One of the best things I did when spending time in Split was take a tour of the Putalj Winery. This three-hour experience taught me a lot about the fascinating history of wine-making in the Dalmatia region, accompanied by great wine, good company, and very gracious hosts.
If you have an evening free, I would highly recommend making a reservation!
- The tour costs €130, with a €30 deposit upon booking and balance due after the tour (cash preferred)
- Reservations only
- Pick-up and drop-off at a pre-arranged designated point
- Tour runs from 18:30 to 21:30
- Includes unlimited red and rosé wine, and charcuterie including bread, prosciutto, cheese, and olives
Starting the Putalj Winery Tour
Our driver pulls up around 6pm at our villa, jumping out with a cheery greeting and ushering us into a blessedly air-conditioned mini-van. Since we were staying on the outskirts of Split, in Podstrana, the winery had kindly agreed to collect us from where we were staying instead of the usual designated pick-up point in the middle of Split.
The driver, like most of the people we’d encountered in Croatia so far, is incredibly friendly, excitedly going over the tour agenda with us and sincerely hoping we have a good time.
He explains he’ll first be dropping us off at the vineyard, where we’d have wine and nibbles and a good look around, then he’ll be picking us up again for a short journey to the winemakers home, for more wine-tasting, a view into their cellar, and even more nibbles.
We pick up a few more people on the way; a very sweet American couple celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary by touring Europe, and a trio of girls who keep to themselves, but also manage to be the loudest of the tour group.
The view on the way up to the vineyard is incredible: vast mountains stretching across untouched scrubland, dotted by hardy trees and splashes of wildflower colour. The sun is just beginning to set, washing the white cliffs with swathes of pink and orange.
The Putalj Vineyard
Dropped off at a small car park, we make our way down a steep path to the vineyard, pausing a few times to take pictures and take in the scenery. A cat winds its way through some nearby bushes, ignoring our calls, clearly intent on its own business.
The hosts meet us at the gate, all smiles and welcomes, and we learn they’re the owner’s niece and daughter. They quickly get us situated on the enclosed patio at the top of the vineyard, tables and chairs set out with bottles of rosé wine and water, and plates of cheese and fresh bread.
The large glass windows are flung open, the low drone of insects and birdcalls accentuating the backdrop of rows upon rows of leafy green vines. The temperate is dropping with the approach of dusk, bringing the scent of flowers and earthy peat to us on a pleasantly warm breeze. The Zinfandel Rosé is dry, light, fruity and refreshing, a wine intended for sipping in summer. It pairs perfectly.
Our hosts invite us to sip and snack as they talk about the centuries their vineyard has stayed in the family, producing wine through times both thick and thin. Interestingly, Zinfandel grapes have actually recently had their origins traced back all the way back to Split, grown since at least the 15th century.
It’s a fascinating look into the history of both their business and the local area, of the lives people led here throughout both the Ottoman Empire and Communist times.
Afterwards, they invite us to explore the vineyard itself, and with glasses of wine in hand, we thread through the grape-heavy vines, looking out over the expansive landscapes and chatting more with the hosts.
They tell us about how when the harvest-time hits, the whole family work constantly for six days, snipping each bunch off the vine with a pair of scissors for long hours and carting them down to the winery load by load.
The Putalj Winemakers House
After the wine is drunk and the bread and cheese long gone, we clamber back up the steep path to the mini-van, ready for the next part of the tour. A short 10-minute drive brings us to the Winemakers House, where we’re immediately greeted by several cats. Kept onsite to keep the mice population down, a few are wary, but a couple of the younger ones are intent on joining us for dinner, having to be hilariously rebuffed by the hosts many times.
We’re led into the small cellar where the wine is currently being aged in rows of vast steel vats and oak barrels, and poured a measure of each red – Zinfandel from the steel vat, and Plavac Mali from the oak barrel. Unusually, our group votes the Plavac Mali the favourite; apparently the Zinfandel is normally the more popular choice!
Finally, we sit down to tables groaning under the weight of the cheeses, bread, olives, meats and olive oil laid out for us. Our favourite wines are passed out, and I happily pour out a few measures of the Plavac Mali. It’s deep and fruity, with a complex flavour, and I prefer it to the spicier yet lighter Zinfandel.
It’s a wonderful evening, and when the driver comes to collect us, we’re sent off with the wine we didn’t finish, corked and boxed.
Carefully carrying our precious cargo, we say goodbye to our amazing hosts and their indifferent cats, then to our new American friends in the city centre, and finally to our cheerful driver as he drops us off to continue the party at home. Our heads didn’t thank us in the morning, but we’d definitely to it all over again!