Companhia de Vinhos dos Profetas e dos Villões

Lying in the Atlantic Ocean, almost on the same latitude as Marrakech, is the fabled Portuguese, volcanic island archipelago of Madeira. Here the colours are an explosion of joy and the wind is redolent with heady, exotic scents.

I wish I could say that I have been coming to this paradisiacal haven since I was a 10-year-old boy, cycling manically down its steep hills like Steve McQueen. Instead, however, this year was my first time here. It was a destination of which I had only a vague mental image, but which aroused immense curiosity in me.

In my mind, it had the nostalgic connotations of 1980s tourism, of hotels with guests lazing idly on wicker sun loungers, of faded and long-forgotten photographs in closed drawers, of pleasant walks in botanical gardens. 

All it took was an off-road expedition into the island's hinterland to dispel all my former fantasies. And, to be honest, my encounter with the Sercial dos Villões was also fatefully decisive.

We have an appointment in Funchal, the capital of the archipelago. Nuno Faria’s arrival is a rapid succession of photograms: the squealing brakes of the red 1990s Ford convertible in the distance, the burning car abandoned in the middle of the road, the blaring horns of other motorists and Nuno jumping down and running towards me to hug me like an old friend. How can I not immediately feel empathy for this man?

His boundless energy sweeps over me like a sudden gust of Mistral.

I realise that the day's programme is a secret squirreled away in Nuno’s mind, and the only thing I can do is place my trust in it.

With the wind ruffling our hair, the sun blazing overhead and a sudden rush of endorphins, we abandon the main thoroughfares and head off into the vast botanical garden that is Madeira. Alongside the road, it is as if a suburban meadow in Kent has rebelled and gone completely wild, with bursts of lilac hydrangeas and purple agapanthus lining the way.

Nuno is Antonio Maçanita's partner in the highly ambitious Companhia de Vinhos dos Profetas e dos Villões project, between Madeira and Porto Santo, just over 70 kilometres apart. Born and bred on the island, the 43-year-old behind the wheel tells me that he came up with the idea during the Covid lockdown period, when for three months he isolated himself on the island of Porto Santo. The period of confinement - he tells me - allowed my ideas to drift out over the sea and pollinate the land. It gave me time to think and to wonder why no one had tried to produce wines other than the classic fortified wines of these areas. I have been friends with Antonio for almost 20 years and I know that he was the only one crazy enough to believe in this vision. 

If there are any forgotten or undervalued locations and terroirs, that is where Antonio Maçanita can be found.

As the Ford climbs up twisting roads, winding like the coils of a snake around a trunk, endless expanses of eucalyptus trees pierce the mountain landscape where dandelion plants grow to the size of small palms and buttercups are the size of shrubs.

Stay here long enough and you might just put down roots yourself, -  Nuno tells me.

There really must be something different about the air in Madeira. Nuño is pervaded by a vibrant and contagious energy and being with him convinces me that we all need a Nuño in our lives.

We stop the car next to some rows of vines hidden between small houses. A sign indicates São Vicente, famous for its favourable microclimate and nestled between two mountains which create ideal conditions for growing vines, especially the Tinta Negra variety. 

The Tinta Negra grape is very rare and, outside of Madeira, is only found in very small quantities in regions close to the ocean. In Colares, for example, near the Portuguese town of Sintra, where it is almost extinct and known as Molar. Or in Saborinho, in the Azores, where it is being revived thanks to the work of the Azores Wine Company. 

We have come to this village because Nuno and Antonio don’t own any plots of land on the two islands and hence are tied to a handful of owners, eager to sell their grapes. These owners normally sold their grapes to the big Madeira companies without ever having the chance to taste the fruits of their labours, as the grapes were used in blends that didn’t display their true quality. Nuno and Antonio decided to take a completely different approach, though, and signed agreements with people like Marco, whom we meet in São Vicente.

Marco's handful of vine-rows occupies an area comparable to the garden of a private home. Hidden away between the walls of the neighbouring properties, they are a precious treasure from which the Companhia de Vinhos dos Profetas e dos Villões manages to obtain a truly exceptional wine.

Tinta Negra Vale São Vicente is the first bottle we taste. An exceptionally distinctive red, with a nose reminiscent of musk with charcoal mineral notes. A fresh, structured wine with plenty of body and complexity, an ever-present acidity and a lingering finish. Exceptionally exciting.

Now I will show you what we are referring to when we speak of ocean wines. Nuno tells me, as he drives in the direction of the coast, passing the chapel erected in honour of St Vincent and coming to a halt a few minutes later. Another of Marco's plots, another hidden gem less than a hundred metres from the sea, where the vines have an average age of 14 years. Here, the ocean is so close and so inexorable that constant storms destroy almost 50 per cent of the crop every year. A clear testimony to the gruelling struggle between man and nature. 

It is a logistical nightmare, but this way we can work as we please and monitor every step of the process, Nuno explains to me as we head towards Seixal, ten minutes to the west, to visit the most amazing vineyard I have ever seen. Our winery isn't located here in Madeira but in Porto Santo. Every year, after the harvest, we move the grapes in refrigerated trucks to the other island to be processed.

Seixal appears before us with all the variety of its breathtaking natural scenery. Its sheer cliffs overlooking the ocean, black sandy beaches and lush surrounding valleys, create an idyllic picture. The view of the Atlantic crashing against the rocks offers moments of pure contemplation, while the imposing mountains behind the village invite hikes and adventures in nature.

Miguel Ângelo Caldeira and his wife Mariangie Castillo are waiting for us at the bottom of their vineyard and guide us under an arbour created from the intertwining of 30-year-old Sercial vines. We are very high above sea level, but around the perimeter there is a semi-permeable barrier of shrubs to protect us from the wind and salt.

It's unbelievable that the salt spray reaches these heights during the winter. Mariangie understands the look of surprise on my face and tells me that they have lost more than 80 per cent of their production during the last year because of it.

We move on and arrive in an utterly magical place.

The Sercial dos Villões we taste comes from this place and speaks a language we have never heard before. Its voice is one of suffering, of the ocean, of the struggle against nature, of sacrifice, of determination. A minerally blast hits you instantly and is immediately followed by its citrusy soul. In the mouth, it is taut and almost acidic, with a pronounced salinity. In drinking it, one drinks Madeira. It is a white that deserves to be drunk over and over again in the course of a lifetime. 

Excited and enthusiastic, I barely realise that this visit is also coming to an end. My heart lights up with my usual nostalgia, while my mind seeks to recall my future schedule to see when I will be able to return.

Then, I realise that sometimes it is precisely the moment of parting that makes us see and understand everything with unexpected clarity: you have to leave Madeira in order to see it clearly. An island with its head in the clouds, with a wild soul, where people you have never met before welcome you with a hug and every corner hides a garden of Eden, just waiting to be discovered.