The rolling road through La Rioja
Feb. 25th, 2012 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustIt was only after we'd decided that our Spanish holiday would follow the pilgrim route towards Compostella that we realised the route led straight through La Rioja. But once we did realise, we set aside all thought of following straight through, and booked ourselves a couple of nights in the region, to give us time to look round. We stayed at the Hotel Villa de Ábalos, which we booked through Brittany Ferries, knowing no more about it than that it was in the right place - but it turned out to be probably my favourite of all the hotels of the holiday. A big old house in a small town of big houses, the homes for centuries of prosperous winemakers, it has been converted with endearing attention to detail: even the rails of the square central staircase are wrought iron panels of vines, and the walls are hung with quilted panels, with more vine motifs. The slick design of their website doesn't convey the genuine charm of the place. The restaurant is good, and they serve their own wine.
We had assumed that we could explore the wineries of Rioja as we do those of France, where you turn up and see what is on offer: occasionally at busy times we've been turned away with an apology, but mostly we'll be invited to taste some wine, and often shown round as well. As I said, it didn't wotk out that way, and our winery visiting had peaked before we entered the Rioja region. The sheer scale of the enterprises may have had something to do with it, too, anmd many of them had constructed ambitious new winery buildings. Just before we reached Ábalos we had passed the tower of Ugarte, and we returned there in the morning, if only to convince ourselves that yes, we really had seen what we thought we'd seen. We could have stayed and joined the midday tour, but instead, after a good nose around, and a detour to the neighbouring dolmen, we headed into Laguardia, perched on its high ridge above the vineyards.
With the help of the Tourist Office, we found the Bodegas Carlos San Pedro, where Carlos showed us round his cellars under the town streets, and climbed a ladder to reach into his concrete vat and take a sample of the 2008 for us to try. We emerged and made our way back to the square in time to see the clock striking the hour.
All the pictures of Laguardia.
Failing to book visits was just a matter of ignorance: we'll know better another time (with some reservations about the showier modern buildings, which are as much about image and architecture as they are about wine - nothing wrong with architecture, and I'm glad to have seen the crazy titanium ribbons of Gehry's Riscal winery and hotel). But we really hadn't meant to arrive at harvest time, and though it was interesting to see people out picking grapes in the vineyards, they really didn't need the distraction visitors. Still, it was a delight simply to be driving through the vines, and we took the long way home, over the mountains where the views were stunning even though all the detail and distance was blurred by mist. And we were back in time for a stroll among the vines which crowd around Ábalos, just as the sun was setting.
We spent the next morning in Haro, which claims to be the capital of the Rioja wine region, and also the most northerly point where storks nest - there's a splendid nest on the roof of the tourist office (which seems altogether too convenient to be entirely genuine). We also found a wine shop in the huge central square, with an extensive collection of bottles, from which we picked a selection to bring home, untasted, judging purely by the attractiveness of the labels (I'm slightly embarrassed that this system worked perfectly well; we enjoyed every bottle). We stayed in the square for a lunch of salad and conversation about which I have already written.
After lunch, we turned our thoughts back to the pilgrimage, and headed for Santo Domingo.
We had assumed that we could explore the wineries of Rioja as we do those of France, where you turn up and see what is on offer: occasionally at busy times we've been turned away with an apology, but mostly we'll be invited to taste some wine, and often shown round as well. As I said, it didn't wotk out that way, and our winery visiting had peaked before we entered the Rioja region. The sheer scale of the enterprises may have had something to do with it, too, anmd many of them had constructed ambitious new winery buildings. Just before we reached Ábalos we had passed the tower of Ugarte, and we returned there in the morning, if only to convince ourselves that yes, we really had seen what we thought we'd seen. We could have stayed and joined the midday tour, but instead, after a good nose around, and a detour to the neighbouring dolmen, we headed into Laguardia, perched on its high ridge above the vineyards.
With the help of the Tourist Office, we found the Bodegas Carlos San Pedro, where Carlos showed us round his cellars under the town streets, and climbed a ladder to reach into his concrete vat and take a sample of the 2008 for us to try. We emerged and made our way back to the square in time to see the clock striking the hour.
All the pictures of Laguardia.
Failing to book visits was just a matter of ignorance: we'll know better another time (with some reservations about the showier modern buildings, which are as much about image and architecture as they are about wine - nothing wrong with architecture, and I'm glad to have seen the crazy titanium ribbons of Gehry's Riscal winery and hotel). But we really hadn't meant to arrive at harvest time, and though it was interesting to see people out picking grapes in the vineyards, they really didn't need the distraction visitors. Still, it was a delight simply to be driving through the vines, and we took the long way home, over the mountains where the views were stunning even though all the detail and distance was blurred by mist. And we were back in time for a stroll among the vines which crowd around Ábalos, just as the sun was setting.We spent the next morning in Haro, which claims to be the capital of the Rioja wine region, and also the most northerly point where storks nest - there's a splendid nest on the roof of the tourist office (which seems altogether too convenient to be entirely genuine). We also found a wine shop in the huge central square, with an extensive collection of bottles, from which we picked a selection to bring home, untasted, judging purely by the attractiveness of the labels (I'm slightly embarrassed that this system worked perfectly well; we enjoyed every bottle). We stayed in the square for a lunch of salad and conversation about which I have already written.
After lunch, we turned our thoughts back to the pilgrimage, and headed for Santo Domingo.
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Date: 2012-02-25 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-26 10:05 am (UTC)Having to book all one´s visits in advance for a prolonged road-trip seems more than complicated to me. One would have to be impressively well organised to keep such a schedule up at all times. Also, it removes exactly that charming moment of randomness, of chance, surprise and discovery a trip can provide if one is lucky. The little unknown road leading to an enchanted castle with a treasure in its cellar and all that.
I remember finding fantastic places and wines by pure chance even back in Franconia and in Tuscany too, where the custom seemed to be more french about visits. I suddenly recall, having read how there is one winemaker there who has a string quartet playing Vivaldi and other tunes to his bio vines, claiming it would make them tastier because they love music. "One has to love the italians" as a friend said, though that was about selling a well-known magazine with a dart-set displaying the face of Berlusconi´s playmate and a set of knives. I drift as usual but it is true nonetheless!
The hotel you liked so much seems to prove the theory of the advantages of chance-taking on holidays. The site comes over as a bit bloodless not to say "cool" but the pictures give one an idea of the place and its charms.