DRINK

If the Barossa is Bordeaux and the Hunter is Tuscany, then the Granite Belt is... well, it’s still waiting for someone to notice it’s on the map. Tucked into Queensland’s high country like a bottle of Pinot Noir in a VB fridge, the Granite Belt doesn’t shout. It doesn’t even raise its voice. But oh, it speaks.

Perched over 800 metres above sea level, this is cool-climate wine country—yes, in Queensland—where grapes get a proper winter and vintners wear scarves without irony. It’s not the sunburnt flatland you expect; it’s frost-kissed, granite-strewn, and dripping with promise. And the wines? Shockingly good. Enough to make you double-check the label and mutter, “Queensland, really?”

Start at Ballandean Estate, the grand dame of the region and oldest winery still pouring. Their Shiraz is muscular but polite, like an old R.M. Williams boot that’s been to finishing school. Then slide down the road to Golden Grove Estate, where the Verdelho sings and the winemaker is on a quiet mission to convert every passing caravan club into believers in Strange Birds—that’s what they call their alt-varietals, with names that sound like obscure poets or failed Bond villains: Tempranillo, Barbera, Saperavi.

Down a winding road flanked by granite boulders and the occasional suspiciously smug kangaroo, you’ll find Ravenscroft Wines. Now, full disclosure, I am a personal friend of the previous owner, Mark Ravenscroft. Numerous times I've slept on his pull-out sofa in the cellar door of his once solo operation after a large night of great wine and watching football or Rugby Union. It is now a boutique outfit where the winemaking is hands-on, heart-led, and happily free of corporate gloss, run by Caitlin and Nick Roberts. They have not had the pleasure of me sleeping in their cellar door, yet. The cellar door is modest, the welcome warm, and the wines? Impressive, particularly the Cabernet Sauvignon, which drinks like it’s been raised on classical music and private education. 

Just nearby, Tobin Wines takes a more monastic approach here, each varietal is a soloist, not part of a chorus, and the labels are named after real people, not marketing departments. Their Isabella Semillon and Luella Merlot are clean, precise, and utterly unpretentious. Think old-world elegance with an Australian backbone. Together, they prove that the Granite Belt doesn’t just do wine, it does it with soul. 

Finish at Ridgemill Estate, which is half winery, half artist’s retreat. Their Sangiovese Rosé is a pink slap in the face on a hot afternoon, and you can sleep it off in a chic little cabin tucked among the vines.

Yes, the cellar doors might creak. The road signage is optional. But the Granite Belt doesn’t need polish. It has personality, altitude, and a quiet confidence that says, “You’ll be back.” And you will. Probably with a car boot full of bottles and a renewed respect for Queensland that has absolutely nothing to do with rugby league.