Outside, the Carso is the land of truth. Harsh, unpleasant, difficult. In a word, true. Land of stone and wind, of Nature strong and vigorous. Land of the seasons with dreamy colours, of air terse and pungent.
Inside, the Carso is in the wine-cellar. Stone-made, part of an ancient house, witness to the long history of this territory the wine-cellar is an angle of Nature protected jealously, An ecosystem creating the ideal conditions for Nature to find its dwelling-place.
Exterior and interior possess a continuity. The vineyard is framed by the Carso, the grapevines grow amidst Nature. Even the wine-cellar is framed by the Carso, the wine matures in its environment. It is the principal element of a universe, which outside is a flow of energy, driven by the Bora wind blowing across the grapevine. And the wine breathes in the best air.
The vineyard is the book of ancient knowledge that loves the land.
No more. Each hectare of land grows ten thousand plants. Each plant gives one-half kilogram of grapes. Natures knows its own balance, man listens in order to comprehend the language of the earth. Rain waters the grapevines, no other irrigation is needed, because the earth requires hard work, attention and experience but it pays and the procedure is the product of natural imperfection; the hand of man must second this, not modify it. The grape which enters the wine-cellar is prepared by long, slow maceration, restoring little by little what Nature has created in time.
What Nature has given to the vineyard, the grape now gives to the wine.
The temperature is naturally constant. No filters or refrigeration is needed,as the wine is born in the most natural fashion and finds in the amphora its container par excellence, the fundamental element of wine-making. The wine is best expressed through storage in underground terra cotta, placed at a constant temperature for a period from five to seven months. It will then spend two years in large barrels, so as not to rush. This is a natural wait, like that of a mother for her child.
It is the most beautiful of occasions, as our pleasure lies in knowing how to wait.
History is not forgotten. Today's vineyard is heir to a farming family that has always been tied to the land. Our passion has its roots in the awareness of what it is. Today it produces one and only one wine – Vitovska, the wine of the Carso - rich historical heritage. There is but one way and it has already been indicated, the choice of following it is the most obvious. A choice of life tied to Nature, of listening to the land and its rhythms. Nothing must be forced, wisdom lies in knowing how to wait for the right time. This is the path of Nature, of respect for life. The wine is born in its microcosm and is the mirror of Nature.
The Carso outside is discovered in the bottle.
I love the simple words of our Carsican farmers, I love them, oh, I prefer them to you, poets of the city.
As if one could see the serene landscape over the green, tranquil valley, As if one could see the pines and rock guarding over the valley.
I also love their harsh silence; like a rough hand a lost child they often invite me and once again are heard on high.
Last night we listened to the Bora wind and did not sleep at all; in hushed tones we spoke of strange and frightening things.
Like being at sea during the shipwreck of fleet, and how cold and terrible are the sea waves.
Last night we listened to the Bora wind and did not sleep at all; we dreamt of weighing anchor with the wind and reaching other shores.
The cold morning began to unfold, (who knows where the ships were by now) whilst we went to the orchard to gather vermilion fruit under the apple and pear trees.
The breezes whisper in the fileds, the grass undulating and the sun shines brightly through the valley, even if you are far away!
The bell towers ring out the fiesta, the echoes vanishing in the wind and I stand alone in the fileds. Who wants sadness? I will give it to him.
Fragrant pine trees, sweet-smelling pine trees, their scent is healty and strong whilst those who return to their solitude, are ill no more.
On this stretch of rocky land everything is beatiful and true being, living, struggling feeling young and healty.
Fragrant pine trees, tenacious companions, sweet companions of lost spaces, I salute you in my solitude, so full of grave and desolate beauty
The nightingales sing under the shadows of bushes in the middle of the dell; alone I roam about the fields in the silent hour.
Silver crystal shine in the dew of the hill and countryside... And the moon is reflected in my serene heart.
If only you knew, I would sing to you of the luminous rustle of the poplars, the Carsican sun in cool September, and the white valleys of buckwheat.
If only you knew, I would sing to you of a girl; I love her so and will give her up for nothing, nothing in the world.
Località Colludrozza, 4 - 34010 Sgonico | TS - Italy
+39 040 229181