Ulisse, Wine and the Mediterranean: Apparently the Greeks Knew What They Were Doing

There are two ways of looking at Homer’s Odyssey.

The first is the traditional approach: a heroic tale about a Greek bloke called Ulisse who spends years trying to get home after a war, encountering monsters, witches, angry gods and various other inconveniences along the way.

The second is to look at it properly.

It was, quite possibly, an extremely long Mediterranean wine tour.

And frankly, this makes rather more sense.

Because if you plot Ulisse’s journey across the Mediterranean, you begin to notice something rather interesting. The places mentioned in Homer’s epic correspond remarkably well with some of the ancient wine-producing regions of southern Italy and Sicily. 

So while everyone else was concentrating on Cyclops and Sirens, it seems Ulisse may simply have been following the wine list.

The original Mediterranean road trip

The Greeks were very good at travelling.

They didn't have motorways, airports, or a Ryanair app telling them that their gate had changed to somewhere about three miles away.

They had boats.

And they had wine.

The ancient Greek world expanded through a network of settlements and trading posts stretching across the Mediterranean. Vine cultivation travelled with these populations, along with winemaking techniques and grape varieties from the eastern Mediterranean. Southern Italy became so closely associated with wine that parts of it were known as Enotria — essentially, the land of vines. 

Which is a rather good name.

Far better than calling it "Southern Italy".

Then came the volcanoes

One of the striking things about Ulisse's journey is how many of the places associated with it are volcanic.

Etna.

Vesuvius.

The Campi Flegrei.

The Aeolian Islands.

And if you've ever stood on volcanic soil and looked at what grows in it, you'll understand why ancient farmers weren't exactly rushing out to complain about the geology.

Volcanic soils can be extraordinarily fertile, and the landscapes around these volcanoes became important places for agriculture, settlement, and eventually wine production. 

Etna, in particular, has become one of Italy's great wine regions.

And this is where things become rather delicious.

Etna: wine with a volcano underneath it

Today, Etna produces wines with a character strongly associated with the volcanic landscape.

The extraordinary thing is that this isn't simply some modern marketing invention involving a black label, a photograph of a volcano and the word "terroir" printed in a font that costs more than my first car.

The connection between these landscapes and wine goes back a very long way.

The same general Mediterranean geography described through the world of Homer corresponds with regions where important wines were produced in antiquity and where distinctive wine traditions still exist today. 

In other words, you could argue that the modern wine traveller is simply following a route established several thousand years ago.

With considerably better luggage.

Then there is Salina

Salina, in the Aeolian Islands, is another fascinating stop on this ancient wine journey.

The island is particularly famous for Malvasia delle Lipari, a grape with an extraordinary history of movement across the Mediterranean.

And this is where history starts behaving like it has a sense of humour.

The Malvasia itself travelled.

People travelled.

Families travelled.

Wine travelled.

And centuries later, tourists travel there specifically to drink the stuff.

Human civilisation, apparently, has achieved very little in this regard.

We are still getting on boats and following the wine.

Modern winemaker Nino Caravaglio has taken Malvasia in another direction by producing a dry expression of the grape rather than concentrating solely on the traditional sweet style. His work has helped demonstrate just how much potential the variety has. 

He now runs a winery on Salina designed not only for production but also for visitors, with a tasting room and facilities for wine tourism.

Which is sensible.

If you're going to grow wine on a beautiful Mediterranean island, you may as well give people somewhere comfortable to drink it.

The remarkable bit

What makes the whole story particularly interesting is the persistence of these wine traditions.

The wines being produced today in Sicily, Campania and Lazio, in places connected with Homer's geography, can display characteristics that echo the kinds of wines associated with those regions in antiquity. 

Obviously, nobody has kept a bottle of Ulisse's 800 BC vintage in the back of a cupboard.

Although, given the Greeks' attitude to wine, I suspect they would have been furious if anyone suggested saving it for later.

What survives instead is the landscape.

The grapes.

The climate.

The volcanic soils.

The farming traditions.

And, most importantly, the idea that wine is not simply something you manufacture and put in a bottle.

It is something that belongs to a place.

So perhaps Homer was onto something

We tend to think of the Odyssey as a story about a man trying desperately to get home.

But perhaps there is another way of seeing it.

Ulisse was travelling through a Mediterranean world already connected by trade, agriculture, migration and wine.

His journey passed through places where vines were being cultivated, and wines were being made, some of which have continued in one form or another for thousands of years.

Today, you can follow the same general trail.

Visit Salina.

Drink Malvasia.

Go to Etna.

Drink something volcanic.

Continue through Campania.

Drink something else.

Eventually, if you are still capable of navigation, you may even make it home.

Although unlike Ulisse, you have one significant advantage.

You don't have to sail past monsters.

You only have to deal with tourists, rental cars, and someone taking 14 photographs of their lunch.

And frankly, after three thousand years, that probably counts as progress.