One camp in the wine universe claims that a wine is shaped by the place it is produced. We call it “terroir.” If the slope is steep, or the climate is cold, the grapes will be different — and so will the wine. This is an easy concept to grasp. A warm region will push fruit ripeness levels up, so the grapes will be sweeter and, in the end, the wine will have a higher alcohol content. A cold spot will result in more acidic grapes, so the wines will be crisper rather than fuller.

Other wine people consider this view as just another expression of the “naturalistic fallacy” that says “if it comes from nature, then it must be good.” They see the human hand and mind as the ultimate shapers. Human genius will find a path toward greatness from wherever it starts. I confess that I sit, for the most part, in this camp.

If you have a glass of wine in front of you, try to see the place or the mind behind the wine. But then, here’s my twist: get a few wines from one place — either all at the same time or a new one each day. This will lead to an exploration of a whole universe, like being in a dark room and trying to identify what’s in there just by touch. It’s something like this, but with your nose and your mouth.

A case in point: the Peloponnese. Go to a wine bar and ask for tiny pours of several wines from the area. Or go on a mission and taste a new wine every day. Magically, you’ll find many layers unfolding. Brace yourself.

You’ll grasp the journey of the Peloponnese through time. A place that boasts so many local wine grape varieties instantly qualifies as a kind of Methuselah. Many indigenous grapes mean that DNA had plenty of time to play around, to unfold, to change and to mutate. Vitis Vinifera, the “vine that brings us the wine,” has been around in the Peloponnese for millennia, and we can now enjoy all its magnificent variations — from the pink-skinned Roditis and Moschofilero grapes to the dark Mavroudi and Agiorgitiko varieties, to the white Asproudes. A genetic big bang in your wine glass, right before your eyes.

You’ll soak up the heritage, which is rather different from time. Heritage is what time allowed to flourish.

As you sip a Nemea wine, you taste the “lions’ blood” as consumed by Hercules himself (although vegan options are now readily available as well). Treat yourself to a sweet Malvasia of Monemvasia and smell all the qualities that made medieval aficionados go crazy over this wine style.

You’ll visualize the topography of the Peloponnese, which is dazzling. Most tourists only linger around the beautiful beaches and assume that’s all there is. But the complexity of the landscape — with steep slopes, high elevations, sheltered plateaus and deep valleys — is readily displayed in your wine glass. One of the most striking examples of this occurs when comparing the whites of Mantinia, from Moschofilero, and the reds of Nemea, from Agiorgitiko. The former are almost Germanic in their coolness and freshness. The latter can be broad, rich and full-throttle enough to seduce a devoted Napa Valley fan. The fact that you can drive from one place to the other in twenty minutes might leave even the most articulate viticulturist grasping for words.

You’ll taste the food of the Peloponnese through its wines. For Greeks, wine was always considered food in liquid form, but wine here is a mirror of what locals enjoy eating. The glorious sweets, based on nuts or fruit, co-evolved with the stunning sweet wines of Muscat and Mavrodaphne in Patras. The Peloponnese is surrounded by sea, and a crisp Roditis or a dense Assyrtiko will match those shellfish or that grilled sea bream. If a specific wine style had no suitable food partner, believe me — it would have become extinct a long time ago.

What’s more, you’ll encounter the people. The moment you taste a top-quality wine, you’ll meet the Peloponnesians, with all the dedication — the infatuation, really — needed to achieve such a feat. The moment you realize the very sensible (by international standards) price tags of these wines, you’ll understand that this is a labor of love, not a plan to turn wine producers into billionaires. Smell these vibrant whites and you’ll know they were made as a way of making life more enjoyable, more upbeat. Drink a second glass of these deep reds and then take a selfie. Yes, your teeth might be showing a few temporary wine stains, but then it will hit you that you’re only noticing that because you’re smiling so broadly…

So, go on then. Taste these wines. And then, why not just go to the Peloponnese after all?