We drive along Highway 1, the scenery changing from a bustling cosmopolitan city to a scene from a medieval painting. We are driving from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. Eli Ben-Zaken, owner of Domaine du Castel, is speaking in his soft, slightly hoarse voice: 'I used to think the art of survival was one stage of existence while the art of living was the next stage. But now, I've come to realise that the art of survival is part of the art of living.' He says this without bitterness or sadness, just a personal observation; a nugget of wisdom from a man who has lived through several wars.
Military conflict and uncertainty is a way of life in Israel. Like all Israeli citizens, Ben-Zaken's three children served in the army - three years for his two boys and two years' mandatory service for his daughter. I read David Grossman's beautifully written novel about an Israeli mother's struggle with life and meaning while her son is in the army during a time of conflict. But I still wasn't prepared for everyday life in the epicentre of such uncertainty.
While Ben-Zaken talks about his high density vineyards planted at 6,600 vines per hectare (three times the country's average), I am wondering why a young couple who had a good, safe life in Italy chose to establish roots in a precarious country like Israel. He is talking about the challenges of vineyard management 740 metres above sea level in the Judean Hills during these recent drought years, while I am amazed that despite continual conflicts and terrorist attacks, Ben-Zaken chooses to be part of an industry that creates for the next generation.
We drive for about 40 minutes and the old city of Jerusalem, with remains of its walls, thousands of years old, comes into view. The city has an ochre-coloured glow. 'That is all Jerusalem limestone,' Ben-Zaken explains. 'We are not allowed to use any other stone to build in this city.' Synagogues, mosques, churches exist adjacent to and sometimes on top of each other. Crusader arches meet Roman columns and orthodox Greek lamps. Fragments of history are everywhere. My foggy memory of religious education in college is jarred awake by a statue of King David, who ruled from this site 3,000 years ago; I remember fragments from the Bible as I pass through the site of Christ's crucifixion, burial and the Temple Mount.
Suddenly, I understand a little about why one might choose to live in this place rather than anywhere else in the world. Ben-Zaken is thoughtful as we are driving back to Tel Aviv. 'I feel really old. I've lived a million lives and I am not afraid of dying. I have seen and done so much in my life, when it happens, it happens. One can't be afraid of death.' He smiles, his tone grateful without a touch of weariness.
There are now about 300 wineries in Israel, most of them small boutique producers aiming for quality wine. The best wines listed below reflect the hopes and dreams of the people who live in the midst of a turbulent reality and make wine for the love of it.