Kentish wine

As a wine bore, holidays abroad are a battle with the family to cram in as many vineyard visits as possible when all they want to do is go to the beach. But it’s only recently that I have begun to take advantage of the riches on my doorstep. I wonder how many Londoners realise that half an hour from St Pancras is one of the world’s most dynamic wine regions — Kent.

My previous reluctance might have something to do with the weather. As you leave London on the M20, there always seems to be a moment of sunshine that lights up the countryside before it starts to rain again. No matter. While many wine regions can be ugly — the Médoc is a drained swamp — Kent is lovely, even in the drizzle. Rather than a monoculture of vines, there’s a varied landscape of rolling hills, woods, fruit orchards (it is, after all, the ‘garden of England’), and occasional vineyards. The climate may be similar to champagne, but the feel is more like another part of France: Gascony.

On our last trip to the seaside, I insisted we stop at Biddenden estate near Ashford. The winemaker Julian Barnes (no relation to the novelist) showed me around. His family began as apple growers (they still make cider), but on a whim, his father planted vines in the 1960s. One in particular thrived: Ortega. This German variety makes undistinguished wine in its home country, but in Kent’s marginal climate it not only ripens reliably but produces something delicious.

It’s sparkling wines in the image of champagne, however, that are England’s speciality. The champagne grapes of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Pinot Meunier have found a second home on the South Downs. But despite climate change, you still have to be a bit mad to grow vines in England.