Santa Monica to Santa Barbara: Sunsets, Sea Breezes & the Scenic Route

Jul 14
8 min read

Updated: Jul 26

From Santa Monica to Santa Barbara, where California slows down just enough to make you stay a little longer.

After six days soaking up San Diego’s beaches, bakeries, and sunsets, I pointed the car north. Santa Monica was only a few hours away, but it felt like an entirely different California was waiting.

And it was.

I arrived at the lovely Channel Road Inn, part of the Four Sisters Collection, just in time for complimentary wine hour. What a nice surprise. And of course…perfect timing.

The inn sits just one block from Pacific Coast Highway and was recommended by a California native who had stayed there temporarily after the Palisades fires. The beautifully restored 1910 Colonial feels more like spending the weekend at your favorite aunt’s house than checking into a hotel. A fire crackled in the living room, homemade cookies and a handwritten welcome note were waiting in my room, and suddenly I wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

If you’re looking for somewhere central but tucked away from the bustle of the Santa Monica Pier, this is it. The homemade breakfast frittata and coffee cake each morning almost convinced me to extend my stay.

The beachfront paths stretch for miles alongside Pacific Coast Highway, creating one giant outdoor playground for walkers, runners, and cyclists. It’s one of those places where you can lose track of time, soak up the California sunshine, and, in my case, justify that breakfast frittata.

Dinner my first night was at Orla by Michael Mina, where I met one of my oldest friends—someone I hadn’t seen in nearly five years. We caught up over cocktails overlooking the Santa Monica Pier while the sun slowly disappeared behind the Pacific.

Orla’s menu is divided between Mediterranean and Egyptian preparations—a combination I wasn’t expecting but thoroughly enjoyed. We leaned Egyptian for the appetizers with the Muhammara, then ordered swordfish that arrived perfectly cooked with an Egyptian sauce I’d bottle happily and take home. We balanced things out with a Mediterranean salad because, you know…health.

The prices, however, are not for the faint of heart. Ours nearly stopped when the bill arrived. Fortunately, the sunset over Malibu, beautifully crafted cocktails, and even better company softened the blow. At least a little. I told myself tomorrow would be an excellent day to skip lunch.

If oceanfront prices aren’t your thing, I highly recommend Wally’s, just across from the beautiful Fairmont Hotel. It’s a paradise for wine lovers with an outstanding selection of bottles and one of the best charcuterie menus around.

The sommelier, Justin, displayed the patience of a saint while helping my wine-connoisseur friend find the perfect bottle. After several tastings and a parade of thoughtful recommendations, he finally landed on a spectacular Cabernet-Vin Perdu-from an acclaimed female winemaker, Heidi Barrett. Success.

The space is as bougie as the wine, and one of my favorite touches is that if you fall in love with something you eat or drink, you can simply buy it and take it home.

With the Pacific sparkling beside me, I loaded the car, grabbed one last coffee, and pointed myself north again. Pacific Coast Highway through Malibu would lead to Santa Barbara—a stop I’d been looking forward to since I started planning this trip.

Before fully immersing myself in Malibu, I made one stop that had been on my list from the very beginning: the Getty Villa. Perched above the Pacific and inspired by an ancient Roman seaside estate, it felt like an unexpected detour from California into another era.

I’ll admit something that may surprise a few people.

The collection itself isn’t what stayed with me.

Having visited Italy several times and museums filled with similar sculptures, mosaics, and artifacts, I found myself appreciating the craftsmanship more than discovering anything new. That’s not a criticism of the Getty Villa. Sometimes travel changes you. The more places you see, the more your curiosity shifts from what you’re looking at to why it’s there in the first place.

And that’s where the Getty Villa became fascinating…

I found myself far more interested in the man behind it all than the marble statues surrounding me.

Oil billionaire J. Paul Getty wasn’t simply collecting beautiful objects. He was trying to recreate the world they once lived in.

Inspired by the ancient Roman Villa dei Papiri in Herculaneum, he built this “ranch house,” as he affectionately called it, overlooking the Pacific so visitors could experience antiquities in a setting reminiscent of their original homes rather than behind museum walls.

One quote displayed throughout the villa stopped me in my tracks:

“One could say, ‘Go to Pompeii and Herculaneum and see Roman villas the way they are now—then go to Malibu and see the way they were in ancient times.’” — J. Paul Getty, 1974.

It’s an ambitious statement, but after wandering the gardens, courtyards, reflecting pools, and fresco-lined walkways, I understood exactly what he meant. There’s a bittersweet footnote to the story. Getty died in 1976 before seeing the villa completed as he had envisioned it. The home that was meant to share his life’s passion became his lasting legacy—one he never fully experienced himself.

As I climbed back into the car and continued north along Pacific Coast Highway, I realized the Getty Villa had given me something I wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t another lesson in ancient history. It was a reminder that sometimes the stories behind great collections are even more compelling than the collections themselves.

Back on Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu greeted me with a reminder that beauty and heartbreak can exist side- by-side.

As I entered Malibu, the scars left by the recent fires and mudslides were impossible to ignore.

