Santa Barbara Redux

It’s a half-hour past sunset at the tip of Stearns Wharf. I’m looking back at the twinkling lights of Santa Barbara as they creep halfway up the hillside. The cloudless sky has a faint yellow afterglow, sort of like a flashlight under a sheet. I’m transported back in time to my earliest visit. I was 4, and Santa Barbara was the first stop on our first family vacation.

The memory is one of my oldest and clearest. The charm of a balmy Santa Barbara evening made an indelible imprint on my young mind—and standing here at this very same spot more than four decades later, I’m gratified to say not much has been lost with time.

Santa Barbara tourism officials are determined to keep it this way. There’s a big campaign under way to promote a “car-free Santa Barbara,” particularly among weekenders from Los Angeles and San Diego, with two-for-one Amtrak tickets, discounts at downtown hotels and free maps that outline bus routes, bike paths and walking trails. It’s a compelling lure, and one that can only be offered in a place like Santa Barbara, where the town’s commercial center runs right into a historic wharf and the entire shoreline is bordered by an off-road bike path.

On a three-day-weekend visit, we’re staying at the Inn of the Spanish Garden, one of several boutique hotels near the city’s core. Our spacious room comes with a fireplace and private patio, although in the mornings we prefer the central courtyard. Breakfast is included, with a small but well-appointed menu that includes several varieties of quiche, and coffee so flavorful it puts Starbucks to shame.

From our hotel, it’s just three blocks to State Street, Santa Barbara’s main commercial artery. This is a living, breathing Main Street, not a quaint touristy reenactment. Among the more eclectic shops we pop into are Marcel Hemp, a natural-clothing store “for happy lifestyles,” according to the sign; Sur La Table, a mom-and-pop version of Crate & Barrel; and Antique Alley, where the show window held a decadently elegant footstool with claw-and-ball feet.

The dining and drinking choices are equally diverse—a point driven home by the side-by-side appearance of a burger joint (Fatburger) and a juice bar (Blender in the Grass). The evening’s most magical moment comes when we stop for a frosty mug of Murphy’s Irish stout in The James Joyce, a mahogany-and-brick pub straight out of Dublin.

Not all the attractions are stationary. A snake handler outside the Paseo Nuevo, one of several shopping promenades along State, lets passersby pick up his boas, pythons and other snakes.

Our post-sunset walk down Stearns Wharf—built in 1872 so that lumber could be loaded onto ships—ends with dinner at Moby Dick’s, an end-of-the-wharf fixture for nearly 50 years. The grub (grilled salmon and clam chowder) is just okay, but let’s face it, this is a place you come for atmosphere.

The next morning we take a 3-mile bike ride along the shore, passing a freshwater lagoon popular with bird-watchers. We do lunch at Breakwater, an unpretentious little diner at Santa Barbara Harbor. The “scallone” sandwich—with a patty made of scallops and abalone—is a most enjoyable treat.

The afternoon is devoted to Santa Barbara history. First we visit the Presidio, which was founded in 1782 as the fourth and last Spanish military outpost in California. Then it’s a short drive up Garden Street to the magnificent Mission Santa Barbara, founded by Franciscan friars in 1786 and nicknamed “Queen of the Missions.”

Immersed in California’s Spanish heritage, we’re in the mood for Mexican food, and we settle on Playa Azul Café, a colorful little restaurant around the corner from our hotel. Nothing fancy here, but the cheese enchiladas and chimichangas are first-class, even by San Diego standards.

Before heading home the next morning, we drive up into the hills to check out some of the expensive ocean-view homes and stumble upon Franceschi Park. This hill-hugging jewel, named in honor of Italian horticulturist Francesco Franceschi, offers panoramic views of Santa Barbara and the coast, all the way to the Channel Islands.

A true faraway view, of a place that’s really quite close.

If You Go

The Inn of the Spanish Garden is at 915 Garden Street (805-564-4700; www.spanishgardeninn.com) in the heart of Santa Barbara, about a four-hour drive from downtown San Diego. The inn has 23 guestrooms, each with a fireplace and private patio, clustered around a Spanish-style courtyard. Rates start at $225 ($249 on weekends).

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