Santorini, Greece: Fine vines among the fiery volcanoes

(Telegraph) - For many the Aegean island of Santorini means one thing: sun. But Nina Caplan is attracted by its distinctive wine.

Surely the best antidote to the unending grey (and rain) of a British January is a vision in bright white, topped with azure and studded with fuchsia: a hot-climate colour combination that comes with the useful side benefit of nurturing great grapes. You can uncork a bottle of assyrtiko from Santorini – itself a pure pale gold reminiscent of sunshine – or better yet, schedule a trip to this tiny volcanic island where the houses are roofed in Mediterranean blue and decorated with a shocking-pink flower that would offset our winter sky beautifully, if only it could be persuaded to grow here.

Actually, it’s amazing that Santorini has any greenery at all, much less perky flora and superb vines, because the sunshine that calls to us Brits like the song of a Mediterranean Siren can also lure growing things to their doom. The fat grapes of Santorini, like the withered denizens of northern Europe, thrive on sunshine, but in summer, like pale-skinned tourists, they can get too much of a good thing, particularly on a porous island where water is so scarce residents have been known to gather the morning dew.

The winemakers of this Greek outcrop long ago found a unique solution to this problem, with the result that, as well as breath-catching sea views, black-sand beaches, spectacular sunsets and an abundance of the kind of restaurant that stations a man outside to entice you in and doesn’t blink twice at an order of omelette and chips, Santorini boasts its own grape varieties and an ingenious method of cultivating them despite the intense heat and lack of shade. Or water. Or peace and quiet, given that this is a 30-square-mile island with two volcanoes.