Red, red wine
A version of this article about the Rioja Alavesa region of northern Spain appeared in The Irish Times
The Marqués de Riscal winery in Elciego, Rioja Alavesa
"Do something understated," said the Marqués. "You know, nothing too showy."
"Something like this?" Canadian architect Frank Gehry said.
"Er. . . . ah, go on then."
THE WINE-WAITER in Laguardia-Biasteri told me he’d lost his sommelier’s Gold Badge. Summarily stripped off his jacket.
What on earth could he have done to merit such dishonour — tried to pass off a Burgundy claret as Rioja? Told someone that the Marqués de Riscal Rioja reserva was best glugged down “straight from the bottle”?
As it turned out, no. What Txe-Txe Etxberria had meant was that he’d physically lost his badge – along with jacket, scarf and beret – at a party following a local pelota match. Victories in pelota (a kind of handball) are celebrated hereabouts with partying, music, fireworks and general licentiousness. Same with defeats. The sport, also known as Jai Alai, grips the Basque country.
In the seminal work on pelota, Olatz Gonzalez Abrisketa, wrote: “The pelota court, like Proust’s Madeleine, contains within itself the collective memory of the Basques.”
That's some claim for any sport. But certainly you’ll see pelota courts everywhere in Rioja, from modern stadiums bristling with glass and aluminium, to gabled walls surrounding a paved courtyard. Just mind your jacket.
To recover from sporting excitement, vineyards full of tempranillo grapes, plus well-filled glasses of Rioja crianza, beckon. In the Rioja Alavesa, where most people depend on wine to earn their keep, ample opportunities exist to go wandering through vines and bodegas. The Wine Route snakes through some 13,500 hectares of vineyards, passing over 400 wineries and dozens of mediaeval villages en route.
The bodegas come in every configuration, just like the pelota courts.
Another view of the Marqués de Riscal winery and hotel, jack-the-ladding it over the town of Elciego
Even seasoned travellers might find themselves uttering a gasp, or worse, on catching sight of the futuristic lines of the Marqués de Riscal winery. Designed by Canadian architect Frank Gehry (Bilbao Guggenheim fame), the titanium-clad curves of the bodega lord it over the ancient vineyards of Elciego. The vast swirl of metal ribbons, in pink, purple, gold and silver, crown a sandstone building that houses the extensive wine cellars of the Marqués.
You might think it looks like a giant, discarded sweetie wrapper; or more romantically, maybe a vast swirling flamenco dancer with the building’s curves underlining the soul and poetry of Spain. Whichever, it is singularly arresting.
After you’ve gawped, and finally made up your mind, take a tour of the adjoining 19th century wine cellars and tasting rooms.
After a good harvest, no shortage of corkage
The Marqués de Riscal’s place isn’t the only trophy architecture about.
On the plains far below the town of Laguardia-Biasteri, a red, dusty road leads through immaculately-tended ranks of vines to an impressive cedarwood and aluminum building, Ysios.
Designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, Ysios is owned by Domecq. Your admission fee will get you a tour round the complete works of wine production: harvesting, fermentation, pressing, blending, fining – and the many other arcane processes required to produce a wine that you certainly won't want to drink straight from the bottle.
Ysios Bodega — several thousand barrels of Rioja call this home. A true monument to viticulture
The main cellar is guarded by great oaken doors that open with a flourish. A choir of angels moment. A Carmina Burana operatic opportunity. Roll out the barrels. The lights come on in the great cellar, to reveal over 3000 barrels of red Rioja wine
Long avenues of cooperage are stacked with American, French and Hungarian oak barrels. And when they’re done with, they're sent to Ireland and Scotland to store whiskey (and whisky). International co-operation is sometimes a joy to behold.
Outside, under relentlessly blue skies, the vineyards stretch towards the Cantabrian mountains. The vine leaves are interspersed with lovely roses bushes. Decoration? Devil a bit. The rose gardens operate as an early warning system. Apparently if mildew threatens, it attacks the roses about three days before going for the vines. Preventative action is duly taken. Who would ever have thought roses could be so useful?
Ysios will tailor your trip to any specification – individual tours, group seminars, business meetings, or perhaps hold a small party for yourself and two hundred of your friends. You can even have your wedding here, should you wish to get married life off to a rollicking start. And if you buy anything in excess of 30 cases of wine, Ysios will keep them ageing in their cellars for you – you might even get a billet beside the Guggenheim stash.
Wine making — the nub of the process being discussed here
To be honest, you only need to do a couple of bodega tours in your lifetime. Wine-making is not a terribly dynamic process; today grapes usually ferment in huge aluminium yokes that look like spaceships. Not much happens; there's very little to see.
However one cellar in Rioja, in the town of Laguardia-Biasteri, is a treasure. Now, while I wouldn’t definitely declare Laguardia as my new favourite European town, let’s just say the heat is on for Medina Sidonia in Andalusia, and Kandersteg in the Bernese Alps.
If you want to get an idea of what Laguardia-Biasteri looked like back in the 13th century, it’s easy. Just nip outside. Everything one demands from a mediaeval town is box-tickable: ancient walls (built on the orders of King Sancho the Strong) town gates, narrow cobbled streets, mysterious little bars, diffuse street lamps, honey-coloured sandstone buildings. They've thought of everything.
Cars are banned on account of the number of cellars underneath the narrow winding alleyways. Nobody wants a Fiat Uno crashing through the roof into their barrels of wine.
La Casa Primicia Bodega in Laguardia-Biasteri — what any self-respecting wine cellar should look like
A network of bodegas extends to almost every house inside the town’s old walls – each is connected to at least one other neighbouring property via an underground cellar. One of these, La Casa Primicia Bodega is likely the oldest building in town. History spills out of Spain’s attic here: the Church used to raise its taxes in the bodega, partly to bankroll a crusade to omni-coveted Jerusalem (thank goodness that’s sorted out.) Today you can visit the Casa’s ancient cellars, go wine-tasting, buy a few cases of Rioja, or have a lunch that lasts till sunset and beyond.
If you’ve had enough wine – and you probably have — Laguardia-Biasteri is a good place to mount any expeditionary force into the Cordillera Cantábrica. In this area, known as the Sierra de Toloño, the mountains aren’t particularly high, but because we’re pretty close to sea level were getting full value — most of their thousand or so metres are on full show. A network of trails thread their way through the mountains, once used by pilgrims en route to Santiago de Compostela.
The Cantabrian mountains are also home to the Cantabrian brown bear, Ursus arctos pyrenaicus, so any walk in the woods should prove whether the Pope is a Catholic or not.
In these uplands also look out for golden eagle, peregrine falcon and Egyptian vultures. It’s prime bull-running country too, so if you pass a field of fierce-looking bulls, you may be sure very few of them are bluffing.
Eagles, bears, vultures – even wolves – this is wild Iberia writ large. Unlike some parts of Spain, the tourist doesn’t rule the roost here – the wine people, the hunters, the farmers do. But they’ll be delighted to let you have a long, languorous look.