2023 Purple Hands Planta Circa Grenache
2023 Tim Smith Mataro
Sorby Adams 2021 Le Verrier Shiraz
2023 Gibson Wines Nero D'Avola
2019 Purple Hands After Five Serata
2021 Brockenchack Zip Line Shiraz

The biting winter of 176 CE had descended upon the Pannonian frontier. In the Emperor’s praetorium, the last drops of a Barossa red, a ghost of the previous year's warmth, were poured. Marcus Aurelius, setting down his pen and his Meditations, watched the final crimson swirl in his goblet. “The reserves are spent,” General Lucius Vorenus stated, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very tent poles. He was polishing his gladius, the rhythmic scrape of whetstone on steel a counterpoint to the howling wind. “And not a moment too soon,” sighed Senator Gaius Marcellus, pulling his furs tighter. “Another week of this Danube water and my palate will be as rustic as a legionary’s boot. Emperor, the banquet to celebrate the Sarmatian truce is upon us. We cannot possibly serve the usual Falernian. The Prefect’s wife is still talking about the ‘ethereal nectar’ from our last gathering. We have a reputation to maintain!”

Marcus looked from the pragmatic soldier to the preening senator, a faint smile touching his lips. “Reputation is a fleeting echo, Gaius. But the pursuit of excellence is a worthy endeavour. The rift awaits.” He rose, his gaze firm. “Tonight, we seek a new harvest. One that speaks not of reputation, but of character, resilience, and perhaps, a little novelty.” Under a sliver of moon, the trio saddled their faithful mounts—Caesar, Titan, and Luna—and rode towards the shimmering tear in time, leaving the frozen plains of Pannonia for the sun-kissed hills of the Barossa Valley in the year 2025.

2023 Purple Hands Planta Circa Grenache
Their first destination was a vineyard of ancient, gnarled vines rooted in deep sand over clay. Craig Stansborough of Purple Hands Wines met them, his hands stained with the work of the vintage. He poured a Grenache that glowed in the glass with the clarity of a perfect ruby. Marcus inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. “Raspberries, wild herbs, and a whisper of rose petal,” he murmured, opening them again. “These vines… ‘Planta circa’… planted around 1885, you say?” He looked at the twisted trunks. “They have endured more than a century of seasons. They do not shout their strength; they radiate it. This is the quiet confidence of true character.” Lucius took a long swallow, his stern face breaking into a rare grin. “It has a general’s authority but a diplomat’s grace. It fills the mouth without weighing it down. A commander could drink this all night while planning a campaign and still have a clear head for the dawn attack.” “Oh, it’s sublime!” Gaius purred, swirling the wine dramatically. “The tannins are like powdered silk. This would make a dish of roasted larks sing. Our heavy, honeyed wines would simply crush such a delicacy. Craig, you are not a winemaker; you are a sculptor of light and air!” He turned to Marcus. “Twelve bottles are not enough. We need twenty-four! Marcus nodded, a glint in his eye. “A prudent suggestion, Gaius. Twelve for the banquet, and twelve for the Meditations.” As Lucius counted out the gold aurii, Marcus made a note: True strength is not force, but endurance. Like the old vine, it draws its power from deep, unseen places.

2023 Tim Smith Mataro
Next, they sought out Tim Smith, a man whose reputation for crafting wines of integrity preceded him. He led them to a cellar where he poured a dark, brooding Mataro. “This is a soldier’s wine,” Lucius grunted in immediate approval, before Marcus or Gaius could even raise their glasses. He savoured the dark fruit, the scent of earth and cured meat. “It’s honest. No tricks. It tastes of the soil and the sun. It reminds me of the blood-dark wines of Hispania, but without their brutishness. This has discipline.” Gaius sniffed it cautiously. “It has a certain… rustic charm, I suppose. A bit more savage than I prefer, but I can see it standing up to a wild boar stew, heavy with garlic and herbs. It would certainly silence any critics.” Marcus smiled at their exchange. “Every man sees himself in the wine, it seems. I see its structure, Tim. The 2023 vintage was mild, allowing this Mataro to ripen without losing its savoury edge. It is a lesson in balance. Power requires a framework to be effective. Without it, it is merely chaos.” He tasted it, his expression thoughtful. “A noble wine, forged with patience. Twelve bottles for Rome.”

