Metro’s drinks columnist Rob Buckhaven lets us in on a secret wine haven (Picture: Getty Images) I’ve been to an absurd number of vineyards.   In fact, I’ve visited over 100. That’s not meant to be a flex. As a drinks columnist, I’m just lucky to be invited on some pretty amazing work trips.   You name it, from England, France, Spain, Greece, Portugal, Italy, Romania, Argentina, South Africa to Thailand, I’ve probably been there and tried a tipple or two. But there’s one that knocked my socks off. Largely down to its location, and the wines, of course. Gaia is located on the eastern side of the Greek island of Santorini, about 15 minutes drive from the capital Fira, and 30 minutes Oia, the other major tourist town. Founded in 1994 by Yiannis Paraskevopoulos and Leon Karatsalos, today two generations of both families are involved in the business. Sparkly Leto (Lito) Paraskevopoulos, Yiannis’s daughter, gave us our tasting and tour, and brought the whole place to life while her father watched on proudly. It felt like we were part of something special.  Not a bad view to try some serious vintages (Picture: Robertson Buckhaven) The winery is housed in a converted early-20th century tomato factory on the black sand of Monolithos Beach. And while many wineries describe themselves as ‘coastal’, for most, you’d have to climb onto the roof with a pair of binoculars to see anything resembling the sea.   Not Gaia. This one is parked right beside the Aegean Sea, located just a few feet from the water. Forget clinical tasting rooms, you can sit under the shade of a tamarisk tree sipping their sublime range of wines, whilst the sea spray hits your cheeks. I did, and it’s utter bliss. Greece might not have the swagger of France, Spain or Italy when it comes to winemaking, but it definitely punches above its weight. Leto brought wine to life in a beautiful setting overlooking the sea (Picture: Robertson Buckhaven) Their reputation for producing coarse, rustic wines (Retsina) has now shifted to internationally celebrated styles, thanks to younger winemakers using modern techniques. Don’t forget, wine has been made there for over 6,500 years, so they know their stuff. They also have access to hundreds of local grapes, ancient vines and some seriously unique terroir.  We’ve all seen the thirst-trappy images of tourist-plagued Santorini. The deep, wine-dark Aegean sea set against the blindingly whitewashed cave houses, piled up along the steep cliffs and punctuated by cobalt-blue domed churches. It’s the dreamy vision of what a European holiday should be.   But Santorini is more than that. It’s the remains of an enormous volcano that blew its lid around 3,600 years ago. Head away from the famous caldera views to the island’s eastern side and the landscape changes dramatically: black volcanic earth, pumice and beaches the colour of charcoal. It’s a scene straight out of Jurassic Park.  And as if Santorini needed more tricks up its sleeve, it’s also a wine lover’s dream destination.    Gaia’s flagship wine is its Thalassitis Assyrtiko, a white wine that tastes as dramatic as the island looks: bone dry, fiercely fresh and intensely mineral, with an invigoratingly saline edge. If you’re into Spanish Albariño, you’ll be a sucker for this.  Pure bliss at Gaia on Santorini (Picture: Rob Buckhaven) Gaia is famously pioneering, too, experimenting with submerging bottles 25 metres deep in the Aegean to age beneath the water. The darkness, relatively stable temperature and high pressure create a fascinating alternative to conventional cellar ageing.  There’s almost no rain during growing season. The sun is relentless, the wind can be vicious and the soil is so poor, you’d excuse a vine for requesting a transfer for somewhere more hospitable, like Provence.   And yet, the native Assyrtiko grape positively thrives there. And thank goodness it does.   The secret is partly down to one of the strangest-looking vineyard techniques you’ll ever see. Rather than training their vines neatly along wires, in Santorini they weave them into low, circular baskets called kouloura. Greece might not have the swagger of France, Spain or Italy when it comes to winemaking, but it punches above its weight (Picture: Rob Buckhaven) They look like giant abandoned birds’ nests dotted across the lunar landscape, with the grapes safely tucked up inside, protected from the island’s punishing conditions.   And if, like me, you’re an anorak for ancient root systems, here’s where things get exciting. Santorini’s sandy volcanic soils meant the island escaped phylloxera, the nasty little louse that devastated most of Europe’s vineyards in the 19th century. As a result the vines here grow ungrafted on their own roots, with some reaching extraordinary ages. It’s an incredible rarity nowadays.   Somehow, you can taste all this struggle in the glass. Gaia’s Assyrtiko has an electricity to it, like being plugged directly into the mains, in the best possible way. The vineyard doesn’t have a dedicated restaurant, but they serve wine with cold platters of local delicacies such as rusk bread with tomato paste and capers, Cycladic cheeses, and Santorini Fava, a creamy puree made from yellow split peas. Getting there Fly from the the UK to Santorini Thira Airport. Direct flights from Gatwick, Heathrow, Birmingham or Stansted take roughly 4 hours with British Airways, easyJet, Jet2 or Ryanair. The winery is open to visitors from April 29 to October 31, from midday to 8pm daily. Allow a couple of hours as it’s there to be savoured, not smashed and grabbed. The town of Kamari is nearby if you want to make a day of it, so too are other vineyards worth a visit. Estate Argyros, Domaine Sigalas and Santo Wines are three of the best.   If you only have time for one though, it’s Gaia all the way. I’ve visited more than 100 vineyards. I’d happily make this 101 by visiting this one twice. Other Greek destinations to try while you're at it Rhodes: the Greek island with gorgeous walking trails and quaint tavernas Ithaca: otherworldly beaches and mythical festivals Lefkada: the ‘Greek Caribbean’ Tinos: ‘the Greek island I keep going back to’ Antiparos: the ‘secret’ Greek island tourists haven’t found yet