The morning sun is already high in the translucent sky and a gentle, chilling breeze sweeps the endless plains on the outskirts of Yinchuan, the capital of Ningxia. As the mist slowly evaporates, exposing a breathtaking view of the rugged Helan Mountains, scores of women dressed in jeans, light jumpers and colourful veils crouch along rows of vines, expertly cutting the dark-coloured, ripe grapes and collecting them in greenplastic cases. It’s harvest time, the most important period of the year in this small autonomous region at the gate of the Gobi desert.

Looking at Ningxia’s majestic peaks and orderly vines stretching as far as the eye can see, it is difficult to imagine that, a little more than 20 years ago, the region was just a forlorn stretch of sand inhabited by subsistence farmers. “When I was a kid I used to dig holes in the desert. I would hide there and play together with my friends”, remembers 41-year-old Ren Yanling while sitting in her laboratory during a rare break.

This energetic, hardworking woman was born in the village of Yuquanying, close to the Helan Mountain vineyard where she now works as chief winemaker for the famous French multinational Pernod Ricard. “When I was 15 I would sneak out to have a sip of the wine my parents were making,” she recounts laughing. “My parents didn’t allow me to drink, but I really enjoyed it.”

Sharp, confident and with a characteristic penetrating gaze, Ren is part of a group of strong-willed, talented owners, winemakers and managers who are leading China’s wine revolution. Thanks to their vision and commitment, what was once a poverty-stricken rural province has turned into winemaking’s new frontier.

Ningxia nowadays hosts more than 40,000 hectares of vines and 199 wineries, the majority of them small boutique estates focused on high-quality vintages with an average production of less than 100,000 bottles per year each. Ningxia’s wines have already won several prestigious international competitions and are sold in top restaurants, hotels and stores from Europe to Australia, from North America to Dubai, Hong Kong and the UK.

The beginnings weren’t really promising. China’s modern relationship with wine has developed only since the 1980s, when the government decided to discourage the widespread consumption of baijiu, the traditional grain-based liquors which were diverting millions of tons of precious staple food for the production of alcohol. Chinese state officials started praising the health benefits of wine instead, while technicians and agrarians travelled to Europe to acquaint themselves with a product nobody was really familiar with.

“At that time China was producing a blend of grape juice, sweetener and alcohol. It wasn’t exactly wine,”

Nowadays Ningxia is abuzz with pioneers hoping to turn wine into the next gold rush, just like in the legendary Wild West. Some of their wineries are prefabricated metal cubes opened by aficionados with limited means but a serious passion for wine, while others are grandiose chateaux built in classic French style. Among the latter is Changyu Moser XV, an impressive 70-million-euro fairytale castle surrounded by 66 hectares of vineyards and featuring a cinema and a wine museum.

The winery is a joint venture between Changyu, China’s oldest wine producer, and chief winemaker Lenz Maria Moser, the 62-year-old descendant of one of Austria’s most famous winemaking families. “I am deeply convinced that, over time, we can really produce world-class wines here,” explains Moser, who wants to turn Changyu Moser XV into one of the world’s best wineries in just a few years time. “Our products are already sold in more than 25 countries and we want to go even more global. China needs to benchmark itself internationally in order to be successful on the home front.”

“We must not forget that wine is a cultural product. Let’s think about it as a window to communicate with the others rather than just focusing on its economic value,”