Shuka

russian champagne

Sparkling
springs

The wisdom and the prime charm of the wild nature, the unbridled Saint-Petersburg revel. One enters the other. Ancient patterns of sandstone, marl and slate in frames on the walls of quiet noble estates. Ceremonial splashes of streams, mustache moistened with foam and kites with eagles above their heads. That’s how we imagine the Russian champagne from Derbent.

The wisdom and the prime charm of the wild nature, the unbridled Saint-Petersburg revel. One enters the other. Ancient patterns of sandstone, marl and slate in frames on the walls of quiet noble estates. Ceremonial splashes of streams, mustache moistened with foam and kites with eagles above their heads. That’s how we imagine the Russian champagne from Derbent.

  • The wall of ancient citadel Narın-Kala at the Derbent’s vineyard

  • The ornamentation of the ancient tombstones of Kala-Kureish

  • The facade of Shuka’s office is covered with sandstone tiles

Derbent is a city in the very south of Russia. The city at the foot of the Caucasus. Through it to the west flows the river Sukhodol. Next is the Caspian Sea. South of Derbent, under the weight of ripe Riesling and Chardonnay, a vine bends. These are the vineyards of the Derbent wine-making company; today there are five of them, so as the types of sparkling flowing from here to all regions of Russia.

A long time ago, Peter the Great visited Derbent — it was on the way during the Persian campaign. After a banquet in the oak forest, he was sealed off with spring water from a stalactite cave. Now the oak forest is Petrovskaya Grove, and the spring is called Russian. The Persian campaign for the Russian Empire ended with the annexation of Derbent: Peter ordered to cultivate grapes here and by the next birthday the Empress was served the local muscat.

After Peter’s visit to Derbent, the oak wood where he had feasted was renamed in his honour

A hundred years after, the exiled Decembrist Alexander Bestuzhev wrote from Derbent: “These mountains in the virgin cover of winter, these rivers, swollen with melting snow, these spring storms, these rains scattering with greens and flowers, and the freshness of mountains, and the breath of meadows, and the sky framed rainbow ridges and clouds. There, only there you can forget that there is bile in our heart, that there is grief near us.”

  • The nature of Derbent compelled Alexander Bestuzhev to forget the bitterness of human hearts

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