Filtered to Los Angeles. Switch origins below.
3 picks from Los Angeles.
Sand, oysters, the kind of porch where the day just goes.
Tulum still works if you know when to be where. Early mornings at the ruins before the tour buses, lunch in town not the beach zone, a cenote swim at 3pm when everyone else is napping off mezcal. The jungle boutique hotels are real — pick one that was there before the influencer wave.
Four hours up the coast to Ventana Big Sur, where the redwoods meet the cliffs and the fog rolls in around 4pm. Two nights of silence, fire pits at sunset, a Japanese bathhouse built into the hillside. Big Sur stops being a drive-through when you give it a weekend.
90 minutes up the coast to a town that figured out how to be both a beach town and a wine town without losing either. Red tile roofs, white stucco, a harbor that still works. The American Riviera label is lazy — Santa Barbara is better than that.
Trees, trails, fires, fewer people. The cabin kind of weekend.
Tulum still works if you know when to be where. Early mornings at the ruins before the tour buses, lunch in town not the beach zone, a cenote swim at 3pm when everyone else is napping off mezcal. The jungle boutique hotels are real — pick one that was there before the influencer wave.
Four hours up the coast to Ventana Big Sur, where the redwoods meet the cliffs and the fog rolls in around 4pm. Two nights of silence, fire pits at sunset, a Japanese bathhouse built into the hillside. Big Sur stops being a drive-through when you give it a weekend.
Drafted by our agent, kept on the list when they hold up. Labeled honestly.
Tulum still works if you know when to be where. Early mornings at the ruins before the tour buses, lunch in town not the beach zone, a cenote swim at 3pm when everyone else is napping off mezcal. The jungle boutique hotels are real — pick one that was there before the influencer wave.
Four hours up the coast to Ventana Big Sur, where the redwoods meet the cliffs and the fog rolls in around 4pm. Two nights of silence, fire pits at sunset, a Japanese bathhouse built into the hillside. Big Sur stops being a drive-through when you give it a weekend.
90 minutes up the coast to a town that figured out how to be both a beach town and a wine town without losing either. Red tile roofs, white stucco, a harbor that still works. The American Riviera label is lazy — Santa Barbara is better than that.
