“Ladies & Gents, we are now descending into Madrid, where the temperature is chilly 8°C with rain…”
Right. Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting from Spain. But no matter, the real adventure lay beyond the city, in the rugged, untamed beauty of Sierra de Gredos.
Tucked away to the Northwest of Madrid, Sierra de Gredos is a land of hidden wonders, where jagged peaks and rolling hills shelter one of Spain’s most overlooked wine-making regions: Cebreros PDO. This place isn’t polished or manicured, it’s raw, ancient and steeped in tradition. Here vines cling stubbornly to granite rich soils, shaped by centuries of tectonic movement.
Cebreros is Garnacha country. But unlike the powerful, tannic expressions you might expect, the wines here possess a surprising freshness – a gift from the high altitude and mineral-laced terrain. I had the chance to experience this first hand with Marc Isart, a winemaker at the forefront of Gredos’ revival! His work with Pegaso’s Garnacha is a revelation - often juicy with red fruit wrapped in a subtle, stony elegance that reflects the land itself.
And then there was Arrebatacapa (picture) – the standout. But perhaps my judgment was swayed by the breath taking surroundings of the Cebreros valleys. If you had told me I’d be standing with a bunch of fellow winos, on a literal mountain side with Marc – I’d have thought you’re bonkers. I was so captivated and distracted by the staggering views that, for all I knew, they could have discovered this bottle hidden at 1060 meters rather than carried it up the steep slopes themselves. 11am. Glass in hand. What a moment.
Pegaso are the kind of wines that tell a story, and Marc, along with a new generation of winemakers are making sure that story is heard. Long hours, tireless days and meticulous hand-harvesting define their craft. The vineyards here look like something out of a twisted fairy tale. Unlike the neatly trellised rows of a picture-perfect estate, these bush vines are wild, gnarly and ancient. Like sleeping trolls, their contorted limbs huddle low to the ground, embracing against the winter mountain winds. Walking through the vineyards on a misty morning, I half expected them to groan and stretch, shaking off centuries of slumber.
And yet, despite their eerie stillness in winter, come spring, they awaken. As does the wine. Crunchy, ripe tannins. Fresh berries. Just wow. I almost sure I could taste the wild asparagus and lavender growing along the vineyard’s edge. The finish? Long, drying and electric that completely awakens every taste bud. Like the revival of the dormant, sleepy vines rediscovered by Telmo Rodríguez and Pablo Eguzkiza, my palate felt revitalised - a testament to Pegaso’s stellar craftsmanship.
Gredos refuses to be tamed. You feel it in the jagged landscape, in the weathered vines and in the wines that capture the soul of the land with every sip.
As I left the mountainside, a bottle of Pegaso in hand, I knew I’d barley scratch the surface of its mysteries. But one thing was certain, I’d be back and eager to hear what new stories the vines had to share…
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