Growing up in Southern California, namely Los Angeles and Orange Counties — ages 6 to 14, and again 18 to 22 — the most idyllic coast for me was the cliffy beauty of Laguna Beach. Moving up to blissful NorCal at 23, that rugged Scotland-meets-Mediterranean I love most is more remote and dramatic than most of SoCal. But I love beaches all along my blessed, glorious state of California.
Santa Barbara (SB) was a common day trip in my SoCal years, sadly more occasional now given my intensive travel schedule globally. Barely 90 miles from Downtown LA, SB could be an easy 90 minutes drive or it could take well over two hours, depending on traffic.
During my young adult days, I’d hit up wineries for the day, overnight for a personal spiritual retreat or visit friends attending college at Westmont or UC Santa Barbara. After moving to San Francisco, I’d stay with friends who live in the area or my Dad when he was in SB for company meetings. The chain stores, luxury brands and “ladies who lunch” vibe of SB can be decidedly chichi, even annoying.
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