For years we’ve heard friends talk about all-inclusive vacations. Tales of gluttonous buffets, endless umbrella drinks, and enough beach activities to keep them busy from sunrise to sundown—it had all become the stuff of legends.
Set largely in beach destinations, these resorts offer packages that cover your room, food, drinks, and sometimes even activities. They’re attractive for their excess—and simplicity. For the all-inclusive set, all it takes is wearing a color-coded wristband to get access to the good life, where the toughest decision is figuring out how to position your lounge chair.
This type of travel never appealed to our family, partly because we enjoy seeing and exploring many destinations in each place we visit. We’ve traveled the globe since the girls were little, preferring boutique hotels and resorts, and weren’t accustomed to spending several days at the same resort, never leaving until the return trip to the airport. We’re just not confident in that much togetherness, we told ourselves. It’s the same reason we’ve never been on a cruise.
But then we experienced two forms of all-inclusiveness that rocked our worlds. Could it be that we’d been mistaken about this vacation concept? Last summer, two trips changed our minds.
Our first foray was at the Fairmont Mayakoba resort in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Luxurious and beautifully designed, Mayakoba takes its all-inclusive offerings seriously, in the form of complimentary boat tours (we saw tropical birds and a baby alligator!), and experiences that nod to the Yucatán Peninsula’s Mayan roots, like chefs incorporating insects into their lavish meals (a traditional Mayan ingredient) and spa treatments that use locally sourced chocolate as a natural exfoliant. The kids were easily romanced by the beauty and zen vibe, and so were we.
Instantly our family fell in love with the all-inclusive life here—not least the obligatory buffet, which we’d previously tried so hard to avoid. Here that buffet was vast, authentic, and delicious. We loved the handmade tortillas and sopes and sheer variety of fruit, everything from berries to cactus fruit. We’d come with preconceived notions that all-inclusive deals meant run-of-the-mill platters of overcooked vegetables and mystery meats in brown gravy. Thankfully, we were wrong. The experience changed our opinions—and sent us to the gym each day to work off the calories. (As a note, all-inclusive can mean different things—some encompass just meals, while others include house drinks. If we wanted top shelf, it would cost extra.)
Just a couple of months later, we ventured to Aruba, our family’s first trip to the aquamarine waters and white sands of the Caribbean. Since tourism is the island’s primary economic engine, the resorts have been designed around maximum enjoyment of its beautiful beaches and waters. A huge portion of the land is uninhabited and inaccessible, so hanging out at the resort seems like the most natural way to enjoy Aruba. During our stay at Tamarjin Resort, we donned our wristbands and immediately wandered into the restaurants and facilities, both there and at the sister property just down the beach, the Divi Resort.
With no stress, no car rides or time constraints, our R&R levels deepened dramatically. We slept in, let the girls wake and rise when they wanted, snorkeled the warm coral reefs teeming with tropical fish, went for long walks on the beach, and drank sunset rum drinks while watching the sky change colors. It was heaven. When we wanted to go on an outing, the resort arranged for Jeep tours and more. But really? All we wanted was to stay at the resort and relax. I read three books, napped incessantly, and roused from my Caribbean delirium just long enough to walk the boardwalk to the restaurants and back again.
And yes, the irony was not lost on us: The only thing we really had to decide was where to position our lounge chairs.
Ray’s Tennis doesn’t look like much from the outside. Never has. It’s just a green box with cloudy windows in Hillcrest, just steps away from a McDonald’s on University Avenue. But for nearly 60 years, this place has been the genesis for three generations of San Diego tennis dreams. Head inside, and you enter one of the tennis world’s great cornucopias.
For years, there was a tennis court behind the store, where owner Bob Ray gave countless lessons. It was like a racket-sport speakeasy; most customers didn’t realize the court existed unless Bob or his wife, Hiroko, guided them through the back door of the shop. Eventually they converted it into a half-court indoors—where a patron might take a racket for a few trial thwacks, trying to avoid rounders of tennis clothes that shared the space.
