It was a land almost untouched. Legend has it that its forests were so dense and vast that a squirrel could traverse the entire territory, from the Pyrenees to Gibraltar, without ever setting foot on the ground.
Here and there, however, the landscape was punctuated by human settlements encircled by walls or defensive ditches—because sooner or later, enemies would inevitably emerge from the shadowy woodland.
Near these settlements, their inhabitants erected imposing megalithic structures—menhirs, dolmens, and cromlechs—standing as immutable witnesses to their beliefs and enigmatic customs.
These early peoples, whose genetic legacy endures in modern-day Portuguese, were the result of a fusion between native western hunter-gatherers (WGE) and Anatolian-origin farmers. They lived at the threshold between the Neolithic and the Chalcolithic eras.
It was during this transitional period that these early inhabitants likely made their first serious attempts at domesticating a wild vine with sweet berries which climbed the trees along rivers and streams. Evidence of this process includes phytoliths, ceramics, pollen analysis, charred grape seeds, and ancient plant DNA.
Archaeological findings confirm that the vine (Vitis vinifera) was well established long before the emergence of Iberian civilizations. Palynological studies—examining fossilized pollen—reveal the presence of wild grapevines in the Tagus and Douro valleys dating back some 4,000 to 5,000 years.
However, these findings do not provide direct proof of winemaking. The same applies to charred grape seeds unearthed in the Algarve and the Sado River. Some scholars believe that wild vines had thrived in Iberia since the Tertiary period, which ended around 2.6 million years ago.
With such prolonged coexistence, these native vines must have offered the first glimpses of wine to their early inhabitants. This comes as no surprise, given that grape juice naturally ferments without human intervention.
Yet, these primitive wines were vastly different from those we know today. Lacking the vinification techniques that would arrive much later, they would have been raw, tannic, and untamed, with excessive acidity and pronounced earthy notes.
Still, for those ancient peoples, each sip of this liquid must have been a heady revelation—a promise of future delights.
That promise would begin to be fulfilled with the opulent Tartessians, a people who left behind cryptic inscriptions such as those found on the Stele VI of Fonte Velha (pictured above).
The Tartessian civilization attained near-legendary status due to their mastery in trading precious metals and their sudden, unexplained disappearance from the archaeological record.
Yet, their commerce extended beyond gold and silver. They likely traded wine as well, produced in regions now known as Alentejo and the Algarve.
One can only imagine the sensory experience of these ancient wines. Given the rudimentary storage methods, they may have been sweet, resinous, and carried lingering notes of dried fruits or toasted almonds.
Arriving from the Levant, the Phoenicians established trading posts along the coastline, stretching from Olisipo (Lisbon) to ancient Baesuris (Castro Marim).
Masters of commerce and seafaring, they introduced not only advanced agricultural techniques but also exotic grape varieties and innovative winemaking practices. They revolutionized wine transportation and storage through the use of skin pouches and their renowned clay amphorae.
Their cultural exchange with local populations gradually refined the profile of Iberian wines, making them more complex and aromatic.
Yet, they remained predominantly sweet, as the Phoenicians introduced grape varieties like the sugar-rich Muscat. These grapes had origins near their Eastern Mediterranean homeland, as suggested by the 'Alexandria' reference in the Muscat of Alexandria variety.
Virtually unchanged since those pre-Christian times, these grapes—depicted above—are still used today in the production of Setúbal’s fortified wines and others around the country and the world.
Less inclined toward sweet aromas, the Greeks arrived shortly thereafter on Portugal’s southern and southwestern coasts. They brought with them more sophisticated pruning techniques, improved grape-pressing methods, and the curious habit of diluting wine with water (for the Greeks, only barbarians or the uncultured drank undiluted wine).
Lovers of order, the Greeks also valued controlled fermentation.
Greek kraters—large mixing vessels—discovered near Alcácer do Sal suggest that Hellenic culture elevated wine from a rustic beverage to an essential element of elaborate social rituals.
Kraters were used to dilute wine for philosophical gatherings, religious ceremonies, and symposia—the famous Greek banquets.
The Greek use of specific drinking vessels—such as the kylix shown above—further emphasizes that wine was not merely an alcoholic drink but a vehicle for social interaction, cultural refinement, and hierarchical status.
Given the coastal fermentation sites, these Greek-influenced wines may have carried subtle saline notes, along with refined aromas of dried figs and aromatic herbs.
The Celts penetrated the northern and central territories of Portugal during the first millennium BC. Over time, they merged with the Iberian peoples, forming the Celtiberian civilization.
The Celts introduced iron tools to the northern Iberian agriculture, significantly improving cultivation and harvest efficiency.
Their metallurgical expertise also advanced cooperage and the storage of fermented beverages.
Although more inclined toward beer and mead, the Celtic love for feasts and revelry suggests that wine found a welcome place in their society.
While no direct evidence links the Celts to specific grape varieties, some indications suggest they encouraged the spread of vines resilient to cold climates and suited to poor soils in humid or mountainous regions—such as those found in Dão or Minho.
Beyond planting vines that would later become integral to Portugal’s viticultural identity, they also carried with them a deep mythological connection to agriculture. For the Iberian Celts, the vine may have symbolized fertility and the cycle of life—an interpretation that persists in Portuguese culture to this day.
This notion would later be expanded and reinforced by the people who would dethrone them after centuries of conflict—the Romans, who, inevitably, emerged from the shadowy forest. But that is a story for another chapter…