Welcome to the first of these newsletters sent on the road. I’ve just got back to mainland Portugal after two inspiring and eye-opening days on Pico island. My paid subscribers motivate me to publish these reports and support my work in general. You can become one today!
I’m surrounded by an almost metre-high pile of volcanic rubble, standing in the hollowed out crater formed in its centre. To get here, we clambered for 15 or 20 minutes across centuries old lava-stone walls in various states of repair. Winemaker André Ribeiro gently touches a single wizened vine that spreads its branches around the crater’s floor. “These plants remind me of Halloween” he says, referring to the way the vines’ arms protrude out in ghoulish, exaggerated angles”. The vine is at least 100 years old, and still producing fruit.
“Now imagine harvesting here” he adds. I found it hard enough to scramble around the tumble-down walls and snaking vines without tripping. Carrying a 25kg crate of grapes back to the road sounded like an Azorean assault course. Yet Ribeiro says this is his favourite vineyard. He’s currently trying to charm the 71 year old owner – already unable to do most of the vineyard work by himself – so he has a chance of taking it over one day.
I wouldn’t say the phrase “heroic viticulture” is over-used, but there is a profusion of regions deploying the term as their marketing these days – Etna or Cinque Terre in Italy, the steep slopes of
This Article was originally published on The Morning Claret
