My last piece began with a one-word sentence: ‘Gloom.’ A dear friend reproached me. ‘In a world already abundant with gloom, surely you can find a way of cheering us up. After all, you’re not writing about politics – or at least you’re not supposed to be.’ I promised to try harder to propagate good news.

When it comes to wine, that is not impossible. Twenty years ago, in Lisbon, I was treated to a bottle of Barca Velha. I was told that the Portuguese regarded it as their Château Latour. Needless to say, it was not that good but I remember thinking that it was a jolly decent drop of stuff, and – in those days – excellent value. Only half of that judgment still holds true. I tried a 2012 the other day and it was excellent: as good as a Bordeaux second growth. But the price has shot up. If you come by a bottle, drink it with every expectation of pleasure, except for the bill.

Twenty years ago, in Lisbon, I was treated to a bottle of Barca Velha

There are other Portuguese bottles well worth considering. In the old days, most of the wine produced along the Douro was used to make port. But as the Douro is the lower reaches of the Duero, which produces a great deal of outstanding wine – most notably Vega Sicilia – Portuguese vignerons followed Barca Velha’s example and promoted their bottles. Though not in the Barca Velha league, all the ones I have tasted have been good, and they are decent value, for the moment. It is also possible to find drinkable vinho verde. Admittedly, that is best drunk at one of those basic restaurants on the beach at Cascais, eating sardines straight from the sea – but it can just about work on a chilly March day in London, with a fish pie or even a curry.

Assuming that the world does not destroy itself, the demand for wine is bound to grow, so the more the supply increases, the better. Moreover, wine-growing can survive adverse political conditions. Back in the 1980s, I spent time in South Africa and enjoyed contradicting liberal commentators who refused to see the complexity of the situation. All my Afrikaner friends believed that the black population should have a full entitlement to human dignity immediately, plus a programme of educational uplift and rights in local government. State power, however: that thought led to knitted brows. Obviously, radical change must come but no one wanted to turn the country into a second Belgian Congo.

Well, radical change came and not all the consequences have been desirable. But one area has seen definite improvement. Thanks to its Huguenot immigrants, South Africa had always produced first-rate wine; and thanks to the political changes and increased opportunities for exporters, there has been a lot of investment in the wine industry: just about the only part of the South African economy that has improved. Again, it is hard to find a poor bottle. Anything from Meerlust, Kanonkop or Anthonij Rupert should be a reliable source of vinous pleasure, and excellent value. Let us hope that this continues. But there are those, too near to government for comfort, who believe that Robert Mugabe should be South Africa’s role model. If so, chaos will give way to tragedy – but I promised no more gloom.

A hundred years ago, Argentina was a rich country. Then came Peron-ism: political blood poisoning which has inflicted chronic damage. Yet wine-making has survived. I recently came across Finca Ambrosia, which produces sound Malbec and a respectable Cabernet Sauvignon. Meanwhile, President Milei is trying to cure the blood poison. So there is good news, and spring is approaching. Did I hear someone say ‘Lent’? What has that got to do with wine-drinking?