Leo Erazo

The old vines and special terroir of Itata, southern Chile, have beena source of inspiration for this intrepid winemaker. The 2023 fires were a setback, but his commitment to this ancient wine land is undiminished

-  PATRICIO TAPIA

The path that leads to Leonardo Erazo's winery is narrow and slippery. The mud is thick from rain that has not stopped almost a week, and the pine forests on both sides barely let in the light. I should have listened to Erazo when he told me to rent a 4x4 - instead I'm inching across the mud in a sedan. Fortunately, it manages to reach the end of the road, where the pine trees suddenly give way to a spectacular view. I can see the slopes of the round, green peaks of the coastal mountain range, about 4km away, dropping down into the Pacific ocean.

This place is called Cobquecura. It has no viticultural tradition to speak of, but it is close to the southern Chilean DO region of Itata, 500km south of Santiago, where vines have been cultivated for 500 years. Itata's vines fell into neglect when Chile's Central Valley rose to vinous prominence from the mid-20th century, but they've undergone a renaissance in recent decades, with forward-looking producers such as Erazo rescuing this rich heritage of old, dry-farmed vineyards. Today, a growing number of vintners work small vineyards of ancient País, Moscatel or Cinsault vines in Itata.

AFTER THE FIRES

The rain has stopped falling for a moment and the sky allows timid rays of winter sun to sneak through the dense layers of clouds. Erazo, 45 years old, is waiting for me among the vines. He wears a thick sleeveless vest, shorts and working boots (pictured, p53). He smiles with his usual warmth.

We haven't seen each other for a couple of years, since just before Itata was devastated by the 2023 fires that destroyed, according to USDA Foreign Agriculture Service reports, about 440,000ha of land (mostly pine forests), killed 26 people and destroyed houses, wineries and an unknown number of old vineyards.