Old vines make for a tricky 19th hole at the Moonah Links golf course!

It's Monday morning rush hour but the Melbourne roads are clear because it's Labour Day. So, a smooth start to our journey through the winelands of northern Victoria.

Spent the weekend with the 'rellys' as they say here. The in-laws. And their baby vineyard on the sand dunes of Mornington Peninsula. A very cool climate zone. The wind blows constantly. Mostly straight from the Antarctic. Their little vines are having to be very brave. On top of the daily buffeting they have to cope with the driest year ever. They are irrigated of course but that drips straight to the roots. The leaves would dearly love a little moisture in the atmosphere. But they will survive somehow. Amazingly resilient plants, vines. Next to the vineyard is a golf course; Moonah Links where the Australian Open is played. Its a new course and where the sixth fairway now is used to be a vineyard. And it's driving the groundsmen nuts. Whatever they do, those old vines keep sprouting again and again through the immaculate grass! Vines are that tough.

Tony Jordan came down on Saturday from the Yarra Valley where he has run Moët et Chandon's Australian winery; Green Point, for 20 years. Knows what he's talking about Tony does - and he said the vineyard was just right for producing a good sparkling wine. Just as well because its planted with the Champagne trio of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier ... to make a sparkler.

Stayed with Tony and Michelle last night in the Yarra. Talked of old times. It was with Tony that Laithwaites started the phenomenon called 'Flying Winemakers'. Back then Dr. Jordan was an immensely respected consultant and teacher. One of the leading lights of the industry in the sixties/seventies when Australian wine began its amazing climb from being a joke to being the most dominant and influential voice in wine. Just a few blokes did it. I'll get him to write the

There was I, '86 vintage in my Bordeaux winery at La Clarière, stirring the starter yeast in a bucket and in walks Jordan. " G'day, G'day. What in *****'s name you think you are doing? Give it here, you ******. Pom" With those immortal words was born the notion of Aussies and other antipodeans generously giving up their winter holidays in Europe to show us Euros (or Brits at any rate!) how to make wine.

The following vintage Tony sent over the first 'flyer' and in the next years we made huge amounts of fresh, super-fruity lively wines in those cellars where only dull flat stuff had been before. Tony himself was snapped up by Moët to launch their Aussie venture. So he never got to 'fly' himself. Pity. Tony retires from Moët this year. Am sure he'd like to get back to showing us how to do it.

Anyway ... off to Ned Kelly country, the wilds of northern Victoria. story one day. My involvement came later.

Dr. Johnson, I presume ... a chance encounter in Queenstown, New Zealand

New Zealand has been short on rain but today it is 'The Land of the Long WET Cloud'. Here in Queenstown, Central Otago, up in the mountains of South Island, the far lake shore has vanished and the mountains they call 'The Remarkables' have become 'The Invisibles'. Flying in up the valley today would be mighty hazardous. And the second most popular pursuit here; bungee-jumping will be interesting!

Luckily we are not here to jump off bridges but to dive into wine. And a big tasting of a choice pick of the local wonder-wines has been laid on. Not for me. Though I shall benefit. But for the man many wine producers here and everywhere, consider a god; Hugh Johnson.

Hugh and Judy are here. And I am here. Its not often our paths have crossed in the 34 years we have been working together. Apart from his writings Hugh has been President of The Sunday Times Wine Club since we set it up in 1973. So we taste and talk together a lot. But to bump into each other on our separate orbits is rare.

12.00 Arrowtown is an old mining village somewhat changed from its gold-mining days;
I doubt those old C19 miners were really into ceramics, jewellery, watercolours, and tea rooms. Things move on. I have great friends here; David and Barbara Thomas. David is the Australian (very) who came to me in '81 and said he liked my wine business so much he'd like to copy it. And did. So bloody successfully we had to completely re-think our business and work like maniacs just to compete. But we are still huge mates and luckily for me he’s retired.

