Ten vineyard escapes for lovers of a long lunch

Wine country runs on a different clock. Lunch starts at one and ends when it ends; the afternoon's only obligation is a tasting you can walk to; and the view from the terrace is the same one that's in your glass. These ten regions all offer the full package — handsome landscapes, estates that take guests, and food built to keep the bottle company. One rule applies everywhere: book a place to stay among the vines rather than in the nearest town, and let someone else worry about driving.

The postcard did not lie: cypress avenues, stone farmhouses and hills striped with vines between Florence and Siena. Base yourselves at an agriturismo near Greve or Radda, where tastings end with the winemaker opening something unlabelled. September, during the harvest, is the dream — but May gives you the same views with empty roads. Skip the big commercial cellars and phone ahead to small family estates instead.

The world's oldest demarcated wine region is also its most dramatic: vine terraces contour-lined down slate slopes to a slow green river. Stay at a quinta near Pinhão with a pool above the vines, taste ports where they were born, and take the historic train or a rabelo boat rather than driving the hairpins. Visit in late September to watch — or join — the grape treading at harvest.

A hundred and seventy kilometres of half-timbered villages, storks' nests and Grand Cru slopes along the Vosges foothills. The route between Riquewihr, Ribeauvillé and Eguisheim is the prettiest stretch, best explored by e-bike with a tasting-room pause every few miles. Rieslings and Gewurztraminers here are world class and oddly underpriced. Come in October when the vines turn gold, or December for the region's famous Christmas markets.

Spain's grandest wine region pairs medieval hill villages with startling modern architecture — Gehry's rippling titanium hotel at Marqués de Riscal rises straight out of the vines. Base yourselves in Laguardia, a walled hilltop town honeycombed with private cellars, and taste your way through Haro's bodega district. Book lunch at an asador for lamb chops grilled over vine cuttings, the region's unofficial signature dish.

A Huguenot-founded valley an hour from Cape Town, walled by mountains and dense with estates whose restaurants rank among the country's best. The hop-on wine tram trundles between cellar doors, solving the driving question entirely. Rand-for-pound the tastings, food and rooms are absurd value by European standards. Come in February for harvest heat, or June for log fires, red wine and misty peaks.

The steepest vineyards in the world hang almost vertically above a looping river studded with wine villages and castle ruins. Base yourselves in Bernkastel-Kues or tiny Beilstein, taste featherlight Rieslings in family cellars measured in centuries, and walk a stretch of the Moselsteig trail high above the water. September's wine festivals fill the squares; a river cruise at dusk shows off the valley best.

An hour from Vienna, the Danube swings through a gorge of terraced Grüner Veltliner vines, apricot orchards and villages that peaked aesthetically in the Baroque. Base yourselves in Dürnstein, beneath the ruined castle that once held Richard the Lionheart, and cycle the flat riverside path between heurigen — growers' taverns pouring their own wine under the vines. Come in April for apricot blossom, or October for harvest gold when the whole valley smells faintly of new wine.

A UNESCO-listed staircase of vine terraces dropping to Lake Geneva, with the Alps posing on the far shore — the Romans planted here, and the view has only improved. Walk the terrace path between Lutry and Saint-Saphorin, pausing at tiny caveaux where winegrowers pour Chasselas you'll struggle to find outside Switzerland. Trains run along the shore, so nobody has to drive. Go at golden hour on a September evening and try to leave; you won't manage it.

Barolo and Barbaresco country: fog-softened hills capped with castles, hazelnut groves and villages that take dinner extremely seriously. Stay in La Morra or Neive, taste Nebbiolo in cellars where patience is the house style, and time your visit for October and November — white truffle season, when Alba's market perfumes half the region. Book a truffle-hunting walk with a trifolau and his dog, then blow the budget on one tasting-menu dinner. You're both worth it.

Vines against the snow-capped Andes, Malbec at the source and asado lunches that make European wine regions look abstemious. Base yourselves among the wineries of Luján de Cuyo or the Uco Valley, where tastings come with mountain panoramas and lunch stretches shamelessly to five courses. February and March bring the harvest; November has spring sunshine and quieter cellar doors. Hire a driver for the day — the distances are big and the pours are generous.