The shop is an abridged living history. Relics hang from the ceiling: a model of an old metal racket used by fiery lefthander Jimmy Connors in his heyday, and a version of the wooden Donnay that Björn Borg wielded on his way to five consecutive Wimbledon championships from 1976 to 1980.
And just inside the front door is Hiroko eternally stringing new rackets, carefully threading and adjusting the tension of the polyester strings, back and forth, until she has the entire racket head strung.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
“I worked seven days a week—five days off in the year,” she says. “My hearing is still good. Physically, I’m as good as I was. Working seven days a week, standing all day. I’m mentally healthier than most people.”
The racket stringing is an operation she does up to 20 times a day—and one that, in some ways, resembles the thread work done by her father decades ago, when he ran a tailor’s shop in Japan.
Hiroko, now 81, was born in the city of Yokosuka at the tail end of the WWII. Her family evacuated to the countryside to escape the bombing raids, and she remembers growing up surrounded by rice fields and mountains. It was in Japan that Hiroko met Bob, a third-generation San Diegan, in the late 1960s, when he was stationed there with the Navy.
Among his possessions at the time was a tennis racket. Inherited from his father, who died when Bob was 11, this racket changed the trajectory of his life: He played constantly, filling up his school days, afternoons, and evenings on the tennis court. He was one of the highest-ranked teen players in the state, and he dreamed of joining the international tournament circuit after his stint in the Navy. But—speaking plainly—he acknowledges that he wasn’t quite good enough to compete with the best of the best. So, instead, he modified his dreams. He and Hiroko returned to San Diego in 1968, and he took a job as the club pro at Morley Field. By their mid-20s, in lieu of touring the world on the tennis circuit, the couple was running the club’s tennis store.
They spent 11 years at Morley Field, which at the time was one of the city’s tennis epicenters, hosting major tournaments for juniors. When the city handed over the store lease to a wealthier applicant, the Rays took over the property on University Avenue and moved in their tennis gear. They have been there ever since—through the McEnroe and Navratilova and Evert eras; the rise of Agassi and Sampras and Graf; the reign of the Williams sisters; the Federer-Nadal-Djokovic rivalry; and into the Alcaraz era. In the near-half century they have sold tennis gear in Hillcrest, the Rays became beloved anchors of the neighborhood’s business community, symbols of stability in an ever-changing environment.
At 84, Bob is still lean and, in his Lacoste tracksuit and Adidas cap, remains every bit the club pro. Like Hiroko, he comes to the store every day—though sometimes, if he is playing tennis in the morning, he might arrive a little later.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
But time has started to take its toll. His hearing isn’t what it used to be, and the aging process is revealing itself to be true. And much to the disappointment of their loyal clientele, San Diego’s “First Couple of Tennis” is retiring, a milestone that marks the end of an extraordinarily long chapter in the city’s tennis history.
But Ray and Hiroko didn’t sell the building to a developer for condos or to a big-box retailer looking to open a boutique outpost. Determined that Ray’s should remain a tennis temple, they have negotiated a sale to a former employee who wants to continue the Rays’ legacy.
As of this writing, Hiroko and Bob remain in charge, Hiroko stringing rackets, Bob sharing his expertise about new gear. As much as they love what they’ve built, their hope is to move on soon.
For Hiroko, the prospect of retirement is bittersweet. “What am I going to do?” she asks. “Am I going to be ok? I never had a boring life. Always busy. Business first. I’m so involved in the business—because I didn’t want to fail.”
She looks around her store as she continues stringing. For her, the gladiatorial nature of tennis has always been a metaphor for how to succeed in life. “People have to have a drive,” she says. “You can’t just quit because you lose to so-and-so. Tennis players have that mindset.”
She pauses to talk about all the people who have come through the store’s door over the decades, and the relationships she has built with them. “It’s wonderful to have a great customer. That’s probably the reason I lasted this long.”
Sasha Abramsky is the West Coast correspondent for the Nation magazine and the author of nine books. His tenth book, Chaos Comes Calling, will be published by Bold Type Books in September.
Mad Libs. License plate bingo. The “quiet game,” a universal parent savior. Long live Slug Bug, where kids with zero self-control punched each other in the arm every time they saw a VW Bug in the wild—an activity no doubt invented by some Volkswagen marketing intern who now quietly runs the world. A family that cruises together bruises together.
