rye harbour (Credit: Clubfoto Istock)
I walk the property with co-founder Kristin Syltevik. Her partner, Paul Dobson, manages the wider estate's livestock and arable farming, but wine is very much her domain. A modern winery is housed in a Grade II-listed square oast house. Hundreds of years old, it would have been used to dry hops. It now sees Chardonnay, Seyval Blanc, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier pass through its doors. Output is mainly sparkling, Syltevik saying her aspiration is to be "as good as the good grower Champagne." But there's also an appetite for still wines, a Chardonnay holding space within the tasting as we discuss its characteristics. Syltevik says of the Chardonnay that "some years we are in this kind of floral lemon year, but now with this vintage we're in a kind of straw herbal year."
Sicilian winemaker Salvatore Leone says it's a long journey, "understanding the pattern of some consistency versus the inconsistency of the climate. So, we are constant students trying to understand what we have out there and then translating it." Leone has been working in the United Kingdom for over a decade and, he says, prefers it to countries with a more traditional and rigid approach. "Here we have the opportunity to shape what things are going to be, so it's a very interesting moment (for English wine)."
The mixed use farm of the Tillingham sits upon dates back to the 13th century and is home to vineyards, fruit trees and ancient woodland.
ORIGINS OF MODERN ENGLISH WINE
Back in 1971, outside Hastings, David Carr Taylor started initial plantings at what would become Carr Taylor, with a mix of Reichensteiner, Gutenborner, Muller Thurgau, Dornfelder and classic Champagne varietals Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay. Now into his eighties, he says, "we were the first people in England to put in a commercial vineyard of 21 acres." Of those early German varietals they had varying results, but the one that has endured is the Reichensteiner. Over half a century in, Carr Taylor says that English wine is still "in its infancy", and that he constantly sees change on his own vineyard. "During the last five or six years, where we've had months of drought conditions during the summer, the roots (of the Reichensteiner) are going much deeper than they've ever done before, tapping into strata which is probably about two or three hundred years old, and what has been produced, I don't recognise. Beautiful aromatic flavours, with soft balance to them." Carr Taylor credits his winemaker son Alexander. "He's very clever in just putting about 15 per cent Reichensteiner into, say, Pinot Noir or something like that, and getting very interesting results," he says.
"After 56 years [the property was purchased in 1969] you would have thought things would have settled down, but people's palates are changing and Alexander is keeping well in the forefront of that."
At Charles Palmer Vineyards, outside of Winchelsea (once part of the historic Cinque Ports Confederation), the narrow lane to the cellar door takes you through "the new gate," a stone arch built in the 13th century as part of Winchelsea's defences. A relatively young vineyard, first plantings were in 2006, and sit below Wickham Manor, the oldest parts built in the 16th century. It's now home to the Palmer's and, for a night or two, lucky B&B guests.
Oxney Organic is quietly building a name for its growing stable of wines (Credit: Sussex Winelands - James Ratchford)
Charles Palmer vineyards outside of Winchelsea (Credit: Sussex Winelands - James Ratchford)
I stand on a vantage point, Charles and son Robert working in the vineyard below. The cellar door manager points and says, "this used to be underwater about 400 years ago." Winchelsea thrived as a port, accessing the sea via the River Brede. The coastline, ever shifting, moved outward, Winchelsea becoming landlocked. The vineyard sits on Kimmeridgian clay, rich in fossilised shells imparting minerality. Chablis in the north of Burgundy is used as a reference point. It's here that my head is turned by lightly oaked Pinot Noir.
ENGLISH WINE - AN UNEXPECTED WONDERLAND
Outside the village of Peasmarsh, viticulturist Sebastian O'Callaghan walks guests around the vineyards at Tillingham, an up-and-coming name in English wine. If ever there were a winemaking idyll, it's here. Looking down the valley, the coast is just half a mile beyond a church spire in Rye that we use as a reference. Dew Farm, home to Tillingham, is just 70 acres with 25 acres under vine and the remainder split between ancient woodland and grazing sheep. Alice in Wonderland was written at "the big house at the end of the lane" we're told, and the woodland, home to an unexpected vineyard pest: sets of voracious badgers.
As we taste there's the first signs of budburst in the vineyard first planted in 2017. While Salvatore Leone also makes wine here, it was winemaker Ben Walgate who was the creative force behind the Tillingham of today. "Pretty much everything that's here was the vision of Ben," says O'Callaghan. "He was behind the planting, the winemaking, the whole brand ideology really. And Ben was one of the early people [in England] who was interested in what people call natural wine, but we would always say that we are low-intervention winemakers." That much is apparent by the vessels found in the winery - traditional qveri placed in fruit bins filled with sand.
The Armoury on Winchelsea's Castle Street is a fine example of the medieval architecture of this historic town. (Credit: Jonny Thompson)
Walgate planted 25 varietals, from the tried and tested to Ortega and Gamay (the latter of which O'Callaghan says he's never seen on an English vineyard). Apparently, they've all done reasonably well, bar Merlot. The vineyards are just weeks from biodynamic certification when I visit and it all fits with the ethos of the property. As we walk, the kitchen team whizz past on the hunt for wild garlic, the estate restaurant's sustainable reputation cemented by a Michelin Green Star. The wine, thankfully, is excellent, possessing the vivacious character of low intervention, converting even the most conservative of drinkers within the tasting.
Dinner at the estate comes with a sunset view of the vineyards, the woodland beyond and thoughts of those voracious badgers. Staying on site in their boutique rooms is a must as much for the short walk as lingering in the bar. Staying in Rye gives another perspective. While there's no shortage of historic pubs - The Mermaid Inn with its Norman cellars, or locals' favourite, The Ypres Castle Inn - Walgate Wines is mandatory. The erstwhile Tillingham winemaker continues his low-intervention mission in a portside industrial space.
I'm glad to have ditched the car and have time to work through the list, order pizza, and think about the past days of upturning preconceptions. With time I'd love to look at the larger operations like Chapel Down, and the Champagne Taittinger joint venture Domaine Evremond (both in Kent), journey to Hampshire and into the west to Dorset and Cornwall. A perfect excuse for round two?