Temecula

Neither Lia nor I expected much from Temecula. Southern California wine country sounded like a contradiction, something for weekend bachelorette parties rather than serious tasting, and the drive in off Interstate 15, past outlet malls and casino billboards, did nothing to change our minds. Then the road climbed into De Portola Road and Rancho California Road, and the valley opened up: forty-odd wineries scattered across golden hills, the morning fog still clinging to the low ground, and absolutely no hint of the highway we’d just left behind.

Wine Country by balloon

The valley’s diurnal temperature swing, hot afternoons cooling fast under a marine layer that slides in from the coast through the Rainbow Gap, turns out to be ideal for Rhône varietals, and Temecula’s wineries lean hard into syrah, viognier, and grenache rather than trying to be Napa. We booked a hot-air balloon flight at dawn, lifting off from a vineyard while the valley was still shadowed blue, and watched the sun catch the vine rows one by one as we drifted. Lia, who is not fond of heights, gripped the basket rim the entire time and admitted afterward it was worth it. We landed in an empty field and were handed champagne before we’d even finished folding the balloon.

Tasting rooms and long lunches

We spent the rest of the day working our way along Rancho California Road, stopping at three wineries and regretting none of it. South Coast Winery’s tasting room sits amid manicured vines with views back toward the valley floor, while smaller, family-run spots like Wiens and Robert Renzoni felt more like sitting in someone’s backyard, if their backyard produced excellent tempranillo. Lunch happened at a winery restaurant terrace, a plate of flatbread and local olive oil disappearing slowly over two hours, the kind of unhurried meal that only really works when nobody’s driving anywhere else that day.

Old Town Temecula

By early evening we’d traded vine rows for wooden boardwalks in Old Town Temecula, a stretch of Front Street lined with false-front Western buildings that have been standing, in one form or another, since the 1890s. It’s touristy in places, but the antique shops and saloons have real bones, and the Temecula Valley Museum tells the story of the Pechanga Band of Luiseño Indians and the cattle-ranching era that shaped the valley before the vines arrived. We finished the night with barbecue and a local ale on a patio still warm from the day’s heat, the hills outside town gone dark and quiet.

Getting There

Temecula sits roughly sixty miles north of San Diego and ninety miles southeast of Los Angeles, both reachable in under two hours via Interstate 15 depending on traffic. There’s no train service directly into town, so a car is essential, both for the drive in and for getting between the spread-out wineries once you’ve arrived — designate a driver or book a tasting shuttle, since tasting rooms here pour generously. San Diego International Airport and Ontario International Airport are the closest major airports, each about an hour’s drive away.