So many threats to pull the car over and leave unruly progeny on the side road for good. GenXers are such baddies because our parents actually followed through. But we tracked those boomers down—or just walked into the wilderness and formed angsty flannel bands. We survived.
There were no downloaded movies back then. No seatback entertainment. Just a mythical road, a few bug-gutty windows, and the fast-moving summer world beyond. Seatbelts ignored, hot air whipping a frenzy of hair and beef-stick child scent.
Very few chaoses match being trapped in a moving car with your entire bloodline. It’s unimaginable, but we kinda liked it.
The road trip was always about endurance, discovery, adventure, creativity, and memory. Somewhere between gas station hot dogs, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and musty motels with coin-operated vibrating beds—the bored between moments of mutual expedition sealed our love of the long distance car ride.
To respark road lust, we’ve put together a coastal California run up the 101 and Highway 1. The state’s famed road trip siblings, with ocean on one side and possibility in every direction. We analyzed what’s incoming, just-arrived, compelling, or a classic in need of a reminder in almost every county along the way—the kind of places we’d drag our family (or dog or best friend) to.
We start our trip just outside San Diego County lines and work our way through San Francisco. Because, by then, it’s time to turn the car around and do it all again.
The road is still the main character.
Photo Credit: @Tanveerbadal
Laguna Beach
A 90-minute drive from downtown San Diego, Laguna Beach is home to serene coves, big-deal art events, miles of hiking trails, and the greatest number of beachfront hotels in California. Among the latter is the newly revamped icon, Surf & Sand Laguna Beach. Along with tweaks to the guestrooms, pool, and onsite Splashes restaurant, the remodel includes a new spa, Aquaterra. Wake up to ocean views, then get outside: Go tide pooling at Shaw’s Cove, or descend to Thousand Steps Beach and spend the day stretched out with a salacious summer read. For dinner, get fancy at the upscale (no swimwear allowed!) Studio Mediterranean at the Montage Laguna Beach hotel. Led by Greek chef Dennis Efthymiou, it serves feta-, phyllo-, and fish-forward cuisine inspired by his heritage.
Newport Beach
Head another 15 minutes up the road to Newport, an unlikely destination for adrenaline junkies both relatively tame (family-friendly thrill rides at the Balboa Fun Zone amusement park) and willing to risk life and limb (30-foot waves at the Wedge surf break). It’s also increasingly a killer place to eat, with Luke’s, of international Maine-lobster-roll fame, having recently opened locations in town. James Beard Award winner Tyson Cole just opened his sleek omakase and sushi restaurant Uchi this year. Once you’re stuffed, lay your head at Bay Shores Peninsula Hotel, a midcentury-inspired, 25-room boutique resort overlooking the sea. Watch the waves from beside the hotel’s rooftop fire pits, or paddle out on surfboards provided free for guests.
Huntington Beach
Huntington Beach has been an icon of California surf culture since the 1910s thanks to Hawaiian Olympic swimmer Duke Kahanamoku. Surfers still chase waves near his old haunts, including the Huntington Beach Pier, where the aptly named Huntington’s on the Pier is scheduled to arrive this fall in the location of the old Ruby’s Diner (RIP, Ruby). It’ll serve seafood, obviously, plus livestreamed videos of groms wiping out just a few feet away. Sports here don’t always require wetsuits: Mini-golf bar Playground is equipped with the obvious, as well as arcade and pinball games. Or bypass physical exertion en masse at the new Holistic Lounge at Hyatt Regency. It’s packed with newfandangled healing tech that uses light, heat, and electromagnetic fields to allegedly repair stressed skin and muscles tired from lifting mojitos.
Amelia Rodriguez is a writer and journalist and winner of the San Diego Press Club's 2023 Rising Star Award and 2024 Best of Show Award, she’s also covered music, food, arts and culture, fashion, and design for Rolling Stone, Palm Springs Life, and other national and regional publications. After work, you can find her hunting down San Diego’s best pastries and maintaining her five-year Duolingo streak.