Oceanfront homes had been reduced to little more than foundations, while others stood as quiet reminders of how quickly everything can change. Some owners are rebuilding. Others have chosen to walk away altogether. It was sobering to drive through such extraordinary beauty while seeing so much loss.

Malibu Pier offered a complete change of mood. By late morning, it was peaceful, with surfers catching waves beyond the pilings and visitors lingering over coffee.

I grabbed a chai latte from Malibu Farm and claimed a bench on the pier to simply watch the ocean do its thing.

Parking isn’t exactly cheap – $15 – but after paying $45 for valet the night before at Orla, it suddenly felt like a bargain.

Then came one of my favorite drives of the entire trip. I had a California driving playlist queued up, the windows down, and nowhere I had to be except wherever Highway 101 decided to take me next. Those are the travel days you remember.

The Pacific stretched endlessly to my left, deep blue and crashing against rugged cliffs, while the dramatic mountains rose almost straight from the shoreline on my right. I’ve driven plenty of beautiful roads, but I’d never experienced two landscapes this different existing side by side. It felt distinctly Californian.

Driving through Ventura and into the Ojai Valley, I realized how little I actually knew about this part of California.

Endless vegetable fields gave way to winding mountain roads before Lake Casitas appeared, almost without warning.

The drinking water reservoir glowed an almost unbelievable turquoise, surrounded by steep hillsides and rugged cliffs. The road hugs the shoreline for miles, making for spectacular scenery.

Just don’t expect to stop for photos. The winding road has virtually no shoulders or pull-offs, so you’ll have to settle for enjoying it through the windshield.

Before reaching Santa Barbara, I made one last stop at the Carpinteria Seal Sanctuary.

I met a local woman on her daily hike who offered to walk me down to the overlook. She knew every nook of the trail and seemed to know the seals almost as well.

It’s moments like these that remind me why I love traveling solo. People are often incredibly generous with their time, recommendations, and stories if you’re simply open to saying hello.

Crossing into Santa Barbara, everything seemed to exhale.

Palm-lined streets replaced dramatic cliffs, Spanish architecture appeared around every corner, and the pace noticeably slowed.

For this stop, I decided to splurge.

I checked into the Hotel Californian, right in the heart of the Funk Zone, where restaurants, tasting rooms, boutiques, and the waterfront are all within easy walking distance. At just under $1,000 a night, it wasn’t an everyday hotel choice – but every once in a while, a trip deserves one.

My first stop after dropping my bags in the room was the rooftop pool, where sweeping views of the Pacific and the Santa Ynez Mountains immediately confirmed I’d made the right decision.

Little touches throughout my stay made the experience feel genuinely special. Evening turndown service included notes left on my bedside table – sometimes a poem, sometimes an intriguing quotation that somehow fit the mood of the day. It’s details like that which elevate a beautiful hotel into one you’ll remember long after you’ve checked out.

Dinner at The Lark immediately lived up to its reputation.

I made a beeline for Morro Bay oysters followed by the tuna crudo, and both were outstanding. Fresh, beautifully prepared, and exactly the kind of meal that reminds you why California’s food scene is so special

Afterwards, I wandered through the Funk Zone, checking out the galleries, wine tasting rooms, and quirky little shops before calling it a night.

Breakfast the next morning was at Goat Tree, where the pastry case immediately creates an impossible decision.

I finally settled on the almond and chocolate croissant, which was every bit as good as it looked – and large enough to become an afternoon snack later.

Before my 1:30 Lotusland tour, I spent the morning wandering Montecito.

Unlike many downtown shopping districts, Montecito isn’t concentrated into one charming main street. The boutiques are scattered throughout the village, so exploring becomes part of the fun.

Lotusland had been at the top of my Santa Barbara list from the moment I began planning this trip.

The windy drive up Sycamore Canyon Road passes sprawling estates tucked behind gates and towering hedges.

Oprah lives here.

Prince Harry and Meghan live here.

And then there’s Lotusland – perhaps the area’s most fascinating property of all.

The 37-acre estate belonged to Madame Ganna Walska, a Polish opera singer whose life could easily become a Netflix series.

Married six times – including to a Russian count and later a spiritual guru – she purchased the property in 1941. She slowly transformed it into one of the world’s most extraordinary botanical gardens.

Her obsession with plants eventually eclipsed almost everything else. At one point, she reportedly sold more than $ 1 million worth of her jewelry simply to preserve and expand the gardens she loved.

Today, Lotusland is home to more than 3000 species from around the world, including one of the finest collections of rare cycads anywhere.

It’s one of those places where every turn makes you stop and say, “Wait…what is THAT?”

Tracey’s Tips

Book reservations weeks ahead. Tours are intentionally small, and they sell out quickly.

Choose a docent-led tour if possible. Ours had been guiding visitors for over 20 years, and the stories brought the gardens to life.

Wear comfortable shoes. We covered about two miles without even realizing it.

Back in town, I stopped at Santa Barbara Winery for a glass of crisp Chardonnay before dinner and ended up chatting with several members of the wine club. One thing I noticed throughout this entire stretch of California was just how genuinely friendly everyone seemed.

My final dinner was at Blackbird inside the Hotel Californian. Since I was dining solo, I grabbed a seat at the bar, where an exceptionally charming bartender insisted I trust his recommendations.