Story of Bağ Evi

Bozcaada and its people may not have changed much since the island’s earliest settlements, yet the island itself has hosted many civilizations and gone through numerous name changes over time. Its most well-known name, Tenedos, comes from Tenes — the ruler of the island during the Trojan War, mentioned in Homer’s epics. Since the day Tenes set foot on the island, Bozcaada’s most important and oldest economic source has been viticulture and winemaking. Although olive cultivation and the production of syrups and jams from island poppies have gained popularity over time, what truly makes the island the island are its vineyards.Just as important as the vineyards themselves are the vineyard houses. Living in a vineyard house is a unique way of life — it teaches patience and how to be alone. But why are vineyard houses so different from the homes in the town center?

Vineyard houses are the products of necessity — born out of the island’s viticulture culture. In the past, these houses weren’t built for fully settled, year-round living. The island’s vineyard workers, whose main homes were in the town center, would travel to the outskirts by horse-drawn carriages or donkeys. To rest between work sessions and stay in the vineyards during the labor period, they began building two-story (tower) and single-story (flat-roofed) vineyard houses.

Since everything was done by hand with simple tools, vineyard work took much longer, often lasting from sunrise to sunset. Because of this, workers sometimes lived there for weeks. In short, viticulture — a demanding craft requiring great care — was taken very seriously in the past. The lives of the islanders revolved entirely around the vineyards. Grapes and vines were so valuable that, as a local story goes, if a worker forgot his jacket in the vineyard after plowing, he had to “entrust” it to the vines until harvest season. After vineyard maintenance, no one would step foot there again, for fear of damaging the plants.

Spending so much time away from town, surrounded by nature, gave vineyard houses a mysterious, peaceful, and even therapeutic quality — a refuge where one could truly be alone. Compared to the houses in the bustling, tourist-filled town center, life in a vineyard house was much more isolated. Today, we might call it an early example of a “slow life” — one that hasn’t changed much since ancient times. Perhaps the only difference is that people now buy these homes to stay longer.

In a vineyard house, most things are beyond your control — just like viticulture itself. You do your best, and Mother Nature decides the rest. Being exposed to the wind and rain, far from town, surrounded by complete darkness at night, heating with a wood stove, having no nearby store or market, and occasionally being visited by owls or foxes among endless hills — these are all part of what makes a vineyard house a vineyard house.

It’s a lifestyle that requires patience, in contrast to the instant gratification of the 21st century. Tea brewed slowly on the stove, linens drying under the sun, birdsong all around... When you stay in a vineyard house, you can sense autumn’s arrival through the leaves and the coming of summer from the gentle southern breeze.

So when did people start building vineyard houses? It’s certain that since ancient times, there has been settlement outside the town center — particularly in the areas parallel to Geyikli. However, the vineyard houses we associate with systematic viticulture date back about a century — to what we can call the golden age of Bozcaada’s viticulture.

Home to grape varieties such as Kuntra, Karalahna, Vasilaki, and Çavuş, the island was inhabited for 500 years by harmonious Greek and Turkish communities. Turks tended the vineyards, while Greeks purchased wine grapes and handled production. Bozcaada’s table grapes were once a favorite among Istanbul’s residents, particularly among the city’s minorities.

Over time, as the minority population declined, the delicate and short-lived Çavuş grape began to be replaced by varieties with longer shelf lives. Until then, viticulture on the island was a respected and profitable profession. Winemaking on Bozcaada remained under Greek control until 1925, when Çamlıbağ Winery was founded. Most of the old vineyard houses — and many of today’s restored wineries that still operate under new names — were originally built by the island’s Greek residents during that period.

The island’s first Muslim winemaker and founder of Çamlıbağ, Haşim Yunatçı, began production in a winery he purchased from Panayi Dino — and faced various prejudices when he did. At the time, it was rare for a Muslim Turk to produce wine. Rumors spread that his son Hazım’s engagement to a girl from one of the island’s noble families would be broken because of it — but it wasn’t. In fact, Yunatçı’s initiative inspired his in-laws to start their own winery as well.

The vineyards that have been carefully cultivated and preserved since those days mostly lie in the island’s central region and gentle hills. While single-story houses (dam) were built there in the early years of the Republic, most of today’s vineyard houses are newly constructed rather than restorations of old ones. For the health of the vineyards and the quality of the grapes, it’s important that vineyard houses remain no larger than 80 square meters, which allows the wind to circulate freely across the island — a crucial factor in vine health.

Thus, nearly all vineyard houses on Bozcaada are built following this format. Unlike the old dam houses, modern vineyard homes often include verandas and contemporary touches, though many still have stone wells in their gardens — remnants of another era.

Even though today’s vineyard care and winemaking use innovative methods, Bozcaada’s vineyard houses endure as reminders of the past. They welcome those who come to the island in search of peace.

Still today, when you sit on the veranda of one of those houses at sunset, you can easily feel like an islander resting after a long harvest. Watching the seasons change through the vines, picking grapes for breakfast on summer mornings, lighting the stove in winter — these are just brief glimpses into the unchanging story of the vineyard house.

Would you like to come and live out your own story in one?

Bağ Evi