From artsy, boutique hotels in New Mexico to a revolutionary restaurant in Baja, explore what’s new in these desert cities around San Diego.
Coachella Valley
Terra Palm Springs, Palm Springs
Serenity-seeking guests (and, presumably, the free-spirited ghosts of naked people) roam this 13-room wellness escape that was once a clothing-optional resort. Opened a year ago, it offers exclusive, 24-hour access to a Himalayan salt sauna, cold plunge pool, and rain room. For food and drink, it’s tonics and juice cleanses, plus poolside bites from Michael Beckman, exec chef of the nearby Workshop Kitchen + Bar.
Casa Palma Hotel & Bungalows, Palm Springs
Opened last year on the historic, two-acre Movie Colony neighborhood property originally built by actor Errol Flynn (it was called the Normandy then), this is a micro-hotel for people who love Taschen books. Casa Palma reimagined the place as a minimalist, veneers-white 33-room escape with pickleball; tennis; and a mountain view bistro serving breakfast, salads, and sandwiches.
“Surfing in the desert” sounds like an absurd ayahuasca notion, but the Coachella Valley already has one wave pool (Palm Springs Surf Club), and, soon, a 5.5-acre surf lagoon will anchor DSRT Surf, an incoming resort at the Desert Willow Golf Courses. Planned for completion in mid-2026, it’ll include a 139-room hotel, 57 luxury villas, and restaurants.
Photo Credit: Patrick Chin
New Mexico
Hotel Willa, Taos
Last spring, the Casetta Group (the same folks who own SD’s Pearl Hotel) resuscitated an old motor lodge in Taos, a longtime beacon for creatives, and named it after Willa Cather (who finished her novel Death Comes to the Archbishop in town). The 51-room Hotel Willa has adobe architecture, an artist residency, a pool with a giant weeping willow nearby, and a seasonal restaurant from husband-and-wife duo chef Johnny Ortiz Concha and artist Maida Branch.
Arrive Albuquerque, Albuquerque
Originally built in 1965 as the Downtowner, a classic, six-story inn on the motel-culture strip of Route 66 in downtown Albuquerque cycled through several identities before last year, when Palisociety reimagined it with the Secret Gallery (featuring modern work from Southwest artists), a cocktail bar, a restaurant, and 137 dog-friendly rooms. Like any good desert road trip hotel, Arrive Albuquerque hotel is a cheeky, midcentury affair centered around an umbrella-shaded pool scene and those strappy ’80s patio loungers.
Courtesy of Leo’s Santa Fe
Leo’s, Santa Fe
After forming Vital Spaces, an org that leased abandoned warehouses and rented them at a low cost to artists, furniture designer Jonathan Boyd launched Leo’s, a no-signage, no-reservations restaurant last August with James Beard Award–winning chef Zakary Pelaccio. It focuses on Thai and Malaysian dishes—catfish sum tum, pork belly with garlic prik phao, fried chicken with tofu-mustard sauce and jiao chili sauce—plus natural wines and inventive cocktails. It promptly landed on Esquire’s Best New Restaurants of 2025.
Arizona
Trailborn Grand Canyon, Williams
Trailborn is the base camp of hotel groups. It’s focused on America’s grand outdoorsy arenas, with spots in the Rockies; the Blue Ridge Mountains; and now, Williams, a mile from the Grand Canyon Railroad Depot. This kitchy, 96-room roadside hotel offers a moody, wood-paneled steakhouse; adventure excursions; free breakfast inside a bustling “camp hall;” and front-row access to the fanfare of Route 66’s centennial celebration this year.
Early this year, Paradise Valley (the mountain-wrapped town neighboring Scottsdale) will welcome the 40-acre Kimpton Miralina, with six pools; more than 400 rooms and villas; and three restaurants, including Hecho Libre, a new Baja-inspired concept from fellow Beard semifinalist Wes Avila (known for Angry Egret Dinette and MXO in Los Angeles).
