Hattingley: The Mistakes That Made Us

Everybody makes mistakes, and in a young, fast‑maturing industry like English wine, those missteps are often the very things that shape our identity. 

Over the past decade, England has gone from a niche curiosity to a thriving winemaking centre, with vineyard plantings and production rising significantly in recent years. Last year, the equivalent of over 16.5 million bottles were produced in England and Wales, a 55% increase on the year before. The number of registered vineyards continues to grow, and English wines are now celebrated domestically and ever increasingly abroad.

We’ll be the first to hold our hands up and say: yes, we’ve made mistakes, but they’ve pushed us to innovate, grow, and play a part in one of the most exciting chapters in English wine.

Join us as our owner Simon Robinson recounts the mistakes that made us (some costly, and some just for fun), and how they taught us lessons that still influence how we make wine today.

A Dip in the Vineyard

One of our earliest lessons in viticulture came before a single vine had been planted. 

Back in 2008, our first vineyard was being planted by an experienced German team led by Ernst. On a cold, blustery day, the team stood ready to begin when Ernst came over looking rather concerned. He pointed out a large dip running through the middle of the field that was causing problems with the laser-guided planting equipment.

I had to admit, it wasn’t a dip we’d ever really noticed before. But now, it was impossible to ignore. And so, I did what any sane Brit does when faced with a seemingly unsolvable problem, and headed inside for a cup of tea.

While thawing out, I mentioned the problem to a neighbour who lived next to the vineyard. I explained that we had a large hole running through the middle of the field, not an issue for wheat perhaps, but potentially one for vines.

“Aha,” he said. “Do you know what that is?”

I didn’t.

As it turned out, the dip had nothing to do with farming at all. According to our neighbour, it dated back to the Second World War, when part of a bomb load had been dropped over the area after a night raid over southern England. Suddenly, our awkward patch of land made a lot more sense.

Having discovered the wartime origins of the dip, I couldn't resist reporting back to Ernst.

'Well, Ernst,' I said, 'I've found out how that hole got there. It seems one of your predecessors left it behind, so I reckon it's only fair that you sort it out.'

Thankfully, Ernst had both an excellent sense of humour and a considerable skill in planting vines. He and the team took it in their stride, planting the vineyard beautifully, keeping the rows remarkably straight and ensuring the dip caused no long-term issues.

It was an early reminder that every field has a history beneath it and that in English wine, the unexpected can often become part of the story.

The Year the Weather Won

Anyone involved in English wine will remember the summer of 2012. It was the year of the London Olympics and, perhaps determined to challenge the nation’s optimism, the weather delivered one of the coolest and wettest summers on record. It may have suited marathon runners and sprinters, but it was disastrous for grape growers.

By the time harvest approached, it was painfully clear that the fruit simply wasn’t going to ripen to a usable quality. It remains the worst harvest we have ever experienced, and hopefully ever will.

As we surveyed the vines, our French consultant offered his assessment.

“You know, what you should do with these grapes, Simon?”

 “No,” I replied gloomily.

“Put them in a shotgun and use them to shoot pigeons.”

It was not exactly the uplifting advice I had been hoping for. But, he was right, the fruit was unusable, and there was no miracle waiting around the corner.

Growers across the country faced the same reality.

As disappointing as 2012 was, it forced us to rethink our approach. Up until then, we had relied entirely on our own vineyards. Afterwards, we began working with growers across England to reduce risk and improve consistency.

At first, it was a practical decision: spreading our grape sourcing would help protect us from the financial risk of catastrophic weather years. If one vineyard struggled, perhaps another would fare better. What we discovered, however, was something much more valuable.

Working with different vineyards across different regions could bring different characteristics, giving our winemakers far more blending options and greater complexity. We often describe it as giving the winemaker “a broader palette of colours to paint with”.

Over time, these grower relationships have become one of the foundations of Hattingley Valley. We work closely with them in long-term partnerships, and we are proud that many are now very much a part of our extended winemaking family.

Ultimately, the proof is in the bottle. The quality of our wines today owe a great deal to those growers (and that one very wet English summer).

Finding Room to Grow

Perhaps our biggest oversight over the years has been underestimating how much space we’d need.

When we built the winery in 2010 on a former chicken farm, we assumed the Barrel Barn and what are now our tasting rooms, would be sufficient for our entire production. With the rest of the site intended to be rented out as industrial units.

That idea didn't last long.

Even during our first vintage, additional buildings were already being taken over by tanks and storage. Before long, it became clear we needed the entire site to ourselves. 

More than fifteen years later, we are proud to have one of the most established wineries in the UK, with the space to continue evolving without the need for relocation. Whether that was foresight or luck is still open to debate.

Progress in Practice

Today, English wine remains a relatively young industry, and with that comes a constant process of learning, adaptation and refinement. 

Looking back, we wouldn't necessarily choose to repeat the mistakes we've made. But each one taught us something valuable, whether about vineyards, winemaking or the importance of adapting when things don't go to plan.

What remains consistent is the need to stay responsive, to site, season and circumstance, and to continue to improve from one vintage to the next.

That ongoing refinement is as much a part of English wine as it is of our wines themselves.