Two wine-makers and a lost taster

If you're interested in wine and ever find yourself in Santiago you can't not go to Concha y Toro, Chile's largest winery. To reach it, take the metro southbound to the end of the line, then jump on a local bus which drops you just outside the gate.

Or so I was told.

I time my journey from the city to make the last English-speaking tour of the day. The bus crawls up the main shopping street, forever stopping at lights and for people climbing on through the open doors. Finally we swing right into a maze of shacks that are little more than padlocked sheds. Incredible that a wealthy enterprise should exist a stone's throw from this poverty.

There's diversions at every turn as the roads are being hacked up and rebuilt - workmen wave us away. We veer off through a rocky field, the small bus rocking from side to side. Everyone clings on, eye-brows raised.

We hit a long, open road and suddenly fly past the gates for the winery. The bus driver slams on his brakes when I remind him - lucky I spotted it. I'm already late, so I run back along the hot, dusty road and through the gates. There's no obvious place to go, so I keep running up the long driveway and into an open door at some kind of processing unit.

It turns out I'm at the fermentation plant - the wine tours are at a completely different site. Max and Juan, two of the wine-makers there, offer me a lift to the winery - they're going there anyway. It's a tight squeeze in the front of the jeep but I'm grateful as the journey takes about fifteen minutes.

I ask them about the winery and Chile's famous grape, Carmenère, which, until only fairly recently, the Chileans believed was Merlot. Apparently the leaves on Carmenère vines are hairy on the underside, whereas Merlot's are smooth. That's how you can tell.

Carmenère's a hard grape to grow, Max tells me. Grow it in the wrong terroir and "you will taste its ugly face" - raw and stalky. But grow it in the right conditions and Carmenère will taste of violets, blueberries and warm Christmas spices. Just about right for now, I think, longing for a glass.

By the time we arrive, I've missed the English tour so I join the Spanish one that's just started. We walk round the manicured grounds then taste two wines - a standard 2005 Carmenère and premium label Don Melchor Cabernet Sauvignon - incredibly a 1994. Don Melchors are always decanted first to aerate them. It's amazing - smooth, chocolatey and smoky with a minty finish. I savour every drop.

Then I wonder how I'm going to make it back to Santiago.