Guardians of timeless beauty

The mountain world of the Andes in South America stretches over more than 7,500 kilometres. It is a world of extremes. Snow and rock as far as the eye can see. In between there are seething volcanoes and thousands of kilometres of nothing but ice and salt. This sounds like a world that would be hostile to life. But animals and plants have adapted marvellously to these conditions. This also applies to the grapevine. Around the small town of Cafayate, in one of the last foothills of the Andes in north-west Argentina, the highest vineyards in the world can be found. But what does the altitude do to the grapes? Or to put it another way: what do the Andes taste like in a glass of wine?

If you like travelling in the high Alps, you will know that the sunlight is more intense and that you need to protect yourself with sun cream with a high protection factor. The grapes simply develop a thicker skin. This makes the wines darker and rich in tannins. The thick coating also ensures that the fruit remains healthy and does not burst open. This allows them to mature for a particularly long time and develop their full flavour. The cold nights at 1,700 metres above sea level also ensure that a pleasant acidity is retained. This results in lively, balanced wines. As the vine has to work hard to thrive on this soil, it has more backbone - often referred to as structure in the language of wine. A bit like people who have overcome crises. À propos: Cafayate translates as "where worries are buried". Is it the good wine? Or the imposing mountain scenery that leaves you in awe? Probably a combination of both...

We became acquainted with the wines of "Maison de la Villette" 10 years ago. They are now like old friends to us. So let's give them the chance to talk about themselves:
Benoît Cabernet sits at a small bistro table - his arms crossed, his moustache twitching in amusement. Next to him, Sophie Chardonnay slumps into the cushions, lights a cigarette and nonchalantly throws her bag onto the table. Louis Rosé enters the bistro, a book under his arm, his linen jacket slung casually over his shoulder. Benoît smiles, swirls his glass: "Ah, toujours en retard, mon petit Louis. Too long immersed in books?" Louis sighs, sits down, leafs through his book: "Oh, Benoît, it's the warm, southern French light that I miss. In Paris, even the sun is a little melancholy." Sophie takes a drag on her cigarette and winks at him: "Mon cher, you're just too much of a dreamer. Paris lives, breathes, dances - you just have to know where!" Benoît grins: "And you know that, of course. Cabaret, champagne, all these temptations. But in the end, Sophie, what remains? A good roast, a sip of red wine and real friends." Sophie laughs, toasts him: "My dear Benoît, you're as predictable as a perfectly matured Brie. And yet - charming." Louis thoughtfully: "You're both so loud. I prefer to savour the stillness of a moment. A glass of cool rosé, a view of the water..." Benoît snorts, raises his glass: "Well, my boy, that's the difference. Sophie and I celebrate life. But you - you long for it." Sophie raises her glass: "Alors, to friendship, to good conversations - and to the fact that each of us is unique in our own way!"