The more wine I drink, the less faith I have in my palate’s prowess to discern the kind of things that earn you a wine certificate, or a seat at the judges’ table, and the more I love meeting the people who make it and the thoughts they provoke.
So when our Berlinerin Weinfreundin, Ursula Heinzelmann, recently visited, it gave us good reason (as if it was needed) to catch up with some old friends, and new ones, in the Cape winelands, Botrivier and the Swartland. Tough job, but someone’s gotta do it. I set out with a photo essay in mind, but along the way, I couldn’t help thinking about all sorts of things outside the bottle. It went something like this…
The Luddites
Alice Verburg will always look up to her father: she has to, he’s six-foot-four. Her parents, Niels and Penny, have been our friends for years and their home at Luddite, their feasts of love and exceptional wines have punctuated countless unforgettable moments, for all the right reasons. We’ve watched their family grow up and always wondered which of the three siblings would be the one who got cellar-fever. Now we know: it’s Ali. She’s her own woman and we can’t wait to see how she will roll with the bunches, but one thing’s for sure, she’ll keep throwing clogs in the machines, challenging the rules, and staying true to her Saboteur roots so deeply embedded in the hillside banks of the Botrivier. For now, they are still dancing a cellar tango (probably a breakdance at times!) but Ali will hold the baton soon and when she does, she’ll do it on extraordinarily solid ground. You see, apart from sharing their hearts, the Luddites are also double-handedly responsible for teaching us the true meaning of ‘balance’ when it comes to all things vinous, and quite possibly how life itself is best lived.
The wine | Luddite Chenin
Yes, Luddite is all about Shiraz, a gentle giant just like Niels. But there’s something elusive and unpredictable about the Chenin that gets me very excited. Ali was only a teen when Penny convinced her husband to plough up the front lawn leading to the dam and plant her favourite grape, and bless her for doing so.
Chris Alheit
A moment with Chris Alheit is a lesson in humility. And following him around his humble cellar in the Hemel-en-Aarde hills, is more of a treasure hunt than a barrel-tasting. He’s a study in contemplation: a spiritual soul who seems to find solace in creating the kind of wines that taste like answers to questions not yet posed. It’s as if he knows exactly what he’s doing, but is still as amazed as you are at what lands up in the glass. And everything he pours whispers of mystery and familiarity all at the same time, like bottled bible verses. When he picked up a waiter’s friend and pointed out the fingers of the Paardeberg mountain in the Swartland on a 3D relief map hanging on the wall, I realised that although I’ve been there many times, seeing its different facets and having its granite soils described in such a reverential tone was a distinctly Damascene moment. Just like his wine.
The wine | Fire by Night
For Chenin fans, there’s nothing with the name Alheit on the label that won’t touch your soul. His original Cartology Cape blend is hard to beat, and wine guru Tim Atkin loves Magnetic North Chenin so much he gave it a rare 100 points out of 100 in his 2025 SA wine report. But if we had to choose, the single vineyard Fire By Night Chenin from the Nuwedam farm on the Paardeberg is probably it: a sermon to the Swartland.
Adi Badenhorst
Adi Badenhorst is like the affable uncle who makes family gatherings a total jol. Which perfectly describes a weekend of wine-tasting at the family farm, Kalmoesfontein. But behind the beard and the impish jibes, there’s a highly-skilled winemaker and a keen business brain. Proof? Just look how he’s managed to underpin the AA Badenhorst Family Wines adventure with the not-so-humble Secateurs that he describes as ‘the best value Chenin Blanc in the world’. Fair call for sure. But every time we visit his little corner of the Swartland it reminds me of the saying, ‘Be not afraid of going slowly, be afraid only of standing still’. His ‘office’ still looks like a student digs from the 80s, but it might be the only place on the farm where time stands still. Each visit reveals another old building re-imagined into something more useful and every time you sit on Adi’s stoep you’re guaranteed to experience something new, something exciting, something you haven’t heard of or something you just didn’t know.
The wine | The Roasted Slopes Aromatika
Bang on script, Adie pulled this out at the end of our tasting. I still have no idea what it is or how to become part of the Kalender Klub that’s touted on the label. Even Chat GPT is clueless. But it’s definitely part of the family, made from red varieties I’ve never heard of, distinctly light in style and big on flavour. You probably can’t get it anywhere other than the farm, but if you can, I recommend you do.
Eben Sadie
If Adi is the godfather of the Swartland Revolution, his good friend and neighbour, Eben Sadie, is its high priest. Lectures by Dr Augustine Shutte (an ex Catholic minister turned professor), on the philosophy of religion and his fascination with the mystery of the human condition were a highlight of my student years. And an audience with Eben is reminiscent of those moments. I doubt there’s ever been a winemaker more dedicated to recording, analysing and decoding every process, every variable and every vintage that has enabled him to rewrite the history, and potential, of old vines and ancient soils in and around the Swartland. And there’s nowhere you feel the weight of his quest more acutely than standing silent in his subterranean vinothèque, surrounded by a meticulous catalogue of his life’s work. It’s less of a storage room and more like a secret chamber in the Library of Alexandria. Einstein famously said that his real talent was being ‘passionately curious’ and I suspect that’s equally true for Mr Sadie.
The wine | Soldaat
Fall for their charms and it’s hard to choose a favourite ‘Sadie’, but we both agreed there’s something properly seductive about this single vineyard Grenache from the Piekenierskloof. Tense like a twisted beach towel and tingling with cherries and pomegranate, it makes me feel a little giddy just thinking about it.