Tide and seek

The Santa Cruz beach, California
The Santa Cruz beach, California
Updated on
2 min read

A swirl of sunshine, salt air, and Spanish soul—that’s Santa Cruz for you. A place where Europe seems to have accidentally wandered into California and decided to stay. It’s a postcard town, tucked quietly between the Pacific and the Santa Cruz Mountains, a place that hums with life yet feels blissfully detached from the frenzy of the big cities. Drive just 40 minutes along California’s fabled Highway 1 and you’ll find yourself surrendering to the rhythm of the waves before you even arrive. The approach is cinematic. On one side, rugged cliffs tumble into the ocean; on the other, misty mountains stand guard. You can almost taste the salt in the air as the road open into the sparkling expanse of Monterey Bay.

The city’s downtown wharf is small but soulful, a perfect blend of charm and chatter. You’ll find cozy seafood joints serving clam chowder in steaming bowls, tiny gift stores spilling over with surfer tees and seashell souvenirs, and a constant soundtrack of gulls, laughter, and the gentle slosh of the tide. The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, that iconic stretch of wooden planks hugging the shore, is where the town’s heartbeat is loudest. Stroll along the West Cliff Drive and you’ll see surfers slicing through the waves, children building sandcastles, couples strolling hand in hand—all bathed in the golden light of the California sun.

If you linger long enough, the Spanish spirit of the place begins to seep through. Founded in the 17th century, Santa Cruz takes its name from Holy Cross. The Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse, is the city’s most evocative symbol of that past. Though you can’t climb inside, the walk up to it is pure sensory indulgence—the ocean wind teasing your hair, the scent of salt and wildflowers mingling, the rhythmic crash of waves a steady reminder of nature’s power. For a splash of nostalgia, make your way to the Santa Cruz County Fairgrounds. It’s a carnival of colour—ferris wheels spinning under fairy lights, the smell of popcorn and candy in the air, souvenir stalls crammed with trinkets, and a cable car that glides you gently over the festivities, offering a panoramic view of the city shimmering under the twilight sky.

Drive through the quieter streets, and you’ll stumble upon rows of sea-facing Victorian homes—pastel beauties with wraparound porches and blooming gardens.

Santa Cruz is small, but it holds multitudes—of history, of warmth, of wonder. It’s a town that feels both lived-in and dreamlike, where every breeze smells faintly of salt and nostalgia.

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