Destination

In Mendoza only 4% of the territory is irrigated, and 95% of the people live there

The province covers 148,827 square kilometres and gets between 150 and 350 millimetres of rain a year. Everything green you can see — the vineyards, the orchards, the hundred thousand trees on the capital's streets — is there because someone has spent centuries distributing meltwater through a network of irrigation channels.

· 11 min read
A straight concrete road disappearing towards the horizon between low, dry scrub, with a single large tree on the left and a chain of bluish mountains behind.
A straight concrete road disappearing towards the horizon between low, dry scrub, with a single large tree on the left and a chain of bluish mountains behind.Nelson Pérez·CC BY-SA 3.0

The name Mendoza brings up rows of vines, poplars and running water. It is an accurate image and it is an image of a tiny strip of the territory. What lies around it, and that is almost everything, is dry scrub.

The figure that orders the whole province is this: the irrigated areas make up around 4% of the surface and hold more than 95% of the people. Everything else — 96% of the map — is practically empty.

01 A desert with a wine region's name

It is worth starting with the figure that is hard to believe. The city of Mendoza gets 223.2 millimetres of rain a year and its climate is classified as cold desert. Not a dry zone or a semi-arid one: a desert, by the technical definition.

Across the provincial lowlands the range runs from 150 to 350 millimetres a year. Only on the high Andean slopes does it pass 600, and there precipitation falls almost exclusively in winter and almost always as snow.

That last sentence is the key to everything else. Mendoza's water does not fall where it is used. It falls up high, on the mountain, in solid form, and reaches the plain months later, when the snow melts and comes down the rivers.

02 The 4% and the 95%

A territory like this is not settled evenly: it is settled in patches, around the rivers. Those patches are called oases, and they take up around 4% of the province's 148,827 square kilometres.

A vineyard plot in winter, pruned leafless vines lined up over bare, dusty ground, with a row of tall poplars closing the background.
A vineyard at winter rest on bare ground. Without the channel that waters it, this plot would be scrub.Thialfi / Wikimedia Commons / Public domain  · Public domain

That fraction holds more than 95% of the province's two million-plus inhabitants. Put another way: almost the whole population of Mendoza lives inside a piece of hydraulic engineering, and outside it hardly anyone lives at all.

The scale of the system explains why. The province has more than 350,000 hectares with access to irrigation water, which is around 25% of all the irrigated land in Argentina. A quarter of the country's irrigation sits in a desert.

03 The channel is the key piece

The piece that makes all this work is not a spectacular dam or a modern pipeline: it is the acequia. Small channels, many of them in plain sight, running beside the streets and distributing water metre by metre.

A narrow stone channel running parallel to a pavement, protected by a metal railing, its cobbled bed exposed and vegetation growing on the adjoining wall.
An urban channel with its bed uncovered. The network runs beside the streets and is visible, not buried.Veronica Johansen / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 3.0  · CC BY-SA 3.0

The system is not modern. Its origin goes back to pre-Hispanic times, when the Huarpe people began systematising irrigation and water use in these valleys. What structures the provincial territory today is, to a large degree, an expansion of that scheme.

For a visitor this has an immediate and rather disconcerting effect: in Mendoza the water is visible. It is not hidden under the asphalt, it runs in the open along a channel beside the kerb, and you have to learn to watch where you step when getting out of a car.

04 A hundred thousand trees that need watering

The system's most visible result is the trees. On the capital's streets there are around a hundred thousand of them, and every one depends on the water reaching it through the channels. None would grow on its own in a place with 223 millimetres a year.

A narrow concrete channel running between pavement and roadway, water in its bed and the kerb of a residential street alongside.
A channel on a street in Godoy Cruz. Each stretch carries water to the trees of that block.Thialfi / Wikimedia Commons / Public domain  · Public domain

Across the metropolitan area the figure rises above 615,000 specimens, spread over some 179 species. It is a complete urban forest, with its census and its inventory, planted on a desert and kept alive by hand.

And it does a job that goes beyond looks. In a city where the average January high is around 33 degrees, the continuous shade of the tree-lined streets is a system of urban cooling, not decoration.

05 Three oases, not one

The irrigated 4% is not a single patch. There are three, each with its own river, altitude and character: the northern oasis, around the Mendoza river; the Uco Valley, on the Tunuyán; and the southern oasis, in the basin of the Diamante and the Atuel.

The rivers are what separates them, and they all come from the same place: mountain snow. That is why a winter with little snow is paid for on the plain a year later, and why water here is administered not by season but by allocated flow.

On that base the industry that made the province famous was built: some 1,200 wineries producing around 70% of the roughly 1.5 billion litres of wine made in the country each year. That is an enormous figure for a place that, on paper, has no water.

06 And the remaining 96%

That leaves the part of the map hardly anyone crosses, and it is almost all of the map. To the west, the cordillera, with Aconcagua and its 6,960.8 metres, the highest summit in the Americas. To the east and south, a crossing of low scrub and stony ground.

A very high rocky massif with snow on its upper slopes, seen from a mountain road, with slopes of loose stone in the foreground and a clear sky.
Aconcagua from national route 7. This mountain is the physical origin of the water that irrigates the oases below.Mauricio V. Genta / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0  · CC BY-SA 4.0

That 96% is not a failure or a void: it is the natural state of the place. What is exceptional, what needs explaining, is not the desert. It is the green strip that interrupts it.

And from that comes the most useful way of looking at Mendoza. Instead of seeing vineyards and mountains as two separate attractions, it helps to see them as the two halves of one mechanism: the snow that piles up above in winter and the network of channels that spreads it below in summer. Without the first there is no second, and without both there is no province.

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Last updated · reviewed by the FlowTravel desk
MR

María Reyes

Destinations editor · Flowtravel

María Reyes looks for the physical logic of each place: why it is where it is and why it has the shape it has.

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