The Post Master's House is the best restaurant for miles around so funnily enough that's where David has arranged this tasting and where we meet Hugh and Judy just in from Fjord-land or Middle Earth as its sometimes now called. At 45 degrees south (Same as Bordeaux in the north) this is the world’s southernmost wine region. It is also the wine world’s newest star. Having shot to fame only in the late 90's. I don’t know of any other region that from the start sold its wines for £17 a bottle. And could not keep up with demand.

Not bad for a region where almost all experts agreed wine production could never happen. The New Zealand government were kind enough to give me a guided tour of all their vineyards in 1984. Central Otago wasn't on the tour. It wasn’t even mentioned.

Isn't it wonderful when a few crazies confound 'the experts'? Makes life worth living. Last time I was here in 2001 it had barely started and the majority of the vineyards were so young they hadn't yet fruited. Alan Brady is the region’s elder statesman. One who confounded the experts. So he gave the speech of welcome.

Nick Mills of Rippon was also there. It was his late father planted the first wines here in '74. A lakeside vineyard so beautiful you've probably seen photos of it. Austrian Kiwi Rudi Bauer was also there and Blair Walter of Felton Road who set up the event ... And has been hugely successful. We can’t get enough. We sampled Rieslings, Pinot Gris, Chardonnays and of course lots of Pinot Noir. I’m not putting all my notes here suffice to say all had the piercing mineral fruit aromas which the schist soils up here seem to produce so effortlessly with the help of a climate that produces not only the coldest recorded nights in New Zealand but also the hottest days. High diurnal temperature ... very important if you want fruitiness, that. Hugh was so impressed that he promised, in the next edition of his Wine Atlas, that C.O. will get its own page. Central Otago, you have arrived!

Dressing up in silly robes … I blame Laithwaites customers

The other evening, they made me a knight. A Spanish knight. I am now a ‘Caballero’. That translates as ‘knight’ I think … not ‘horse’!? I checked the dictionary. Behind my bedroom door now hangs a long medieval-style scarlet robe - more colourful than any of Barbara’s dresses.

It was the Grand Annual Banquet of The Order of Caballeros del Vino. Bit of a blow-out just before Lent. All the Great and Good of the wine world. This year The Observer’s Tim Atkin and I were “rewarded for our contribution to Spanish wine” – but as I told them, it’s Laithwaites customers who deserve the real thanks and congratulations (don’t worry this was no teary, Oscars-style acceptance).

The acting Spanish Ambassador told me he was worried about Spain having no more than 10% of the ‘difficult’ British market. I suggested he shouldn’t worry too much as almost 20% of Laithwaites sales are now Spanish and we have always been a good indicator of the way wine generally is heading.

Something to do with our customers being more ‘wine-aware’ and also more adventurous than most. It is clear to us that Spanish wine is re-inventing itself at a cracking rate. When I look back it is an extraordinary story.

A couple of hours reckless driving takes you from Bordeaux to the Spanish border at San Sebastián. I did that for the first time in 1972. I only went as far as San Sebastián - not really a wine town - but there met a big , friendly, young Basque called Tony Barrero who sold me some nice Rioja and an incredibly cheap table wine from Jumilla called Monte Alegre.

The ‘Monty’ immediately became our top selling wine and container loads of bottles sailed monthly from Bilbao. Which I believe was the first time any volume of Table Wine was imported to Britain in bottles rather than tankers. At last night’s do they first served a lovely Rioja with the beef. But then they capped it with ... yes, a Jumilla (which, after a glass or two can be pronounced ‘Hugh Millya’. )

I had always believed from that first trip - that Spain had far more hidden glories than just Rioja and Sherry. And we’ve seriously dedicated ourselves to discovering more. ‘If it's got a D.O. we’ve shipped it” is our motto. Of course we also do loads of Rioja. It was so difficult to sell in the early days! So cheap, it was. Then the prices doubled and sales rocketed. Crazy world; wine.

Anyway tomorrow is a big Management Meeting. I plan a Grand Entrance in Full Regalia! Got to get more respect from my lot. Maybe if I wear it to Waitrose will I get a discount on my Manchego cheese?