Before flying solo, Kevin Grant had spent 10 vintages - 1995 to 2004 - at Hamilton Russell Vineyards. He'd come to the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley (Afrikaans for 'heaven and earth') from Bonnievale, where he'd worked two vintages at Weltevrede, owned by the industry regulatory body KWV executive Lourens Jonker.
The sociable Kevin had quickly adapted to small-town familiarity, which he'd first encountered immediately upon arriving in the area. He'd overshot the notoriously sudden turn-off into the Weltevrede farmyard and pulled into a filling station in the humble hamlet of nearby Bonnievale, with all his worldly possessions piled into his yellow vintage Volkswagen Beetle. Regarded with great, if puzzling interest by the petrol attendant, he was eventually asked in Afrikaans: 'Meneer [Mister], is meneer not maybe meneer Jonker's new winemaker?'
'I hadn't even arrived on the farm and even the petroljoggie [petrol attendant] knew who I was!' And he hadn't intended moving on so soon.
'My experience there was amazing, dealing with so many different varieties and wines, including some serious chardonnays. But I simply fell in love with the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley and its wines on my very first visit.' He was to fall in love with Burgundy too.
His position took him to the French home of chardonnay and pinot noir in 1995 to work a vintage at Domaine Jacques Prieur, with Grand Cru vineyards in all the great appellations, from Chambertin to Corton, Montrachet to Meursault.
'It's just wonderful. You walk down the street in these quaint little villages and there's red juice running down the road, which has been temporarily closed. Some guy tells you it's because a vintner is cleaning out his red wine barrels.
'You're up at dawn, work until about 9 a.m. and then sit down for a big breakfast with the grower, his family, whoever's helping with the harvest. Then you work some more, break for lunch, and there's another spread, this time with wine. And then after the afternoon's work - the sun sets quite late, about 9 p.m. - there's dinner; more food, more wine. Winemaking, wine, and food, family and friends; it's simply a way of life there.·
'You don't go to Burgundy and return unchanged. '
While embracing the Hemel-en-Aarde’s southerly site, he had also realised the equally pre-eminent role of soil in determining the style of the wine. 'We're not winemakers or viticulturists really, we're soil farmers.'
It kept Kevin in the valley and serendipitously him to the ridge of geologically ancient sandstone, granite, and shale soils where he's planted six hectares each of chardonnay and pinot noir, with a further six of each pending.
Ataraxia is and shall remain small: only some 6000 cases of wine were produced in 2012, still vinified from a combination of own and bought-in cool-climate fruit in rented cellar space. These include some ‘radical’ sites like the chardonnay vineyard about 1000 meters above sea level on the Agterwitzenberg peak in the Winterhoek mountains near Ceres, owned by the MacDonald and Jeffrey families.
'Hanli and I had started Ataraxia as a virtual brand. My plan was to initially source grapes from cool-climate sites and rent cellar space. We never expected to find our own land so soon.'
A farm owner had divided his property into four 50-hectare entities and Kevin and Hanli approached a friend to go into partnership. 'He brought along his brother, who turned out to be a guy I'd known at varsity!' They became silent partners.