We road from winery to winery, discovering that ‘wine tasting’ meant a one-ounce pour of wine, absolutely unacceptable to any self respecting wine-o.

“Can we just get a glass of chilled buttery Chardonnay?” I politely inquired of the name tag wearing Master Wine Stewart.

“This is not a bar lady.”

“Ok then, another one-ounce pour of Chardonnay, for each of us, because that’s all we want to drink” The pint-sized man begrudgingly poured us both another speckle of wine before retreating in disgust to the other end of the bar.

Back on the bike, we stumbled upon a place to have a proper drink; perched on a hill overlooking all of Napa, Auberge du Soliel. The only thing higher than the hill top resort, were the noses of its ascot toting patrons. We parked the bikes in between a beautiful Bentley and a shiny Rolls Royce, before venturing into the pretentious watering hole. While enjoying the phenomenal views with a beer and a snack, we were sent over a shot of whiskey and a chocolate cake from a posse of polo shirts with purple teeth.. the rich needs Wine Wipes just like the rest of us