Vintìa is a whim of the wind, stubborn son of sirocco and north wind. Salento's wind, which shakes the vines and caresses the stones. Vintìa is an ageless little earthy whim, good only to make us wine, is thirsty root that digs until the sea reaches. Vintìa is a never-ending love whim, written angrily on the walls of rocks at the confines of the world. Vintìa is a whim...