I’ve been visiting Walla Walla, Washington a few times a year for the last fourteen years and this is what I think: Walla Walla is like the scrawny, tomboy girl who grew up to have shiney hair and big tits and she’s not quite sure what to do with all the attention but she’s workin’ it the best she can.
When my dad remarried and moved back to Walla Walla (where he’d lived for three years as a teenager, the longest they’d ever stayed in one place), I travelled there out of obligation. It was a charming little town with a quaint “downtown” and gorgeous, amber hills covered in wheat.
But I was a college girl from the big city and I was sure there wasn’t anything there for me.
And then I got married and had two babies. And Walla Walla started growing grapes, and then bottling wine, and now has more than 100 wineries. (And actually, this all started back in the 70s, but wine didn’t really have a big impact on the town’s culture until the last 10 years.)
And considering that this town comes built-in with grandparents who will sit with my babies while my husband and I go out and imbibe, I love this little cow-town.
Our favorite winery this trip was Isenhower Cellars. The people were casual, friendly, but absolutely knowledgeable about their wines. They buy all of their grapes from the local region. And they had cute dogs.