Labels can feel almost designed to make you feel stupid, especially the European ones, all places and words you can't pronounce and no obvious clue what's inside. There's one trick that clears up most of the confusion.
Old World wines, meaning Europe, tend to name the place. New World wines, meaning more or less everywhere else, (South Africa, South America, Australia) tend to name the grape.
So an Australian bottle will often just say Shiraz, and you know exactly what you're getting. A French bottle might say Burgundy and tell you nothing about the grape at all, because in France the place is assumed to tell you. Red Burgundy is Pinot Noir. Barolo, from Italy, is made from a grape called Nebbiolo. Rioja, from Spain, is mostly Tempranillo. The place implies the grape, once you know the code.
You don't need the whole map. A loose feel for a few countries goes a long way. France is the old reference point, the one everything else is in conversation with, either leaning on it or pushing against it. A bit like the Latin of wine. Italy is endlessly regional, a different grape and tradition every hour you drive. Spain quietly offers some of the best value there is. And the New World, the Americas, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, tends to give you riper, fruitier, more upfront wine that's easy to enjoy without requiring aging.
None of it is better or worse, old or new. It's like classical vs. jazz. Both can be wonderful, both can be dull, and it depends entirely on who made it and whether they cared.