Sorby Adams 2021 Le Verrier Shiraz
Their journey took them to the higher altitudes of the Eden Valley, where the air was cooler and the soils were rocky. At Sorby Adams, Simon Adams poured his 2021 ‘Le Verrier’ Shiraz. “Le Verrier?” Gaius enquired, his brow furrowed. “The astronomer who predicted the existence of Neptune through mathematics? An auspicious name. Are we to discover a new star in this bottle?” Upon tasting the deep purple liquid, his question was answered. “By the gods, perhaps we have! The elegance! Blackberries, a hint of pepper, and a scent like rain on hot stone. It is as precise and profound as a philosopher’s argument.” “The rocky soil gives it a mineral spine,” Marcus observed, swirling the wine. “Adversity crafts character, both in men and in vines. The struggle to survive in this unforgiving ground has yielded not harshness, but focus and intensity. It is far more articulate than our powerful, sun-baked Caecuban.” Lucius simply nodded, a look of deep satisfaction on his face. “A fine wine for a victory feast.” Twelve more aurii were exchanged for a case of the celestial Shiraz.

2023 Gibson Wines Nero D'Avola
“Now for something unexpected,” Rob Gibson announced, greeting them with a mischievous smile. He poured a wine with a vibrant, almost electric crimson hue. “Nero D'Avola. A taste of Sicily, grown here in the Barossa.” Gaius was intrigued. “A Sicilian grape, thriving so far from its home? This is an outrage against nature… and it is utterly delicious!” He delighted in the bright cherry and licorice notes. “It has the soul of the Mediterranean! It’s cheerful, bold, and demands a feast of olives, cured meats, and freshly baked bread.” “Adaptable,” Marcus noted, impressed by the wine’s bright acidity and fine tannins. “It has taken the essence of this land and retained its own identity. A lesson for any Roman governor sent to a new province. It does not surrender its character; it enriches its new home.” He found its youthful energy a refreshing contrast to the more ponderous wines of his era. “A case for the forward thinkers at the banquet.”

2019 Purple Hands After Five Serata
They returned to see Craig Stansborough, who was waiting with a different bottle. “I heard you were back,” he said. “You must try this. Our ‘After Five Serata’.” “‘After Five Serata’?” Gaius repeated, puzzled. “An evening party after the fifth hour? Is this a wine specifically for the start of a banquet?” Craig laughed. “You could say that. It’s a blend of Grenache, Shiraz, and Mataro. It’s for when the work is done and it’s time to relax.” Lucius drained his cup. “He’s right. This is dangerously easy to drink. Fruity, smooth. No need for deep thoughts or long speeches. It’s a wine for soldiers in the barracks after a long march, not for generals in a war council.” He gestured for a refill. “I approve.” “It speaks of harmony,” Marcus said, enjoying the seamless blend of red fruits and gentle spice from the 2019 vintage. “Three distinct grapes, each contributing its voice to create a single, pleasing chorus. A model for the Senate, perhaps.” He smiled at Gaius, who was too busy enjoying the wine to take the bait. “A case of this pleasantry will be perfect for the opening libations.”

2021 Brockenchack Zip Line Shiraz
Their final stop was a return to Brockenchack in the Eden Valley, where Trev Harch greeted them like old friends. “I’ve got the one for your general here,” he said, pouring the 2021 Zip Line Shiraz. “Zip Line?” Gaius looked horrified. “Is that not the contraption where you barbarians hurl yourselves from a great height along a wire for amusement? You’ve named a wine after it?” “It’s about the thrill,” Trev grinned. “The energy.” The wine was indeed energetic—a burst of vibrant plum and black cherry, with a spicy kick. Lucius laughed, a rare, booming sound. “He’s right! It’s a cavalry charge in a bottle! A swift, thrilling ride. I’ll take it!” Marcus appreciated the metaphor. “It is direct, exhilarating, and leaves a lasting impression. It does not meander; it arrives. A fine expression of Eden Valley Shiraz from a cooler year, full of life.” He turned to Gaius. “You see? Even a seemingly barbaric concept can produce a thing of civilized pleasure.” Gaius sniffed. “I shall drink it, but I shall not be strapping myself to any wires.”

With their seventy-two bottles secured—a diverse collection of old-vine wisdom, disciplined power, celestial elegance, and pure, unadulterated joy—the three Romans rode back towards the portal. The gold was spent, but they carried with them a treasure far greater: a new story of the Barossa, ready to be told at the Emperor’s table, set to astonish and delight the palates of Rome once more.

Products

Gibson Wines "Duke" Grenache

Purple Hands Planta Circa Ancestor Vine Grenache

Rojomoma Red Art 2008 Grenache Shiraz

Soul Growers "Persistence" Grenache

Winter 2025 Collection

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