It is a vineyard in Torremontalbo in La Rioja, where the original stock of the vine for this wine is grown. Any sensitive person turning up in the area can feel that it is a very special spot in La Rioja. Century-old oak trees sink their roots into a dark soil, unique to La Rioja; water murmurs tirelessly here and there from time immemorial, deep down in the ground.

          If your eyes, however, want more, if you want to leave the neighbouring vines and see the horizon, you will find yourself stepping on a lighter, drier soil, less cheerful but more impacting, just a little bit further up. It is there that the twisted vine stocks, even centuries old, start you thinking about what this soil has given our family, little by little, in the course of time.

          And then you think about continuity, and what remains; about our ephemeral lives, and about your never departing somehow.

          It is then that you come to a stop and begin to feel a tingling in your stomach, a restless feeling, an urgent need to become one with the soil, to relate closely to those vine stocks planted by other hands in the past.

          You suddenly realize that the vines will only come into life through that wine which only you can see in your mind.