Experienced travelers (and anyone who’s suffered from romance) know that it’s best, if possible, to have low expectations on all fronts. If you expect misery you’ll always be delighted when it’s not there. Or so I told myself as my friend Natalya and I drove, pelted by rain, down the mountain pass that descends through the lush, hilly slopes of California’s Santa Ynez Valley. On the roadside, makeshift signs warned us of mudslides. Good: misery. Our visit to wine country could only get better. Or would it?

Any movie or television show that draws attention to a place usually ruins it for the rest of us – one can only empathize with the poor schmo who dined at Tom’s Restaurant each day to quietly read his paper before “Seinfeld” came and turned it into a stop on the Gray Line. Our question, as we braved the elements, was whether Alexander Payne’s recent and much-lauded “Sideways” had overexposed this once folksy community. For all I knew our impromptu wine tour would be sullied by husbands and wives in matching jumpsuits trolling the streets of Solvang asking where they could find some Pinot Noir and some nachos to go with it. And yet, I had to ask myself: Without Mr. Payne’s movie, would I even be driving my car through a storm on behalf of a burgeoning wine fetish?

In “Sideways,” Miles (Paul Giamatti) and Jack (Thomas Haden Church), two middle-aged men coping with personal failure and grappling with issues of self worth, take a road trip through Santa Barbara County the week before Jack’s wedding. The movie is loved by many – but mostly by nebbishes like myself, who relate to Miles and his teeming sense of hopelessness.

Also easy to relate to is Santa Barbara County’s overdue status in the wine world. This viticultural region, with its inland fog and ocean breezes, is especially fit for the nearly bipolar Pinot Noir grape, which, when done right, can lead to a path of oenophilic ecstasy. But though people have been making wine commercially in the region since 1962, only within the last five to 10 years has the wine been of a high enough quality to receive an international reputation worthy of a Napa or Sonoma. Now, thanks to the movie, its popularity is rising. Nebbishes, of course, find hope in this turn of events: the slim chance that someday the world will recognize our unsung genius is what gets us up each morning.

Naturally, Natalya and I pulled into the Windmill Inn, in Buellton (114 East Highway 246, Buellton, 805-686-1338, www.daysinn-solvang.com ;$76.49 for a double room) – where Jack and Miles stayed in “Sideways.” It’s actually a Days Inn, but who cares: It has the same windmill, and the rooms are sensible and clean. Sick of driving, I hiked through the rain to the closest market in search of some aged Manchego cheese and a neat, jammy bottle of Syrah. Instead, I discovered a store with a sign reading “Live Bait.” The wine? Woodbridge, Kenwood, and yes, Gallo. The cheese? Kraft singles. In fact, Buellton’s only Bohemian touch was a cafe in a mall called “Thanks a Latte.” Was I suddenly in the Midwest? This is a region, I quickly learned, without the self-conscious boutique sensibility of Napa Valley. This is a real place where generations of people live and die. This place is about the wine.

Of course, we needed to find a place that actually sold the good wine; desperate, we stumbled on the Olive House (1661 Mission Drive, Solvang, 805-686-1559, www.olivehouse.com),a gourmet food shop in nearby Solvang. When I asked the Olive House’s proprietor how often people ask him how the movie has affected the area, he rolled his eyes, “Every minute in every hour of my waking life.” “Sorry,” I said. ” It’s cool. It’ll blow ever,” he replied, offering me a velvety Casa Cassara Pinot that I quickly slurped down. Next, he recommended the luxurious Qupe Syrah. “You mean the wine Miles drank in his hotel room when Maya dumped him?” I asked. Indeed, it was. And it’s one hell of a wine. “Drink it the next time you’re dumped,” he added. We both laughed, knowing all comedy comes from tragedy.

We learned something else at the Olive House: It’s best to experience a tasting on a full stomach (and so you don’t swerve off the road into something hideous like nearby Ostrich Land, where Jack nearly escapes a pecking death, as he runs from an adulterous tryst in his birthday suit). So before moving on to more tastes, we stopped for a meal at the Hitching Post II (406 E. Highway 246, Buellton, 805-688-0676; www.hitchingpostwines.com),where the steaks ($23 for a 10-ounce sirloin) are juicy, aged, and rosy-pink, and where Miles gets drunk honorably and alone. I sipped a glass of the restaurant’s own sexy Highliner Pinot ($13): one big burst of black cherry with a layer of dark coffee – downright viscous. Meanwhile, the line chef leered at Natalya. Too tipsy to do research myself, I took advantage of the situation and sent her over to ask about the movie’s impact on the area. He told her the Hitching Post has had a 30% increase in sales. The waitress came by with a hand on her hip and added, “Yeah, I can always tell the people from L.A. They don’t dine. They eat and run just so they can say they’ve been here.”

Next, it was on to the Buttonwood Farm Winery & Vineyard (1500 Alamo Pintado Road, Solvang, 805-688-3032, www.buttonwoodwinery.com; $5 tasting fee), which our guy at the Olive House had recommended. It wasn’t in the movie, but, I reasoned, a traveler must blaze his own trail at some point. Inside, two 20-something guys were watching a live Web cam on their computer of an orangutan in a zoo. The faint whiff of cannabis lingered in the air. Still, the place has a casual elegance with its woodsy interior and intimate cloistered garden. And they have a nice Sauvignon Blanc. Our pourer was local, smart, and knew his wine. I asked him about the famed ’61 Cheval Blanc that Miles is saving in the movie. “The irony is that Miles says he won’t drink any @#$% Merlot, but the Cheval Blanc is made mostly with Merlot,” he said. A local inebriate at the end of the bar chimed in, “Tell it like it is!” For a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head.

The beautiful Santa Rosa road winds through green hills dotted with lonely oaks and barns with shiny corrugated roofs. Pulling up to the bucolic Sanford Winery (7520 Santa Rosa Road, Buellton, 800-426-WINE, www.sanfordwinery.com; $5 tasting fee) felt like trespassing. The main route to the tasting room was flooded, so we parked the car on the side of the road and walked. We approached a small tasting room with an iron roof and a narrow wooden porch. Inside, stacks of books lined the walls along with a poster for “Sideways” curling in a forgotten corner. It’s here where Miles tastes asparagus in the Chardonnay and Jack doesn’t. An ex-New Yorker manned the same little semicircle bar that appears in the movie. We talked Gotham, Pinot, and the bum rap on poor Chardonnay. She encouraged me to follow the lead of Jack and Miles and escape the heroin nightmare of the metropolis. Her colleague was born and raised in Buellton and hadn’t seen the movie. “Why should I?” she said. “I’m living it.”