At the Crossroads: Wine, Roman Roads and the Power of Narrative
Everything seems to be about narrative these days. Politicians win elections not only with policies but with stories; brands sell us lifestyles before they sell us products. Wine, too, is no exception. Behind every bottle that truly resonates, there is a story that helps us connect, remember, and care. Without it, even the most technically perfect wine risks being lost in a sea of sameness.
Last week, I took a group of nine British wine enthusiasts to Bodega Las Calzadas, a family winery in Pozoamargo, Cuenca. What struck me — and them — was how effortlessly this place embodies a narrative that is both authentic and compelling, woven into the very soil of its vineyards.
A Vineyard Beside a Roman Road
Pozoamargo, once known as Ad Putea, sits at a literal crossroads. Two major Roman routes intersected here: one that ran from Complutum (modern Alcalá de Henares) to Cartago Nova (Cartagena), and another from Córdoba to Sagunto. These were not just roads, but lifelines of empire. They carried soldiers, merchants, goods, and ideas across Hispania, binding distant provinces into the fabric of Rome.
Today, fragments of those same roads remain — and at Las Calzadas, the connection is direct. Their oldest vineyards, such as El Imperio (planted in 1920), lie right beside the ancient Roman way. In another parcel, Camino Romano (1945), you can still spot the white stones that once paved it. The vines here — Bobal, Pardilla, Rojal, even Moscatel — form a field blend that feels like living archaeology, roots intertwining with history.
Walking with my group among these old vines, one guest stooped to pick up a pale stone from the soil. “Could this be part of the Roman road?” he asked. Perhaps it was. In that moment, history was not an abstract backdrop but something tangible, underfoot and in the glass.
The Revival of Clay and Craft
The narrative at Las Calzadas doesn’t end with the vineyards. It continues in the cellar, where wine ferments and ages in tinajas — large clay amphorae. Some of these vessels are more than 150 years old, rescued from abandoned bodegas. Their porous walls allow the wine to breathe, offering a different kind of ageing than oak or steel: softer, earthier, rooted in tradition.
In fact, when Daniel Sevilla first began shaping the project of Las Calzadas, his starting point was a delivery of 20 tinajas made by Maribel Gómez at Tinajas Orozco in Villarrobledo. Those clay vessels — crafted in the same way her family has done for six generations — became the heart of the cellar. The wines still breathe through clay today, a direct line from Villarrobledo’s ancient craft to Pozoamargo’s vineyards.
We were lucky enough to visit the workshop ourselves. Maribel walked us through the process: clay dug, shaped, and fired in giant kilns. The Orozco family has been at this for generations, and Villarrobledo remains the epicentre of amphora-making in Spain. For my British group, it was a revelation. Wine is often presented in shiny bottles, sleek bars, or tasting rooms. Here, they witnessed the material origins: earth transformed by fire and hand, vessels that hold not only liquid but legacy.
Why Narrative Matters
What Las Calzadas reminds us is that wine stories are not marketing gimmicks. They are part of the wine itself. The Roman road is not a metaphor; it is there, running through vineyards. The tinajas are not nostalgic decorations; they are working vessels shaping flavour and identity. The field blends are not trends; they are continuity with a past that could easily have been forgotten.
Of course, points and medals also have their place — and it is worth noting that Tim Atkin awarded 92 points to Imperio 2023, bringing international recognition to Las Calzadas. For a winery producing just 25,000 bottles, rooted in old vines and traditional clay, this is no small achievement. It proves that authenticity and narrative can stand tall even when measured against much larger estates. Yet what makes the experience unforgettable is not only a number on a page. It is the story: vineyards brushing against Roman stones, wines shaped by clay, and a family’s determination to keep history alive.
Narrative matters because it transforms wine from a commodity into culture. My group of British tasters didn’t just enjoy the wines — they remembered them, connected to them, because they carried a story. They could see, touch, and taste the past made present.
Closing thought
When we finished our visit, I realised that this wasn’t just another stop on a wine route. It was a lesson in how powerful narrative can be when it is authentic. At Las Calzadas, the Roman stones, the old vines, the clay vessels, and the family’s dedication all come together in a way that no marketing department could ever invent.
At Sense Experiences, this is exactly what we strive for in every tour: finding and sharing the narratives that bring wine regions to life. A glass of wine becomes far more memorable when you can see the road beside the vineyard, meet the hands that shaped the clay amphora, or hear the history that flows through the vines.
If that kind of travel experience resonates with you, I’d love for you to reach out — and perhaps join us on a future tour.
Because in the end, isn’t that what makes us return to a bottle — not only the taste, but the tale?
