In the foundations of Weltevrede there are vines older than 80 years deeply rooted and still bearing grapes every year, vines planted by my great-grandfather that we never intend to take out or replace. They are declared as Conservation worthy property for future generations to cherish. However such age is the exception. In most cases a vineyard gets to twenty five or thirty years when the vines gets hard headed and start following their own minds, some ripening too early, some too late, some never ripening properly. Then when it is a grape varietal that has no purpose in the portfolio anymore sadly it is time to give the vineyard what some farmers call “an iron treatment” – tractor and chain. Old gnarled vines are uprooted and follow their ancestors – ashes to ashes – the real South African, or shall I say Kaapse braai with wingerdstompies.

The land is cleared, lucerne (alphalfa) sowed, guinea fowl pie made (just to bring the message across to the pecking squad that this particular piece of land is temporarily no free range territory.) Once the lucerne is growing they are welcome again. Lucerne replenishes the soil with nitrogen in a natural way, and only then, after another five years it is time to plant the new vineyard again. Thus one particular piece of terroir is planted only every thirty or thirty five years on average, more or less the gap between generations. There is a thirty four year age difference between me and my father, so where I am planting this year is where he planted when he was more or less my age. Also this is where my grandfather and great-grandfather planted vineyards when they were my age. It comes down to only one chance to plant a vineyard on a specific part of the farm in one’s lifetime.

So once the decision was made on what to plant and the new vines ordered and grafted at least a year in advance it is time to plough up the lucerne and to ‘build’ the new vineyard. First of all the soil is ripped more than one meter deep, sometimes leaving shale rocks like Obelix’s menhirs poking from the soil. These rocks are broken to smaller rocks or removed to have a fairly clean canvas to do the layout of the vineyard. And this is a part I enjoy because it is like having a giant canvas of maybe two hectares to design a giant work of art. Once a year I retrieve the generations’ old leather case, like an ancient pirate’s treasure chest, a theodolite and its tripod. Looking more like a ship captain’s sextant this antique instrument helps me to do the layout to precision. Keeping in account the outline, the slopes, movement of the sun, the prevailing wind direction and other factors we start drawing lines on the soil. And then the hard work starts; to plant hundreds of poles and like a team of careful spiders kilometres of wire is tightly strung among them, networks of drip irrigation is installed with valves and chokers and breathers and then finally thousands of young rooted vines are planted introduced to our terroir, placed on the spot where they will spend their lives offering beautiful fruit from which to make the wines of Weltevrede.

Like a baby this vine will first have to grow up and will need constant attention. It will take another three, four or five years before the first crop is ready. I will judge the first grapes, taste it and wait with expectation while the first batch ferments. Sometimes it exceeds expectations, sometimes not. Whichever way, I am starting a journey with this vineyard for the rest of my life.

Cheers, on a great journey.