Reach

You really do feel nearer the sky in Rueda. The region, one of Spain's three white Denominación de Origens (DO), is located 2,300ft above sea level on the country's high central plateau - the biggest in Europe, extending over 400 square miles. The journey from Madrid is uphill all the way, you don't stop climbing until you've scaled the coastal peaks in the far north.

The Moors rather rudely called this region "Tierra de Nadie", the land of nothing - and on a damp, drizzly day, when the rust earth is boggy from the monotonous rain and the clouds are low and grey, you can't help empathising - until you see the vineyards.

They are scattered among cereal fields - mostly in the province of Valladolid but also in Avila and Segovia, between the river Duero and the town of Medina de Campo - on barely undulating hills broken by ugly pylons. It doesn't have the jagged beauty of neighbouring region Ribera del Duero, and the towns are of the one-horse kind, but it has castles aplenty, bull-ring bravado, and it has quadrupled exports of its wine in the past five years.

Rueda is good restaurant-wine territory. Its wines rarely hit the £65-a-case (excluding VAT) mark and there is much that is gluggable at £45 a case.

A grape called Verdejo is the business here - not to be confused with Verdelho, the Portuguese variety that soldiers on in Madeira and is making a name for itself in Australia, where it creates vibrant, lemony whites. "Verdejo is the star of our deal," says Maria Francisca Fernandez, who promotes the region's wines at DO regulatory body Consejo Regulador de Rueda.

While Verdejo does make a characterful white, it was the "foreign" variety, Sauvignon Blanc, that consistently impressed the most at tastings.

The reds, too, were surprisingly good. This isn't a red wine region - yet. Ribera del Duero is only next door, and while there are some climate differences, such as less rain and higher temperatures, Rueda shares many of its neighbour's characteristics - most importantly, soil types.

And all the wine-makers visited were eager to talk about Rueda's potential for red, showing off their new cellars, cement still wet, with lines of unused oak waiting for fruit. They displayed the labours of their young red vines - a Tempranillo that was simple but with a bloody nose and chewy tannins. The reds of Rueda don't have a DO yet, that's about five years away, though the Consejo is just beginning to encourage exports of them in their Viña de la Tierra Medina de Campo (Vins de Pays) state.

Meanwhile, the whites remain the focus. The star grape, Verdejo, was given a push in the 1970s when the more experimental bodegas replaced old wine-making equipment with stainless steel. When cold fermentation and skin contact arrived, Rueda's wine-makers discovered characteristics in Verdejo they had never thought possible. It has straw-yellow, dense fruit, sometimes spicy, sometimes delicately herby, and mostly fresh - when it's harvested at the right moment and rushed to the press - and an attractive, bitter finish that sets the grape apart from other Spanish whites.

Rioja producer Marqués de Riscal was one of the first to discover Verdejo's potential. Having initially looked to Galicia and Penedés for a white-wine vineyard to complement its famous reds, the bodega eventually chose Rueda. Says wine-maker Pedro Aznar: "Viura [a Rioja white grape] doesn't have the aromas that Verdejo has. And you can do anything with it."

One of the most forward-thinking bodegas, Palacio Bornos, has planted 20 different clones of the grape in various soil types to establish its true potential. The only factor not being controlled is the weather, says the winery's Ricardo Sanz. But 1997 was not a good year. Just before flowering finished, a nasty wind blew in with a late frost. Hail in May and June added to the winery's difficulties, and production totals were down 66% on other years - Sanz harvested 2,000kg per hectare of grapes as opposed to a normal yield of 6,000-8,000kg per hectare. "But we got a lot out of what was left," he says, as barrel samples were to prove.

Rueda was awarded the DO in 1980 after some hard graft to improve quality following the Second World War. Before that, phylloxera had carried out its usual destruction, and replanting and rebuilding lost reputations proved a slow process. Today, the DO comprises a vineyard area of 6,649 hectares. Yields are low because of climate swings that range from desert-like heat in summer to a Siberian chill in the winter - temperatures can drop to -7ºC. There's the risk of frost, and hail too, about every five years or so.

As well as Verdejo, permitted grapes for Rueda DO wines are Sauvignon Blanc, Palomino Fino and Viura. The top wine, DO Rueda Superior, must be at least 85% Verdejo. DO Rueda can be a blend of the permitted wines but with a maximum of 50% Palomino and/or Viura. Viura is usually the last to be harvested and, with its weaker skin, is the grape most affected by bad conditions. But it can round out Verdejo's potential austerity and help out in the oxidisation stakes.

In fact, the blended wines were often the most interesting. Agustín Goitre, director of the family-owned Vinos Sanz, believes that Verdejo's future lies with the blends, specifically with Viura, but more than just a dollop - half-and-half works best. "At 80:20, Verdejo still needs softening out," he says. Many wine-makers have also rediscovered the benefits of a blast in oak, which can add complexity and creaminess.

The "second star" after Rueda Superior is Sauvignon Blanc, according to Fernández from the Consejo, and she reports that sales have grown astronomically. The grape, which became a permitted variety in 1992, loves the iron-rich, limestone-based soil of the region and gives out a lip-smacking, gooseberry fruit more usually associated with the New World.

We stayed clear of the DO Pálido and DO Dorado wines. "We don't want to make these kind of wines any more - they are dead," says Juan de Benito at Bodegas Alvarez y Diez. But he leaves the casks next to his new stainless steel tanks. "They're good for keeping the cellar insulated in the winter," he laughs.

Loose scrub bouncing through the deserted main street of Rueda town gives it a frontier feel, but it is clear that business is good and getting better. Outside the town's oldest bodega, Alberto Guitierez, sits a new red Porsche, and director Miguel Melida jangles its keys as he walks us through the kilometre-long caves chipped out 10m below the town. Melida claims he produces a third of the region's wines (a claim, incidentally, also trotted out by four other bodegas we visited).

Rueda's export figures have doubled to around 1,400 million bottles in the past year alone, and the Sauvignon Blanc in particular is setting itself up as a serious contender to the best from the New World. A region to watch.