How I’d Redo My Trip to Carmel-By-The-Sea in California

I run out of superlatives when trying to describe Carmel-by-the-Sea. Though I'd visited a handful of times as a kid, I hadn't returned in decades when I wound up there last spring. It was one of those serendipitous vacations that come together by chance — a relative was staying in a waterfront home, but when their husband had to leave a week early, they sent out a bat signal in the family group chat. There was space for company. I booked my ticket that same day.

By all accounts, this trip should've been a disaster. For starters, this was days after the 2024 flooding of Monterey County, a deluge that knocked down powerlines and snuffed out power for countless houses in the area, including the home I was destined for. On top of that, this was also when airplanes seemed to be dropping like flies — my first flight was delayed and then canceled because of a mechanical failure. If the universe was speaking, it wasn't exactly encouraging my last-minute getaway. But I was in dire need of a vacation. Though I nearly sprained my hand gripping the airplane armrests during takeoff and landing, I made it to Carmel.

What followed was one of those rare, enchanting vacations you'll spend your whole life comparing the rest to. My week in Carmel-by-the-Sea was as close to perfect as travel can be. It seems foolhardy, then, to try and recreate its magic. Still, if I was going to do Carmel differently next time, here are a few things I would change.

First and foremost, if I had more time in this remarkable little town, I'd dedicate that time to its biography. Today, Carmel is renowned for its thriving artistic scene and breathtaking scenery, but you'll find that its story stretches back far farther than you might realize.

For example, long before the arrival of the Spanish in the 1770s, the Costanoan Rumsen Ohlone Tribe had called the area home for as many as 10,000 years. While Carmel's Indigenous community is politically and culturally active today, the consequences of colonization were devastating. On my next visit, I'd like to tour Mission San Carlos Borromeo del Río Carmelo, a National Historic Landmark built in 1797. Though it's now known for its remarkably well-preserved architecture, the mission played a dark role in the suppression of Indigenous cultural practices and the subjugation of the Costanoan Rumsen Ohlone peoples.

For tourists like me, Carmel-by-the-Sea's historic atmosphere is part of its allure. But truly appreciating this town means engaging with its full history — even the painful parts.

On a different note, I'd also seek out an architectural tour of Carmel-by-the-Sea's residential neighborhoods. If you can peel yourself away from the art galleries and eateries of downtown, you'll find tranquil residential streets lined with fairytale cottages. Architect Hugh Comstock designed these homes, and they've become an enduring part of the community's character.

The final change I'd make to my Carmel getaway would be to broaden its scope. While I did make it down to Big Sur and the towering forests nearby, I wish I'd had more time to immerse myself in these landscapes. With its legendary hippie bonafides and its smattering of funky bookstores, shops, eateries, and hotels, this stretch of coast evokes a different sort of romance.

As much as I adored the rental I stayed at during my last visit, I think I'd opt to rent a campervan next time. Whatever I'd sacrifice in creature comforts, I'd regain in freedom — freedom to chase the shoreline, linger where the view demands it, and indulge my long-dormant free spirit. With a van as my home base, I could divvy my time however I pleased among Carmel-by-the-Sea's gorgeous vistas and neighborhoods.

It's hard to imagine a more magical trip than the last one I made to Carmel-by-the-Sea. Still, with these changes, I could create unforgettable new memories without resurrecting the old. As with so many places along California's coast, there's a lifetime of adventure to be had in beautiful Carmel.