Chile and the Colchagua Valley

My prayers go to all people of Chile who’s lives, directly or indirectly, were impacted by one of the most powerful earthquakes this planet has witnessed since recorded history. 

This Chilean traditional song sang by late singer Mercedes Sosa “Todo Cambia” is dedicated to the people of Chile.

“A wine country with two distinct faces”

The sign along the "Carretera del Vino" at the entrance of Cochagua Valley

Santiago (Chile), November 2009. I set my foot for the first time in my life in Southern Hemisphere’s ground. While in North America the first cool weather starts to reverse the effects of a long and hot summer, here in high Mountainous, Andes-surrounded Chilean capital, people craves the first warm sunrays of spring. We stayed in Santiago for two nights and I was not thrilled by this big city that resembled too much like the suburbs of Milano. Nightlife seemed pretty happening though, with many neighborhood hang-outs, outdoor tables and rivers of Pisco Sour (Cile’s national drink). One of the things I noticed about Chile is the many stray dogs that roam the streets. They roam proud, free, in packs like wolves. They mark their territories like gang squads that hang their tennis shoes on the power wires of Los Angeles’ intersections. They bother no one, and no one bothers them. It is a symbiotic relationship that endures since man first domesticated them and keeps going on, in a very casual, natural way. But I long for the “real” Chile, and finally, after about one hour of struggling and wrestling to rent a car, driving in Santiago’s roads avoiding deep pot-holes and maniac drivers (by default, being from Italy, I am a maniac driver myself…) we manage to get out of that cement-made, chaotic, congested trap.

Finally free! Finally the “Autopista” takes us South, up to the mountains, and down to the hills, and through the fields. Finally I see what I came here to see, Chile’s most important wine country: Valle de Colchagua.

A farm in S. Jose' de Maipo, Maipo. At 3,600 feet elevation, often farmers still adopt horse-pulled ploughs (on the right)

Life runs at its own pace in Chilean wine country. It flows slow, mellow and melodic. Here, Chilean culture is expressed on a canvas full of flavors, colors, sensations and feelings. Images and memories from a distant past flow out ever so naturally from this “Cornucopia” called Valle de Colchagua, it seems like time stands still. In some parts, if you don’t pay attention to graffiti and junk scattered here and there in the front yards of more recent buildings, it could very well be late 19th or early 20th Century. As I drive through “La Carretera del Vino” (the Wine Highway), I swiftly and consciously detach my eyes from the road to observe the landscape. I get carried away by my emotions feeling like this is what California would have looked-like a century and a half ago, when resident Mexicans farmed the land and the first European settlers planted their first vineyards. I’m talking about the California of the Adobe houses and the Missions. I can’t help getting excited by the thought that just south of here, in the neighboring region of Maule, Poet Pablo Neruda was born.

An adobe brick house in Santa Cruz, Colchagua

I notice right away there are “two very distinct faces” of Colchagua. The first is very old, ancestral and colonial, still lived in the fields by the Campesinos -- local farmers -- which toil hard, away from all major cities (about three hours drive south of Santiago), most of the time working a land that does not belong to them. Many of them still live in run-down adobe brick houses with terracotta roof tiles. In the late afternoon you can see them chilling-out in their porches, observing people and the many stray dogs passing by.

Entrance at Viu-Manent in Nancagua. The winery was established in 1935 by one of the oldest families in Colchagua

The second is the “Modern” one, very modern I would say! But that has to do with the wine world, not with standard Chilean life. With the exception of a few, the wineries here have been built recently although vine growing itself dates back at least to the 18th century. Many feature state-of-the-art technology and some of them claim (thank God!) remarkable efforts on “minimal impact” towards ecosystem and landscapes by implementing sustainable farming, organic and bio-dynamic practices. This (in part) may help balance-out “human-impact”, or if you may, the claiming of hillside land and the reaping of indigenous flora which also affects the fauna and the ecosystem as a whole.

Entrance of Super-modern Casa Lapostolle's "Clos Apalta" Estate and winery in Apalta

Wine is my life, but I would be a hypocrite if I would not recognize that modern vine-growing has changed and continues to change nature. Analyzing the “big picture” of man-made wine country all over the world, you’ll realize that big chunks of indigenous flora have been replaced by “Vitis Vinifera”. This shows how (contrary to the rest of living beings with which we share this planet) in order to survive and thrive human beings do as they please with nature. Throughout millennia, humans exploited forests to generate building materials for its habitat and means of transportation, especially in naval construction. Ancient Romans almost wiped-out Sardinian native oak forests in order to build its Naval force which was crucial in the early expansion of the empire. King Philip the II of Spain wiped-out most of Spain’s forests to build a huge Naval fleet to keep-up the trade with its huge colonial empire. However, it all started countless millennia ago, at a time where in order to survive, our species had to grow-out of its then “hunter-gatherer” nature and develop agriculture by domesticating crops. In early agriculture man did not necessarily have to eradicate forests to plant crops. He had plenty of pasture to convert to planted fields. But growing vines is different than growing crops. If you want to produce the best wine possible you have to be in the best spots. The best spots for vine-growing require some crucial attributes such as sun exposure, geological conformation, soil composition and other factors. Unfortunately for the rest of the fellow species with which we share the planet, these so called best spots are in higher elevation and hillsides where usually nature thrives with its indigenous flora and fauna. Furthermore, as humans sailed through the Oceans in search of new continents the trend continued. Why? Because this fabulous plant yields a very special fruit from which humans extract its nectar which brings pleasure to their life. Once settled in North America, Australia, in South Africa and South America, the human species realized it would be easier to plant vines and make wine locally rather that import it from their “Mother-land”. Thus continents where grapevines never did grow spontaneously were literally transformed into what we nowadays know as “New World” wine countries. Sadly, human beings brought along with them the grapevine, but never bothered to plant woods somewhere else to make-up for the disruption they brought wherever they set foot. This is the price nature has to pay in order to provide “us” humans --maybe the most destructive living species this planet ever created-- with the ultimate “Hedonistic” pleasure: what I call “Wine Essence”…