International Dark Sky Discovery Center, Fountain Hills
As cities grow and stargazing becomes an endangered pastime, an org called International Dark Sky Places works to protect the best areas in the world to behold night skies. One of them is Fountain Hills on the outskirts of Phoenix. This summer, it’ll get even better with a $28 million discovery center featuring a massive telescope, a planetarium, science exhibits, and a stargazing terrace.
Courtesy of Cote Korean Steakhouse
Nevada
Cote Korean Steakhouse, Las Vegas
Cote is the only Michelin-starred Korean steakhouse in the US, an idea from Seoul-born and James Beard nominated chef and restaurateur Simon Kim. Part of The Venetian’s $1.5 billion renovation, it’s a show—18,000 square feet, with stadium seating, VIP skyboxes, a crow’s nest DJ booth, a glowing central bar, 1,200 wine bottles, and the inimitable buzz of energetic impulse spending.
F1 Arcade, Las Vegas
2025 was a big year for Formula 1 racing—the sport celebrated 75 years with a Brad Pitt film (for which Rancho Bernardo–based Sony Electronics created a one-of-a-kind camera that took viewers inside the cockpit), and Caesars Palace welcomed a 21,000-square-foot F1 Arcade where fans can flex their inner Lando Norris with 87 racing simulators.
GSR Arena, Reno
When built in the 1970s as the MGM Grand, the Grand Sierra Resort was one of the biggest hotels in the world with over 1,000 rooms. Almost 50 years later, it’s nearly doubled its occupancy and is undergoing a billion dollar upgrade. The star will be the $435 million, 10,000-seat GSR Arena, which broke ground in September. Once completed (hopefully in fall 2027), it’ll be home to the University of Nevada men’s basketball team.
Courtesy of Dendric Estate
Utah
Dendric Estate, Kamas
Utah’s High West Distillery was a groundbreaker, the first legal distillery in Utah when it opened in 2006. Now High West’s master distiller Brendan Coyle has left to open his dream project with his wife, Carly. They purchased 20 acres in Kamas Valley at the foothills of the Uinta mountain range, where they’re growing high elevation apples and flipping them into bone-dry boozy cider with Dendric Estate. You can tour the estate or wait for the onsite tasting room, planned for 2027.
The Inn at Sundance Mountain Resort, Sundance
In 2020, Robert Redford sold his famed, conservationist-minded mountain ski resort to Broadreach Capital Partners and Cedar Capital Partners, who promised to keep his “build some, preserve more” vision going. Since, it’s earned a Michelin Key. This month, The Inn at Sundance Mountain Resort—a 63-room, ski-in/ski-out inn—opens with views of the 12,000-foot Mount Timpanagos. Perched right out front, the Outlaw Express chair lift takes you to the Mandan summit in seven minutes (getting there used to take 20). There’s a wrap-around porch, relaxation pools, a sauna, outdoor showers, and a cold plunge at The Springs.
Canopy by Hilton Deer Valley East Village, Park City
Four years after hosting the Winter Olympics, famed ski-only resort Deer Valley is undergoing a massive expansion of its East Village, including eight new hotels (the Grand Hyatt is already there, and the Four Seasons and others are incoming). Scheduled to open this summer, Canopy will be Hilton’s 180-room, ski-in/ ski-out property with après-ski and rooftop lounges. Deer Valley has also added 2,000 additional acres of skiable slopes, 100 new runs, and 10 new chairlifts.
Baja
Diego, Valle de Guadalupe
In the 2010s, Ensenada-born chef Diego Hernández was a headliner in the food-culture revolution in Valle de Guadalupe with Corazón de Tierra—named number 30 in the 2018 “World’s 50 Best Restaurants” list. It closed in 2020 (damn pandemic!). Last January, he returned with an eponymous 40-seat restaurant, Diego, inside Valle’s Museo de La Vid y El Vino, relying on onsite gardens and in-house butchery to prepare seasonal, multi-course tasting menus and à la carte dishes nodding to his Corazón roots.
