The height of the Australian summer, huh? The sky is as grey as the Four Courts; there is even a touch of drizzle. "Soft weather," grins Bruce Tyrrell, with an enthusiasm for leaden clouds that seems to belong 15,000 miles away. But no wonder he's chirpy. Dumper bins piled high with perfectly ripe grapes are arriving every few minutes at the winery his family has nurtured for 140 years. Maybe it's pretty good luck after all to be catapulted from Ireland into the Hunter Valley on the first day of vintage.
A two-hour drive northwest of Sydney, the Hunter is Australia's most visited wine region - a curious mix of backwoods charm and slick resort hotels; an undulating patchwork of vineyards and golf courses. But perversely, outside Australia, its identity is blurred. It's not always acknowledged as one of the country's most historic regions - a place where vines have flourished since the 1820s. Worse, it doesn't get the recognition it deserves for its knack of producing sensational wine from two grape varieties - one white and one red. Semillon and Shiraz.
"The best Hunter Semillons, when aged, are the best in the world," says Len Evans, the combative Welsh godfather of Australian wine, who has made the valley his base since 1969. "Hunter Shiraz matures into a classic, with a depth and intensity of flavour that is absolutely unmatched." Evans is doing what he does best - pontificating, glass in hand. From the terrace behind Loggerheads, his aptly named and awesomely artistic home, he surveys a great sweep of the valley, taking in Rothbury, his first venture, and Tower, his new one.
"I'm a crusty old bastard, but I love the Hunter more and more." In the vast parkland he has recently acquired to protect his privacy, kangaroos are lolloping towards a pale sunset.
Those clouds, glimpsed on the first day, are the Hunter's salvation. This is a hot region, make no mistake about it; but in the ripening season, cool afternoon breezes blow in from the sea, petering out along the Brokenback Range, the valley's majestic backdrop. A canopy of cloud prevents the precious grapes from being frazzled to bits in merciless sun. More than 50 wineries are dotted around the Lower Hunter Valley now - some of them familiar giants such as Tyrrells, Lindemans, McWilliams, McGuigans; many much smaller and driven by the passion of enthusiasts with blood running in their veins: Briar Ridge, for instance, and Brokenwood; Reg Drayton Wines and Drayton Family Wines; Scarborough and, over to the west, Andrew Margan. In the Upper Hunter, a good hour through parched pastures to the north, there's the same mix on a smaller scale, with Rosemount, the biggie, still growing like crazy, while boutique producers such as Jon and Jane Reynolds operate out of a sweet little structure of Victorian sandstone.
What about the wines? If, like me, you're not always in the mood for the big, brash wines we're inclined to think of as typically Australian, look out for Hunter labels - for this is a region that has unlocked the secrets of elegance. Although you'll find all the usual grapes, and some unusual ones (such as young, zippy Verdelho), the Hunter's famous Semillon and Shiraz steal the show.
Semillon, the white grape which is blended with Sauvignon Blanc in Bordeaux, is rarely seen on Irish shelves as a standalone variety (so far, at least: fingers crossed, Chardonnay fatigue will soon give it a boost). In the Hunter Valley it delivers the most amazing wine, but even in Australia it's regarded as a regional speciality rarely seen beyond Sydney - an oddity, almost. Only a minority of wine-nuts understand its wayward nature. Unoaked Hunter Semillon, drunk in the first year or so, is citrussy, fresh, mineral - even battery-acidaustere. At around six years of age, it begins to emerge as a much more enthralling wine, its rich toastiness cut by the razor-sharp acidity that can make it live for decades.
But Semillons, like humans, are awkward items in that interim between extreme youth and adulthood. "I've been making Semillon for 26 years," muses Patrick Auld of Lindemans, "and I still don't know why it should be so, but at two to three years old, it usually tastes bloody awful. The fruit goes, leaving a sort of cheesy character. Then it comes back, and it's one of the great white wines of the world." "Semillon is just too good to be kept to a small audience," agrees Phil Ryan, chief winemaker at McWilliams, a landmark winery whose roots stretch back to 1860s immigrants from Co Antrim. "In the late 1980s a lot of wineries dropped Semillon to get into Chardonnay and I thought, great. If they all leave it alone we can really do something with it. I'm passionate about it." Having tasted McWilliams Elizabeth Semillon (see Bottle of the Week) back to 1982 with Phil, and the single vineyard Lovedale back to 1984, I feel pretty passionate myself. Semillons such as these, with their knifeedge balance between mouth-filling richness and dancing freshness, are worth travelling half way across the world to uncover.
