The Challenge of Chile

There is no country longer than Chile. And comparatively, none as thin. Chile's long and skinny dimension brings with it a vast diversity of microclimates and soils — and enormous challenges in communication.

Diversity in abundance

In the north lies the Atacama Desert, the driest in the world (outside of the poles). It slices Chile off from the rest of the continent with its arid, harsh terrain, sparsely populated save for the isolated oases in the altiplano, transient mining towns, and small cities dotted along the coast. 

Vines are few and far between, but they have been cultivated here for centuries — hardy communities in the altiplano grow grapes alongside quinoa and maize, while a small but growing wine scene is emerging closer to the coast where conditions are cooler.



To the far south, Chile tapers into a labyrinth of fjords and archipelagos as South America disappears into the Southern Ocean — the final stepping stone before Antarctica. Also relatively inhospitable, the deep south is the domaine of sheep farmers and seaweed harvesters, who brave intense winds and freezing rains in exchange for immense skies and pristine landscapes. Along the entire western edge of Chile lies the Pacific Ocean, its shores lashed by waves that have travelled unbroken for thousands of miles. The Humboldt Current delivers icy waters up from the Antarctic, chilling the coastline, deterring swimmers, and fostering a rich marine ecosystem.

To the east, the Andes — the longest continental mountain chain on Earth and the highest outside the Himalayas — form a natural barrier between Chile and Argentina. For centuries, crossing these peaks was only possible on horseback via treacherous narrow passes and steep ravines. Even now, the hairpin roads and turbulent flights demand nerves of steel.

These four natural frontiers have made Chile one of the world's most geographically isolated wine- producing nations — but also one of the safest. The only major wine-producing country untouched by phylloxera, Chile has remained largely disease-free and has seen minimal intervention from external forces. More than 30,000 hectares of vines are over 75 years old, offering a rare living legacy of pre-phylloxera genetics. Particularly in the south, ancient field blends abound — making it one of the world's most important repositories of historical vine material.

In the central heartland, where most of Chile's vineyards lie (in the unimaginatively named Central Valley), a complex patchwork of terrain unfolds. Two mountain chains dominate — the towering Andes to the east, and the older coastal range to the west. Between them stretch foggy river valleys, rolling hills, and volcanoes.



Chile is one of the most topographically diverse wine countries.

The challenge of creating and communicating an appellation system

How do you divide a country like Chile? North to south? East to west? In recent years, the answer has been: both. But even so, the appellation system still feels unsatisfying. In the 1970s, Chile was divided into 16 administrative regions (running north to south), further subdivided into 56 provinces and 346 municipalities. These geopolitical divisions have long been used to define Chile's 39 wine regions. But they vary wildly in size and vineyard area. Maule, for instance, has over 50,000 hectares under vine, while Los Lagos has barely a dozen. Even at the municipal level, the scale is inconsistent — some municipalities have just a few hectares, others thousands (San Javier in Maule alone has over 8,000 hectares). Yet, this is the most granular data currently collected by the Chilean government.

While useful for administration, these divisions tell us little about what really shapes Chilean wine — climate and geology. Although latitude does come into play, far more influential is the region's proximity to either the Andes or the coast. And that's where topographical designations, introduced in 2012, start to make more sense. Three transversal zones that run across all its regions were assigned throughout the country: Costa, for the coastal wine regions; Andes, for the mountainous wine regions at the foothills of the Andes; and Entre Cordilleras, meaning between mountain ranges, for those regions that fall in- between.



These designations offer far more insight. For instance, the Aconcagua region spans all three. A wine labelled Aconcagua Costa is likely a zesty Sauvignon Blanc or taut Chardonnay, worlds apart from the dense Cabernet Sauvignon or Carmenère grown in Aconcagua Andes or Entre Cordilleras. It's an important distinction, and it would be rare (and quite inadvisable) to find the same varieties in each region.

However, despite their value, not everyone uses them. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of wines I've seen labelled 'Entre Cordilleras' — even though most of the country's vineyards fall into this category. 'Andes' and 'Costa', which sound more appealing to consumers, are used far more often. Chile's Denomination of Origin (DO) system is built on those same administrative regions, provinces, or municipalities. But in recent years, a handful of producers have successfully applied for more specific, meaningful DOs that reflect distinctive terroirs — such as Lo Abarca, Apalta, and Los Lingues. These DOs are few, but growing. To make things more complex, Chile also has DOs for certain wine styles — like Pajarete, a traditional sweet wine. Helpful for some, but potentially confusing for others.

How to communicate Chile?

Perhaps it's still early days. Chile has 500 years of winegrowing history, yet detailed research into its terroirs is only beginning. The current lack of a rigid system may, in fact, offer producers a degree of freedom to explore and express their sites more intuitively before codifying them.

Still, I believe this fluidity might be holding Chile back from commanding the upper echelons of the fine wine market. For mass-market wines, regional clarity matters less. But at the premium level, sommeliers and wine buyers want to understand why a vineyard or region imparts its particular flavour. Without a more coherent system, Chile risks handicapping itself — especially when compared to the detailed regional narratives of neighbouring Argentina or the AVAs of California.

Chile has all the elements: old vines, phylloxera-free soils, ancient varieties, breathtaking landscapes, and world-class talent. Now it needs a unified vision to communicate its complexity — one that producers, trade, and institutions can all embrace.

I believe in Chile's potential. It is one of the most exciting, diverse, and dynamic wine countries in the New World. The challenge — and it's a big one — is how to split this Rubik's cube of a country into understandable pieces, without losing sight of the magic of the whole.

Amanda Barnes MW has been based in South America since 2009 and is author of The South America Wine Guide (southamericawineguide.com/book).