All Aboard the Napa Valley Wine Train

The Napa Valley Wine Train passes through Napa twice a day, blowing its horn at every junction, its carriages slowly trundling back to the station near the Oxbow market. Tourists peer out of the shaded windows, wine glass poised in front of them. The wine train is something tourists only do, and, finally, after three months in Napa, I get to experience it, with my mum and new wife.

The waiting room, full of sofas to lounge on, is packed with middle-aged groups chattering excitedly on glasses of wine bought from the bar. The gift shop sells clothes emblazoned with Napa that only the middle-aged would consider buying. On the wall, Burgundy producer, Jean-Claude Boisset, and owner of Buena Vista winery in Sonoma and Raymond Vineyards here in Napa, acts through a mock James Bond video where, lying back on a rug, he strokes a fake leopard (Raymond, an old but these days adequate winery, has a bizarre, flamboyantly kitsch cat theme on site).

Travellers are invited on board in groups. The reason for the staggering becomes clear when our turn arrives: before we get on the train, a photo of us is taken to buy when we get back.

We sit at the table and our server breathlessly runs through the details for the evening ahead, none of which I quite catch. The tattoo on her neck quivers as she speaks. She departs as soon as she has finished speaking, returning just a few seconds later with our first plate of food, the ingredients of which - an uneven combination of cheese, bread, lettuce, and salmon - she speedily lists.

We are offered a free glass of Merlot or Chardonnay, both from Raymond. It is not long before I am tempted to order (and pay) for a bottle of Chardonnay from Grgich. I am warned that it may take a few minutes for the bottle to arrive as it's from the Reserve list (it's not Raymond); it comes within two minutes.

The first plate is whisked away within moments of finishing to be replaced immediately by a salad. As we eat, we are told to order our main course. Our server fans herself with her notepad as she waits for us to decide.

We eat the second plate as slowly as we can to delay the arrival of the main course; our server hovers and snatches our plates when we lay down the cutlery, quickly replaced by the main dish.

The Grgich is superb. A group of couples chat across tables as they knock back the house red. The couple opposite us each drink a bottle of Bud Light. The train moves slowly alongside Highway 29 past some of the Valley's iconic wineries, which disappear into the darkness of the early evening.

On finishing the main dish, we are told to move on to another carriage for our desserts. Expecting a leisurely three-hour meal, we are done, except for dessert, within an hour.

We realise the reason for the speed of the meal on the way to our new carriage; there is a second sitting from St. Helena to Napa, and we squeeze past travellers moving up the train to the dining car. We may have been told that at the beginning, but our server spoke too quickly for us to understand what she was saying.

The train has come to a stop and a woman asks our new server if we are halfway through the journey. "We're at St. Helena and we don't go any further." "So we're halfway?" "We have to wait for the engine to change and take us back but, yes, we're halfway. But the view's the same on the way back, so you won't see anything different. And it's dark anyway."

In the darkness, we do have a view of the other side of the highway as we eat our desserts. Rather than around a table, we sit in a row of unmoveable chairs facing the window.

red wine flight

I order a "Red Wine" tasting flight, Katie a "Napa" flight of two whites and two reds. Our server pours me my four wines almost to the rim, patiently describing the tastes I am likely to find in them. On the second glass, she remembers to tell me that, "Under your glass you'll find a description, you won't get all of them when you taste the wine because everyone's different but you might get one of them." I raise the glass of Merlot to read the description written on the card underneath: 'Soft and supple, Black cherry, Smooth oak.' It's an accurate description. "Just in case you haven't noticed, I'm pouring the wines from light to dark. That's how they're arranged."

The server moves on to Katie and pours the second white, a Chardonnay. It looks like a rosé that's had some sherry poured into it. I stare at the wine wondering when someone is going to say something. Katie and my mum talk, not noticing. The server readies herself to pour the next wine and stops herself as she spots the cloudy Chardonnay. "That doesn't look good. I'm not going to even taste that. I'll get a new bottle and open it in front of you."

"She's not supposed to pour that much," a voice whispers in my ear as she looks for a new bottle. The voice belongs to a bearded waiter in his early thirties who does not seem too enamoured with his current occupation. He walks back to his post, where he repeats the advice to the returning server.

As we taste through our flights, our bearded friend returns. "Which is your favourite?" he asks. "Is it the Jericho Canyon Cabernet Sauvignon?" he adds eagerly. Not having had the chance to taste all the wines, we allow him to wander back off. He is right, we find.

We have been promised a present, because it's our 'honeymoon' - we were married six days previously, although Katie has had to work on five of those days. Our bearded friend comes with the present, and carefully describes how proud the Wine Train is to have had us on board for our honeymoon. He holds the present behind his back, and reveals it dramatically: a set of four cork coasters embossed with pictures of the Napa Wine Train.

honeymoon present

Everyone staggers off the train in a state of giddy intoxication. My mum insists on buying the photo of us taken at the beginning of the evening and politely waits at the back of a scrum of competing travellers until it's her turn to hand over money for the glossy photo.

There's no doubt the Wine Train makes plenty of money - Boisset wouldn't be involved otherwise. It's over $100 a ticket, and there are more expensive tickets for a viewing lounge and first class. Customers get a complimentary glass of wine, but have to pay for anything extra even if it's a bottle of Bud Light. Add the photos at the end of the journey, and it can easily come to $200 a person.

Despite the rushed service and the clear commercial aspect, the food on the train is very good, the wines come from a nice if limited range of famous Napa wineries, and the journey up and down Highway 29 is fun, offering a different view of the Napa Valley. It's a highly touristic experience, something Napa, despite being the gateway to the winemaking area, has only just realised it should be providing. Like Napa, the train still has a lot to learn about providing a polished experience - but the foundations are there.