Tokaj is the place where the world's first classified wine region was drawn on a map, in 1737, long before Burgundy or Bordeaux got round to the idea. The wine country of Tokaj-Hegyalja lies in the far north-east of Hungary, where the Zemplén hills, old volcanoes worn down into rounded cones, fall away to the plain at the meeting of the Tisza and Bodrog rivers. Tarcal and Tokaj sit at the foot of the slope, and the vines climb the south-facing hills above them, in a patchwork of terraces, stone walls and small plots.
What makes the wine is a combination of volcanic soil, long warm autumns, river mists and a fungus. In good years the grapes, mostly Furmint and Hárslevelű, are attacked by noble rot, which shrivels them and concentrates their sugar. Pickers collect the withered berries one by one to make aszú, the sweet wine that Louis XIV called the wine of kings and the king of wines. Cellars are cut deep into the soft volcanic rock, and their walls are covered in a black, velvety mould that thrives on the alcohol fumes. Tasting in one, with a cold stone floor under your boots, is part of the point.
The riding is a slow pleasure rather than a thrill. Roads climb gently from the plain among the vineyards, with tight little turns through villages of low whitewashed houses and cellar doors, and the hillsides give wide views over the river flats toward Slovakia. Traffic is light outside the harvest and festival season, but tractors come out in September and October, and summer afternoons are hot. Surfaces are mixed, with patched asphalt in the villages, so watch for rough edges.
Tokaj has about five thousand people and both fuel and cafes; Tarcal is smaller but has several wine cellars. Remember that tasting and riding do not go together in Hungary, where the legal alcohol limit for drivers is zero. Buy a bottle for the evening instead, and ride up in the late afternoon when the light turns the vines gold.