Valladolid, and the Table That Kept Growing from the VinoInfluencers World Awards 2026
This was my first time at the VinoInfluencers World Awards, and I arrived in Valladolid not quite knowing what to expect — only that the week had promised to be magical. It kept that promise before I’d even unpacked.
The wine train pulled in and the week began the way the best wine weeks always do: not with trophies, but with people.
A bus met us at the station and carried us to the International School of Cooking, where we shared a welcome breakfast, collected our credentials, and listened to a few words from the Head of Tourism for Castilla y León. Then came the first small secret of the week: we’d be sent into the vineyards with our destinations unannounced, so the land could introduce itself before anyone told us its name.
Two of those afternoons have already made their way onto the page — the gates swinging open onto Dehesa de los Canónigos on Ribera del Duero’s Golden Mile, and the color and clarete of Cigales at Bodegas Sinforiano. But what stays with me most isn’t any single stop. It’s the shape of the days around them — the way Castilla y León gathered a room full of the world for three days and nights, and how, somewhere in the middle of it, a nomination quietly found its place. Never at the center. Always among friends.
An Evening of Roses and Choreography
The welcome evening at Villa Augusta Spa & Garden in Arroyo de la Encomienda brought roses, chandeliers, and the gentle choreography of an event determined to make you feel beautiful while still getting you on the bus by nine. VWA Connect brought wineries and communicators together from around the globe, conversation flowing easily across tables not yet set for ceremony.
We made a few new discoveries that night, chief among them Bodegas Marqués de Cáceres’ Los Altares Gran Reserva Blanco de Guarda 2016 — creamy, yet lifted by a refreshing thread of acidity, finishing long, poised, and wonderfully complex. There was also an impromptu Sherry tasting with Ruth Amaya of Vinos de Jerez, the kind of unplanned moment that so often turns out to be the best one of the night.
Wine Routes, and the Scent of Harvest
Friday sent us out again along the Wine Routes, each group following its own thread of adventure, the scent of harvest still hanging in the air. By seven we were back; by 8:15, another bus carried us into Valladolid, to the Tourist Office and Exhibition Hall of San Benito, for the pre-awards gala.
There were speeches, meet-and-greets, and that particular hush of anticipation that settles in before a big night. One of my personal highlights, every time, is seeing Laura Catena — one of my favorite women in wine, and a woman with a rare gift for making everyone in the room feel welcome, her smile as infectious as her energy.
That evening was also when the room cast its vote for Nos Impulsa Castilla y León — not a jury prize, but a peer prize honoring charisma, professionalism, commitment, and camaraderie. The winners would be revealed at the gala, and by the time we left, the anticipation for the next day was electric.
Stepping outside for a breath of fresh air brought its own discovery: Javier Abrego’s Re-Cordis, a “fever dream” Malbec, juicy and vibrant, bursting with blackberry, ripe plum, violet, and a whisper of spice — plush on the palate, beautifully balanced, utterly moreish. It was the kind of wine that makes you pause mid-conversation and quietly go back for another glass. The label tells its own story too: a romantic scene of Javier’s family universe, from his father down to his daughter, Catalina. Beautiful, in every sense.
A Sea of White, and a Few Surprise Pours
Saturday opened with the Prelude Awards at Sotoverde, sunlight catching in the glass before anyone had changed for the evening. The crowd moved in a sea of white between tapas, MasterChef Carlos Alba’s oyster creations, laughter, and wine samplings gathered from across Spain — with a few surprises tucked in along the way.
Luis XIV was expressive, ripe dark fruit meeting gentle spice and a polished finish. The Fondillón offered dried fig, raisin, and toasted nuts against a balanced sweetness, while the Fondillón Gran Solera 1980 was utterly captivating — layers of date, caramel, walnut, and orange peel unfolding one after another. These were wines built for sipping slowly, between conversations, while the afternoon gathered itself around us.
A welcome change of pace arrived from Bolivia: high-altitude wines from Tarija showing freshness, concentration, and elegance. My personal star among them was the Campos de Solana Esther Ortiz Petit Verdot — blackberry, black plum, violet, and spice, with fine tannins, lively acidity, and a long, polished finish. Pure high-altitude elegance, the kind of wine that seems to say, quietly, look at me, and wonder.
The Gala
The grand finale was the VinoInfluencers Gala itself, and it unfolded exactly as galas do: a green-carpet arrival, photographs among nominees and invitees, and the unmistakable sense that it was finally, actually time. Music and entertainment carried the evening forward, building toward ten gold cups celebrating ten different ways of telling the story of wine — style, travel, marketing, communication, consulting, events, education, sommellerie, gastronomy, and the prize chosen by the room itself.
My name was among the nominees for Wine Educator Innovation. The award went elsewhere. But winning, I’ve learned, was never really the point. What stayed with me instead was a quieter kind of recognition — for the journey itself: the long hours, the leap from project management into wine, a young family waiting at home, and the courage it took to start from scratch in a place not exactly known for vines.
This calling still draws me forward. I suspect it always will.
As the hall emptied, the foyer filled. The Wine Experience began — tables from participating bodegas, a gastronomic celebration of Castilla y León’s PDOs and PGIs, and live interviews carrying winemakers’ stories from Spain out to the rest of the world.
This is the part of these gatherings I trust most — not the stage, but the pour afterward, when jackets loosen, someone offers you a glass, and the conversation simply starts again.
What I Carry Home
Perhaps that’s the greatest gift Castilla y León gave us that week: not only its wines, but its welcome. The hospitality was generous, thoughtful, and deeply personal, from that first breakfast to the final farewell. This is a region of extraordinary diversity — Ribera del Duero’s power, Cigales’ color and freshness, the weight of its historic appellations, and so many more stories still waiting to be told.
I leave feeling genuinely honored to have been part of this global wine community, even briefly. Thirty-four countries, countless perspectives, and one shared language: the bottle, opened and offered freely.
To stand among winemakers, educators, communicators, influencers, sommeliers, and wine lovers from around the world is both humbling and quietly exhilarating. And bringing a group that diverse together in one city — moving us from train stations to vineyards, kitchens, tasting rooms, gala halls, and shared tables without ever losing the thread — was no small feat. Every bus, itinerary, introduction, tasting, meal, and moment of connection had clearly been considered with care, so that the professionals and personalities of the wine world could gather not simply to celebrate achievements, but to celebrate one another.
That, in the end, is what I’ll remember most: the region’s hospitality, the diversity in the glass, and the generosity of the people who made the whole week possible.
Valladolid became our meeting place. Castilla y León became our host. And wine, as it always does, gave us a reason to keep pulling up another chair.
Further reading from this week:
What the Nomination Actually Meant
Secret Gates: An Afternoon at Dehesa de los Canónigos
Cigales in Color: A Day at Bodegas Sinforiano