Vineyards in the Valley-floor of Apalta, Colchagua. In the background you can see how vineyards are quickly expanding high on the hillside and how the native flora is fast receding. This is a common picture in all "New World" wine countries

Now back to Chile. From viticulture’s stand point, Chile embraced the varietal called Carmenere --Bordeaux’s forgotten sixth red varietal-- as its “National Varietal”. This vine has become the symbol of Chilean viticultural tradition in which wineries and winemakers identify themselves (much like Argentina has done with Malbec and Australia with Syrah/Shiraz). It is still a debate how the varietal managed to virtually disappear in Bordeaux and thrive in this part of the Southern Hemisphere, although until DNA came to rescue many producers were convinced they were growing Merlot. However, while there I had the chance to taste some remarkable Sauvignon Blanc as well as some of the best “New World” Syrah I’ve ever drank in my life. I find that of all the so called “New World” wine regions, Chile has the most “varietal-correct” flavors. This is due mostly to the fact that Chile never had the “Phylloxera” problem. Virtually all Chilean vines are planted on the original “European” rootstock that was brought there by the first European settlers, which through time has ensured the vines all stem from a common, not manipulated or for lack of a better term “non cross-bred” ancestor.

I am very fluent in Spanish, and that made me feel very lucky while in Chile. It really makes the difference being able to speak the language of the country you’re visiting. Besides understanding everything when asking for directions, it gives you the chance to interact closely with the locals and get a “Real-time” picture of peoples’ lives. I had the chance to chat quite a bit with the owner of Posada Colchagua, the bed & breakfast we stayed at. Leonora (the sweetest hostess you’ll ever meet) is a hard-working woman. Although she studied to become a school teacher, she worked all her life in the fields. At the same time she took care (and still does) of her now 90yr-old mother and teenager adopted son. She’s proud to say that she never had a companion to help her in this. She saved her money for decades and just a few years ago she invested all her savings to remodel the farm-house she inherited from her parents, turning it into a little “Jewel” in the hearth of Chile’s wine country.

An afternoon "Siesta" by the swimming pool of Posada Colchagua in Santa Cruz

On our fist night in Colchagua we decide to go and try the typical local fare. Leonora recommended us to dine at a local favorite restaurant --“El Asador del Valle”-- (The Valley’s roaster). The air was crisp and the sky was clear except for a few moon-lit, light-blue puffy clouds crowning the imposing Andes in the horizon. The stars were like diamonds shining up in the Southern hemisphere sky. The moon was so bright it casted a shadow of our bodies while walking silently in the courtyard from our neat room to the car. After getting lost in the fields for lack of signals and lighting we finally found the place. The Owner/Sommelier/Server walked us through the empty main dining room. We went outside, through the patio, and he finally took us to a dining room which rather resembled a shepherd’s hut. The fireplace was burning but the room was cold, the door was kept open at all time. I didn’t mind, I was well covered and looking forward to the smells coming from outside. I was given the wine list and noticed right away the selection was very slim (often restaurant owners here support one or two producers that are close friends, so choices are very limited). The wines were quite expensive considering we were just a few miles distant from the vineyards and the wineries. We paid about $60 for a delicious Syrah, and that after he gave us a 50% off the original price.

A delicious but quite expensive Syrah from a small producer in Apalta

The fire was bright red in the patio’s fire pit. Near it, a couple of lamb on the spit slowly roasted on a 45’ angle (at a fair distance from the incandescence of the coal). They kept sweating gamey fat drops, which in contact with the fire sizzled and released a scent in the air, resembling very much what you breathe on an Easter or Christmas night in rural Sardegna. On that night, by taking a bite of that locally-raised roasted lamb, I had a vision: I was transformed into Star Trek’s Captain Kirk! I was “teleported” with the speed of light from the “Enterprise” spaceship to a very distant place; distant in “time and space”. I felt a nice, warm and rather familiar feeling that night, which reminded me of another life; a life lived before this one. Maybe I did not physically, literally live it but I know for sure, somehow it runs through my veins. I know that both my grandparents and my parents have lived this life. It was a simple life, essential, lived to the fullest without luxury and comforts but with great value for many things nowadays we take for granted. Or maybe it was just some remote memory of my childhood? Whatever it was, it was pretty intense. Some people call it “déjà-vu”, I heard…

If there is a lesson I’ve learned that night was that food in Colchagua tastes “real”, strong and powerful, much like the life of its people, the stile of its wines and the products grown there and in the nearby high Andes Mountains.

All in all Colchagua’s beauty is still pristine; it is definitely worthy of paying a visit, now more than ever to help the local economy recover after a disastrous quake. Chances are one day consumer’s demand will attract more “wine industry-exploiting tycoons”. They will buy more hills, plant more vineyards, build large hotels and golf courses and transform Colchagua into another Disneyland-like amusement park for tourists. I think I am starting to see all of it already. Wait a second… Was I just teleported to Napa Valley?