Kadún, Cabo San Lucas
Over the years, the trend in Cabo resorts has been to get away from the action with secluded beachfront hideouts. Well, not all who travel to Cabo want to be tucked away. Last October, Mexico Grand Hotels (known for elaborate luxury resorts like Marina Fiesta and El Encanto) opened a smaller but still opulent thing: Kadún, a 110-room hotel with a rooftop pool and sundeck. It’s within walking distance to the Cabo Marina (the Vegas of Baja’s southern tip) and Medano Beach (one of the only swimmable beaches in Cabo).
Courtesy of Carnival Cruise Line
Ensenada Bay Village, Ensenada
Carnival Cruise Line has a vested interest in building up the ports it parks in. It’s established spots in Grand Turk, Roatan, and Cozumel, and its next elaborate disembarkment project is a $26 million beachside playground in Ensenada, planned for completion in 2027. Expect a sort of Pinocchio’s Island isthmus packed with zip lines, dune buggy rides, river rides, an adult pool, thermal springs, a spa, and wine and cheese pairings from Valle de Guadalupe (the wine region is 15 minutes inland).
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
Amelia Rodriguez is a writer and journalist and winner of the San Diego Press Club's 2023 Rising Star Award and 2024 Best of Show Award, she’s also covered music, food, arts and culture, fashion, and design for Rolling Stone, Palm Springs Life, and other national and regional publications. After work, you can find her hunting down San Diego’s best pastries and maintaining her five-year Duolingo streak.
For Executive Chef Emily Brubaker, Omni La Costa Resort & Spa feels like home. She grew up just a mile-and-a-half away from the 400-acre property and fondly recalls walking the golf course perimeter as a kid. Though her ambitions led her away from San Diego for nearly two decades in which she honed her craft in some of the highest of high-profile Las Vegas restaurants—including triple Michelin-starred Joël Robuchon at MGM Grand—they ultimately brought her back to North County.
Courtesy of Omni La Costa
Today, the classically French-trained chef, who’s fresh off a victory on NBC’s Yes, Chef!, judged by Martha Stewart and José Andrés, oversees Omni La Costa Resort & Spa’s seven distinct dining concepts. Her goal is to elevate the resort’s culinary program with her creative, hyperlocal ingredient-driven approach while maintaining the Spanish- inspired flavors and fresh California coastal cuisine that are the bedrock of its culinary identity.
“The San Diego food scene is really growing, and in North County alone, it’s really exploded in the last five years,” Brubaker says. “There are Michelin stars, beautiful tasting menus, craft bakers, and all this food—when I was growing up in La Costa, it was fish tacos. Now there are really cool things popping up, and I’m so happy to be here to see where it’s going to go.”
Brubaker gives chefs de cuisine at each individual restaurant autonomy, however, her influence is evident across the resort.
For example, lobby restaurant Bar Traza serves as Omni La Costa’s culinary centerpiece and features bold Spanish flavors in a lively, social atmosphere. Brubaker overhauled the menu to be more consistent and centered on casual bites with that signature vibe. Think smoky paprika, vibrant citrus, and Spanish meats and cheeses.
At VUE, the focus is on seasonal offerings, California coastal cuisine, and Baja-inspired dishes. She and Chef de Cuisine Cameron Dixon change the menu biannually, which heading into summer, will highlight farm-fresh produce and hyperlocal ingredients—the resort even has its own herb garden and honeybee hives.
Courtesy of Omni La Costa
Poolside dining options are leaning into the country’s 250th this summer with a selection of classic American dishes with an Omni La Costa twist. And Bob’s Steak & Chop House (Brubaker is a trained butcher) offers a classic steakhouse experience with elevated service.
The chef and company also plan menus for special events at the resort where her creativity can really shine. For an upcoming National Ski Association dinner, the banquet hall will be transformed into an Alpine-themed winter wonderland complete with a snow machine, savory sausages, and melty, decadent raclette. A recent dinner was built around the Carlsbad Flower Fields and each course was matched to a color of ranunculus (Did you know pink dragonfruit are grown in North County? You do now.).
“It’s my zen to be in the kitchen playing with food,” Brubaker says.
Omni La Costa’s culinary program is a key part of the resort experience. And with Brubaker’s leadership, it’s becoming a draw for visitors and locals alike.
“These aren’t just hotel restaurants, these are restaurants that you should go to. They’re destinations, and I’m really hoping for the future that’s where we’re going,” Brubaker says.
