Packing for our long awaited holiday to Los Angeles and Las Vegas was a bit of a challenge, but the thrill of finally heading out on this trip made it all worth it. We’d been tied up with visits and commitments for a while, so when we decided it was time to take a break and enjoy ourselves, the excitement took over. With suitcases in hand and big expectations, we set off for a journey that would take us from the sunny beaches of LA to the bright lights of Vegas. This post is all about the first leg—our time in Los Angeles, soaking in the vibes of its famous coastlines. From Laguna Beach to Santa Monica, every stop added something special to our adventure, and I can’t wait to share it.
Getting ready wasn’t exactly simple. We’d been planning this holiday for months, mapping out where we’d go and what we’d see, but packing brought us back to earth. LA’s got that relaxed beach atmosphere, but the weather shifts—cool mornings, warm afternoons, cooler nights—and Vegas promised a different feel with its desert heat and lively evenings. I stood over my suitcase, wondering how many shorts I’d need versus jackets, while my partner threw in a few extra shirts for good measure. Shoes were a debate too—sandals for the sand, sneakers for walking, something nicer for dinners out. It took a couple of hours, some repacking, and plenty of “are we sure about this?” but we got it done. The thought of landing there kept us going—every folded item felt like a step closer to the fun.
We arrived in Los Angeles full of anticipation, ready to jump into the beach life we’d been imagining. First up was Laguna Beach, about an hour south of the city, and it lived up to the hype. The drive down was a treat—highways curving past cliffs and glimpses of the ocean—and when we pulled up, it felt like we’d walked into a picture perfect scene. Laguna’s nestled between stunning landscapes, with rocky coves and clear water that looked almost unreal. The beach is known for its 1000 steps down to the shore, though it’s really closer to 200. I’ve got a slight thing about heights, so those steps had me on edge—steep, winding down the cliff, gripping the railing tight—but I made it.
Once we hit the sand, any nerves melted away. The beach was pristine—clean, well maintained, with soft sand and waves rolling in just right. We strolled along the water, feeling the tide brush our feet, and took in the scenery—rock formations sticking out, the horizon stretching wide. Climbing back up was another test—my legs ached, and I stopped a few times to breathe—but the view from the top, gazing out over the Pacific, made it unforgettable. Laguna was a peaceful getaway, a great way to kick off our holiday, and we left with sandy toes and happy vibes, eager for what was next.
Venice Beach came after that, and it was a complete change of pace. Where Laguna was tranquil, Venice was alive and kicking. We parked near the boardwalk—Ocean Front Walk, if you want the official name—and stepped into a whirlwind of activity. It’s tough to sum up unless you’ve seen it, but it’s like a street party that never stops. Performers were all over—jugglers tossing pins, musicians playing, artists sketching quick portraits. Bodybuilders pumped iron at Muscle Beach, skaters rolled by, and vendors sold everything from hats to trinkets. We wandered through, soaking it all in, chuckling at the sheer energy of the place.
The beach was right there too, so after the boardwalk, we slipped off our shoes and hit the sand. It’s a broad stretch, open and inviting, with a shoreline that goes on for miles. We sat for a bit, watching kids dig in the sand and waves crash, the boardwalk’s buzz fading into the background. Later, we checked out Abbott Kinney Boulevard nearby, a street lined with quirky restaurants. We grabbed a bite—fish tacos, light and tasty—and ate outside, people watching as the day wound down. Venice mixed loud fun with chill beach time, showing us a side of LA we hadn’t expected. We headed back to our hotel worn out but thrilled from it all.
Next was Surfrider Beach in Malibu, and it brought its own flavor to our holiday. It’s one of the top surf spots in LA County, right by the Malibu Pier, and you can sense the surfing culture the second you get there. We don’t surf—never tried it, probably never will—but watching was a blast. The beach was busy with surfers, boards tucked under arms, wetsuits gleaming as they paddled out. The waves weren’t huge, but they kept coming, and we parked ourselves on the sand, cheering like we knew what was happening. It’s a slim strip of shore, wedged between the ocean and the highway, but it’s got this easy, cool charm.
Surfrider wasn’t just about the waves, though. There’s a lagoon next to it—Malibu Lagoon—where the water’s still and birds hang out. We took a short trail, about a quarter mile, that loops around it, spotting birds like egrets and ducks. The path’s flat and simple, cutting through reeds and along the water, and it was a nice break from the beach action. We snapped some photos, enjoying the quiet, and it added this natural twist to the day. Surfrider blended that surf town feel with a touch of wilderness, and it was a standout stop. We left with sand in our shoes and a new love for Malibu’s relaxed side, ready for the next spot.
Santa Monica State Beach was our last LA beach, and it’s the big one—two miles of golden sand, the most popular in the city. We rolled up in the late afternoon, and it was buzzing. The beach is massive, with room for sunbathers, bikers, and roller bladers to all spread out. We started with a walk, dodging the bike path where people sped by, and found a spot to sit. The sand was warm, the water glinted, and there was this constant hum—volleyball nets bouncing, kids laughing, folks lounging. It was the quintessential California beach day we’d been chasing.
The Santa Monica Pier was the real draw, though. It’s this classic spot stretching into the ocean, with a Ferris wheel turning lazily overhead. We walked it end to end, passing arcade games and snack stands—cotton candy and fries calling our names. The views were incredible—beach houses along the coast, waves below, and as the sun dipped, everything turned golden. We found a place near the pier’s edge, watching the sunset light up the sky in orange and pink, and it felt like the perfect moment. With the breeze blowing and the day winding down, we just sat there, totally content, taking it all in.
Packing for this holiday had been tricky, but it worked out. For LA, I’d gone with light stuff—tees, shorts, a jacket for cooler nights—and sneakers that could take the sand and streets. My partner packed the same vibe, plus a hat for shade, and we’d thrown in swimsuits that saw action at every beach. Vegas was still coming up, so we’d added some sharper pieces—jeans, a decent shirt, cleaner shoes—but LA’s casual feel meant we kept it simple. The suitcase stress was long gone by then, replaced by the rhythm of beach days and laid back evenings.
Laguna Beach started us off with its calm beauty. Those steps—223, I counted later—had me nervous going down, but the beach below was spotless and serene. We’d poked around tide pools, spotting tiny crabs, and sat listening to the waves. Venice flipped it—its boardwalk was a riot, but the sand offered a breather. We’d watched a guy juggle fire, grabbed smoothies, then kicked back by the water. Abbott Kinney’s tacos were a treat—fresh and zesty after a long walk. Surfrider brought that surf scene, even for us non surfers, and the lagoon trail was a bonus we didn’t see coming.
Santa Monica wrapped it up perfectly. The beach’s size gave us space to roam, and the pier added this nostalgic touch. We’d passed on the rides—too full from snacks—but that sunset stroll was everything. Our shoes were sandy, our skin tanned, and we were fully in holiday mode by then. LA’s beaches weren’t just places—they were moments, each one adding to the last. We’d gone from tackling my height worries to laughing at Venice’s antics, and every bit felt like ours.
Vegas was up next, and we were ready for the change—bright lights, late nights, a new kind of buzz. But LA had set a high bar. Packing had been a chore—sandals or boots, how many layers—but once we were there, it didn’t matter. We’d filled our bags with what we thought we’d need, and it held up. The beaches gave us sun, sand, and that easy California feel we’d wanted, and we left each one with memories to keep. As we packed up for Vegas, we were already looking forward to the next part, but LA’s coast had given us a holiday start we’d never forget.
