Swap surfing in California for Santa Cruz in Portugal
Sprawled on a towel, observing silhouetted surfers chasing the ocean-plunging carmine sun, I don’t need to squint to imagine I’m in the Golden State. But my sandy toes and salty hair are products of the Atlantic, not the Pacific. And this Santa Cruz belongs to Portugal’s Costa de Prata, not California.
Mutual monikers are not the only parallels: this coast has 300 sunny days a year, top-notch surf (after Malibu, nearby Ericeira was the second place to be designated a World Surfing Reserve), and blond sands stretching towards wave-carved coastal bluffs and ocean arches.
In this former fishing village, just an hour’s drive north-west of Lisbon, tranquillity flows like the tides. A soul-healing clutch of low-slung, whitewashed streets waymarked by an out-of-place beachside crenellated turret – the sole remnant of a palace plan thwarted by the 1929 Wall Street crash – it’s the kind of delightfully textbook Portuguese place you stumble upon serendipitously. And once you do, you won’t want to leave. Japanese poet Kazuo Dan visited in 1971 to have a “conversation between Heaven and Earth” – a chat he continued for 16 months.
If you’re a surfer, you’ll instantly agree. If not, lessons will leave you convinced. Check-in at chic Noah Surf House, complete with an ocean-view infinity pool and skate park, and arranging all-age surf classes is effortless. Flawlessly renovated Villa Galega (doubles from €115 B&B) affords a more homely escape.
Santa Cruz and surrounding Torres Vedras boasts 11 beaches certified as pollution-free – more than any other Portuguese municipality. Tread the dune-crossing boardwalk to river-wrapped Praia Azul to flop on the finest sweep.
Back in town, beachside feasts don’t come better than breezy Bronzear. Split a steaming pot of arroz de peixe, a seafood-stacked rice stew, or take plump, signature crabs as your table’s centrepiece during September’s Festival da Sapateira. California cravings? Noah’s grilled cheese and portobello burgers hit the spot. Pair with a local Touriga Nacional red wine – a robust stand-in for a Cali Cab Sav – or slip away to the family-run winery Quinta da Almiara for a vine-hemmed, in situ tasting.
Evenings usually end ringing the doorbell of Manel, the town’s oldest bar, for jazz-accompanied candlelit cocktails and Lisbon-brewed IPAs. Out front, an engraved stone shares Kazuo’s words contemplating chasing the setting sun to the end of the sea – the haiku that Santa Cruz’s surfers now scrupulously honor.
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