Courtesy of Omni La Costa
Brubaker is also channeling her experience on Yes, Chef! into the culture at Omni La Costa—more emphasis on teamwork and collaboration, empowering her staff to share constructive critiques, and embracing different perspectives. Alongside her leadership role, Brubaker has become an advocate for mental health in the hospitality industry, serving as chief ambassador for the Burnt Chef Project and serves on the Board of Advisors for the Apex Culinary Program, where she mentors and develops future talent.
What the hell am I doing in Arizona looking for water?
It’s the kind of question that creeps in the moment you step off the plane at Sky Harbor and the dry heat hits like an open oven door. Arizona is famous precisely because it’s unforgiving, a place where the presence of life amid the extreme lack of water is its own marvel. The compelling thing about attractions on this hot moon is the ingenuity behind the fact that they exist at all.
Long before the golf courses and cul-de-sacs, the Indigenous Hohokam people engineered one of the most sophisticated canal systems in the ancient world, diverting water from the Salt River to irrigate crops and sustain entire communities. Built by hand more than 1,000 years ago, portions of those canals still guide water through the Mesa valley today.
Phoenix’s main pockets tell different stories: Scottsdale has its polished, resort-town sheen; Tempe is full of young brains on vices; and Mesa is expansive and quietly strange. The kind of Arizona you think of when someone says Arizona. It’s the state’s third-largest city by population, but it feels like a series of outposts stitched together: historic downtown blocks, desert trailheads, leftovers of the Old West, and now—the improbable thing that brought me here—a surf park.
As I pull into Revel Surf Park, a watery lagoon glows blue against a backdrop of red dirt and distant peaks. The waves come and go like someone endlessly draining and refilling a mirage.
Revel—the centerpiece of Mesa’s Cannon Beach development—opened in late 2024, turning a patch of desert into Arizona’s first full-scale surf park. Roughly 2.2 million gallons of water circulate through the lagoon in an area that averages just over eight inches of rain a year.
It looks excessive, wildly irresponsible. It isn’t.
“We built this very strategically,” general manager Ryan Armstrong explains. “The well is located right here on the property. It’s processed and piped right into the lagoon.”
The pool runs on a closed-loop filtration system, recycling every drop and losing water only to evaporation. Developers say the park uses less water than a single golf hole—and a mere two percent of what the alfalfa field that once occupied the site consumed. Because Revel draws directly from the ground rather than city taps, Armstrong notes, “our water bill is essentially zero.”
Like many of the staff members at Revel, Armstrong is a surfer transplanted from the coast. The wave technology he oversees didn’t come out of a research lab, but a backyard. Matt Gunn, the creator of Swell Manufacturing, built a functional model of the wave in his own yard before partnering with developer Cole Cannon and pro surfer Shane Beschen to bring it to scale. The result is a private ocean—a lagoon where surfers can choose between the sloping lines of Trestles, the hollow barrels of Oahu’s V-Land, or Malibu’s mellow shoulders.
As a surfer spoiled by San Diego’s coastline, I’m equal parts curious and skeptical. Wave pools can feel sterile, stripped of the wild consequence that makes the ocean seem alive. But the sea can’t come close to the constant supply of waves a surf park offers. “We’re running eight hours a day, eight sessions a day, 10 surfers in each session, with waves every minute,” Armstrong tells me. “We have stadium lights, so sometimes we’re out here surfing until midnight.”
I opt for the Trestles setting, expecting smooth sailing. I’m wrong. The drop is quick, the margin for error thin. I get pitched. I recover. I link together a few snaps, then lose it again. Even manufactured waves have a way of humbling you. A few solid rides save the session.
As I dry off, Armstrong walks me through the broader vision. The 44-acre Cannon Beach district surrounding Revel will include roughly 500,000 square feet of retail.
“There are about seven or eight restaurants going in and a super high-end med spa,” he says, pointing toward the construction. Beyond food and surfing, the site is designed as a multi-sport hub. A massive KTR (Kids That Rip) indoor action sports park is in the works, featuring trampolines, parkour obstacles, and a world-class skate park.