As for Hunter Shiraz, it goes through the adolescent phase too. James Halliday, Australia's leading wine writer (and a founder of the Hunter winery Brokenwood), feels it makes "the same transformation in bottle as Semillon, moving from an astringent, angular and spiky youth into a velvety, almost luminous maturity". Gradually, the youthful aromas of bonfire-smoke and brambles give way to liquorice, earth and polished leather in a wine kept lively for years, sometimes decades, by that remarkable Hunter acidity.
These Shirazes are not high-alcohol whoppers; and, although practice varies from one winery to another, there's a general tendency not to swamp their subtlety with an overdose of new oak. Maybe more people are paying heed to old Murray Tyrrell, the valley's bellicose defender of tradition, than he thinks. Although frail now and in poor health, he was at the winery that first morning of vintage, delivering the broadsides for which he is renowned. (This, after all, is a man who sent a health inspector packing with his shotgun.)
"This country's gone wood-mad," he growled. "Sensible human beings can't drink wood. Kidney transplants will increase with all that stuff going into people." Oh yes, Mr Tyrrell, I agree - but in the big picture, Hunter Shiraz is a model of restraint. Well worth seeking out, alongside those thrilling Semillons.
The best recent vintages, both for Hunter Semillon and Shiraz are: 1994; 1996 (best of decade); 1998; 2000 may beat them all.
Many of the region's best wines haven't yet made the journey to Ireland - but they soon may. In the meantime, here are a few that have:
Semillon
Tesco Hunter Valley Semillon 1997 (Tesco, £7.99). Watch it: this 1997, made for Tesco by Rosemount, may be into gangly adolescence - but it's still a very decent introduction to the Hunter style, ripe and citrussy with a smidgeon of honey. Maybe buy a couple and tuck one away.
Mount Pleasant Elizabeth Hunter Valley Semillon, McWilliams, 1994 (Martins Fairview, McHugh's Kilbarrack, Raheny Wine Cellar, Lord Mayor's Swords, Kellys Malahide, DeVine Wine Shop Castleknock, McCabes Blackrock, Thomas's Foxrock and some other outlets, usually £9.99) From one of the valley's greatest Semillon ambassadors, Phil Ryan, a classic of breathtaking quality at a very affordable price. See Bottle of the Week. Tyrrells Private Bin Vat 1 Semillon, Hunter Valley, 1992 (restaurants only, typical price on wine list about £45). Restaurant-only wines don't usually feature in the shopping list end of this column, but this is such a star - fat, honeyed, yet fresh as a daisy - that it simply can't be omitted. A treat to look out for in Ashford Castle, Fogarty's restaurant in Clifden, the Grand Hotel in Wicklow and a few other enlightened eating establishments.
Shiraz
Tyrrells Old Winery Shiraz 1997 (many Roches Stores, SuperValu/Centra and Superquinn outlets, O'Briens Fine Wines and many other off-licences countrywide, usually £7.99). Only half the grapes used here are from the Hunter - but that's enough to provide typical overtones of earth and leather. A really tasty Shiraz at this price. Mount Pleasant Philip Hunter Valley Shiraz, McWilliams, 1994 (outlets as for Mount Pleasant Elizabeth above, also usually £9.99). This one goes all the way. Gamey and slightly herbaceous, it unfolds smoothly into a long finish of gentle peppery spice, with alcohol not even touching 12 per cent.
Rothbury Brokenback Shiraz, Hunter Valley, 1996 (Berry Bros Harry St, CheersTake Home outlets including Howth; Baker's Corner; Greystones; Delgany, Mortons Ranelagh, Quinns Drumcondra, McHughs Kilbarrack, Bennetts Howth, On the Grapevine Dalkey, SuperValu Baldoyle, Oddbins, SuperValu Blackrock Cork, Spar Clonakilty, usually about £12.50). A stylish Hunter red, through and through - light and lively on the palate, with a long and engaging savoury finish.