For many years, McLaren Vale was overshadowed by the Barossa and was hardly ever brought up when someone in South Australia inquired about wine. That appears to be evolving. Travel writers who used to rush directly to Tanunda are now staying forty minutes south of Adelaide, and there’s a feeling that word has finally spread about an area that has been quietly outstanding all along.
The setting does a lot of the convincing on its own, which is helpful. An afternoon at Aldinga Beach, where the sand is still warm, can cap off a morning spent sampling shiraz at McLaren Vale, which is situated where the hills of the Fleurieu Peninsula slope down toward the coast. Few wine regions in the world combine that kind of topography so carelessly, with vineyards giving way to the ocean within a short drive instead of a scheduled trip.
The wine itself has significant weight as well. Although it is rarely acknowledged, McLaren Vale is technically the oldest wine-growing region in South Australia, predating even the Barossa. Due to the region’s near-Mediterranean climate, its shiraz is typically warm and rich, and grenache from old, low-yielding vines has quietly gained a lot of attention from sommeliers. Fiano, vermentino, tempranillo, and sangiovese—varieties that wouldn’t have seemed at home here a generation ago but now do—are examples of the place’s obstinate experimentation streak.
The fact that the entire experience remains unpretentious is noteworthy. Unlike some older parts of Europe, the cellar doors do not rely heavily on formality. Tastings at Down the Rabbit Hole take place inside an old-fashioned double-decker bus parked among the vines. This may seem like a gimmick, but once you sit there with a glass of grenache, you realize how effective it is. In contrast, the d’Arenberg Cube, a five-story building shaped like a Rubik’s cube that houses a restaurant, gallery, and museum that somehow blends in with the surrounding vineyards, is impossible to miss from the road.
It’s difficult to ignore how the area has avoided overcorrecting into theme park territory, which is a trap that many “discovered” destinations fall victim to. On Saturday mornings, Willunga’s farmers market continues to operate as usual, with locals purchasing produce alongside the occasional visitor who happened to stroll down from a winery. Perhaps part of the appeal is that the pace hasn’t increased to keep up with the growing attention. Even as more tourists arrive, there is an unforced quality to a location that isn’t performing for them yet.
It’s still genuinely unclear if McLaren Vale will completely overtake the Barossa. Regional reputations change gradually, and many tourists continue to choose the more well-known name without realizing that there is a less than an hour-long alternative that is just as appealing. However, the elements that work in its favor—coastal scenery, ancient vines, simple cellar doors, and food that values the produce—are difficult to produce elsewhere.
It’s evident that those who do make it here seldom consider it a one-stop shop. They return, frequently after first telling a friend. Though it usually sticks, that kind of word-of-mouth growth is typically slower than a viral headline. McLaren Vale isn’t changing to attract attention. Travelers are finally realizing that the trip has been worthwhile for some time.
