The vine is one of humanity’s greatest travelers. Wherever people migrated, grapevines followed — tucked into ships, wrapped in damp cloth, or carefully replanted from memories of home. As settlers searched for familiar tastes in foreign lands, they unknowingly created new expressions of wine.
Each vineyard tells two intertwined stories: one of soil and climate, and one of people and their journeys.
From Europe to the Americas: Vines Crossing Oceans
When Spanish and Portuguese explorers set sail to the New World in the 1500s, they carried grapevines with them. Wine was essential — for religion, celebration, and daily life.
In Chile, missionaries planted País (originally from Spain, known there as Listán Prieto). It adapted beautifully to Chile’s dry climate and volcanic soils, and today, old-vine País is making a comeback after centuries in the shadows.
In Argentina, those early vines crossed the Andes, followed later by European immigrants — mainly Italians and Spaniards — who transformed viticulture. They improved irrigation, built cellars, and refined local varieties like Malbec, which thrived in Mendoza’s high-altitude desert.
Across the Americas, vines that once clung to the rocky hills of Spain and Portugal found new homes in lands with abundant sun, mountain air, and pioneering spirit.
French Roots in Unexpected Soils
The French influence on global wine culture is immense — not only through exported bottles but through exported vines.
In South Africa, French Huguenots fleeing religious persecution in the 17th century arrived in the Cape, bringing vine cuttings and deep viticultural knowledge. Their heritage lives on in regions like Franschhoek (literally “French Corner”), where old-world grapes flourished in Mediterranean-like conditions.
In Chile, Carmenère — a nearly extinct Bordeaux variety — was rediscovered thriving under the Andes, mistakenly labeled as Merlot for decades. The terroir shaped its rebirth, turning a forgotten French grape into Chile’s signature wine.
These stories highlight how a grape’s identity can change completely when given new soil and sunlight — and how human migration revives traditions across continents.
Italian Heart, Global Soil
Wherever Italians emigrated, vines weren’t far behind. Their love for family meals, small vineyards, and community helped shape new wine cultures abroad.
In Argentina, Italian settlers (especially from Piedmont and Veneto) brought their skills in pruning, blending, and crafting everyday table wines. They worked side by side with Spanish immigrants, establishing the foundation for Argentina’s thriving family-run bodegas.
In Australia, Italian farmers planted vines in regions like Victoria and South Australia, introducing Mediterranean techniques that thrived in the sun-baked soil.
Their greatest contribution wasn’t a single grape variety, but a philosophy: living in harmony with the land and sharing wine as part of daily life.
New Zealand & The British Connection
When British settlers arrived in New Zealand in the 1800s, they brought vine cuttings and European winemaking ambitions. The cool, maritime climate was challenging at first — until later generations discovered that certain grapes, especially Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir, loved the crisp air and long sunlight of the islands.
Though these weren’t native vines, their success created one of the world’s most distinctive modern wine identities — a perfect example of how climate and soil can transform imported varieties into something completely new.
How Soil and Climate Create Connection
What unites these stories is not only migration, but adaptation.
When vines travel, they don’t just survive — they evolve.
The Malbec of Bordeaux found a new voice in Mendoza’s dry mountain air.
The Carmenère of France rediscovered itself in Chile’s volcanic valleys.
The Chenin Blanc of the Loire became a South African classic under the Cape sun.
Each transformation shows how nature and human movement intertwine: the soil and climate may be new, but the desire to cultivate, ferment, and share remains universal.
Grapes have always been quiet ambassadors of culture — carrying memory, tradition, and curiosity across continents. When immigrants planted them in foreign soils, they planted hope, too. The result is a world where wines echo each other across oceans, connecting people not only through flavor but through shared human stories.