A walk in a beloved vineyard

Grape vines are sensitive beings: an old island winegrower told me once that they absorb the positive or negative vibrations around them and that grapes are influenced by people’s thoughts and feelings.

I remembered that conversation with the winegrower, while I was visiting my uncle’s vineyard in Ikaria, located in a beautiful place that village people call Radokampa. The serenity of that vineyard is unique. No electricity, no noises, no indiscreet glimpses; just the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the view of the sea far away. My uncle loves his vineyard and taking care of it is a part of an Ikarian way of living that he also loves. He doesn’t worry about the wine because he doesn’t sell it; he just makes it for his own fun. And guess what: he makes great pure wine. I have memories of toasting with that wine in family weddings and christenings, where every sip is followed by a wish for the newly married couple or the baptized baby. And I remember a glass jug filled with red wine that was always on my uncles’ kitchen table; every proper ikarian lunch is accompanied by a glass of local wine, this is a habit as old as time in the island.

Fokiano and Βegleri, the two varieties of grapes that grow peacefully this vineyard, seem to be protected by a huge stone cross that my uncle’s great-great grandfather “planted” in the soil, among the first vine routes of the land. Is this sense of continuity that makes the wine flavor special? A sunset and a glass of wine later I didn’t wonder anymore. Feeling as calm as the place, I watched the Evdilos port lights welcoming the night and the grape vines hiding in the dusk.

photography by christos drazos