This corner of the desert won’t stay quiet for long.
In hindsight, the advantages to Revel Surf Park are obvious: no suffocating crowds, no jockeying for position. Waves arrive every minute, precisely on schedule (if you miss one, that’s on you). There are no flat days at Revel. You don’t have to monitor weather reports and tide charts to know when it might be a good day for a surf. The swell is never not quite right for the break. It’s surfing’s version of shooting fish in a barrel—a strange, athletic fever dream and a convincing way to scratch the surfing itch when the nearest ocean is more than 300 miles away.
Cole Novak is an award-winning writer with a passion for highlighting local figures, small businesses, and nonprofits. Born and raised in San Diego, Cole is passionate about photography, surfing, art, the local food scene, and the great outdoors.
A group of teenagers is taking selfies outside of Saguaro Coffee in downtown Indio, California. One adjusts her sunglasses on her nose and holds up her spiced pear matcha latte, and I can picture the shot: This smiling young woman in the foreground, largely unnecessary cardigan (it’s a textbook-perfect 76 degrees) laid just so over her shoulders; the green expanse of a community park in the background. Makers’ market booths dot the grass, with the angular new public library (opened in October 2025) beyond.
In other words, downtown Indio is a cool neighborhood for cool young people.
It wasn’t always so. Though I grew up minutes away, I seldom visited this place, except to buy my school uniforms at Yellow Mart—a cluttered sort of “general store” with firearms behind the counter and mechanic coveralls on offer in the back—and attend rehearsals at a warehouse-like community theater then surrounded by empty storefronts.
Courtesy of Rosemary HiFi
Yellow Mart and the theater have endured, and while unused buildings still dot the area, those teenagers can now make a loop between businesses that will look great on their Instagram stories: a few bustling cafés; Urban Donkey vintage store; Gabino’s, a Guy Fieri–approved spot for savory crepes. At night, locals flock to Rosemary HiFi, a listening lounge and wine bar owned by Adrian Romero, a Coachella Valley–raised kid whose first business, Hermano, was a florist’s shop turned if-you-know-you-know apparel brand. In glass windows, each storefront hangs posters promoting other local businesses and events. One beckons visitors to Field Day, Rosemary HiFi’s free, outdoor gathering of vendors, DJs, chefs, wine and beer makers, and activations.
“We’re continuing to grow at a higher pace than everybody else [in the valley],” says former Indio mayor Glenn Miller (late last year, he passed the head honcho role to Elaine Holmes, a requirement of the city’s rotating, one-year mayoral terms for all city council members). He and I are sitting in the recently opened downtown location of Everbloom Coffee, owned by Indio hometowners Efrain Mercado and Matthew Ortega. Their first outpost, off the nearby Highway 111, was sunny but cramped, with zero indoor tables and terrible parking. People came anyway, and now they have this 2,800-square-foot space busy with patrons working and chatting. The city of Indio helped make it happen.
“When land becomes available [in downtown], we purchase it,” Miller explains. The city council put a program in place to help entrepreneurs like Mercado and Ortega become tenants in city-held properties. “They have to come in with a full-fledged business plan and a proposition for tenant improvements. Then we say, ‘We’ll give you’—for example—‘a dollar per square foot to make those improvements.’ We’re keeping rents low, being partners with business owners, and then also investing back into the space, because we actually own it.”
The program’s capital comes out of Indio’s $141 million annual general fund. A one-cent city sales tax brings in another $18 to $20 million a year, funding one-time projects like Center Stage, an outdoor venue in the center of downtown. “That’s really our focal point,” Miller says. Honing in on entertainment makes perfect sense in Indio, considering it’s home to some of the most iconic music fests in the world, Coachella Festival among them.
But so far the stage—opened in April 2024—has taken some time to get off the ground, mostly hosting occasional community events and classic rock cover bands.
Miller has bigger dreams for the venue. “We’re going to use it for nonprofits to have events there,” he says. “We’re going to have acoustic guitar performances, yoga, other things.”
The city also hopes to bring in affordable housing, boutique hotels, and a train stop connecting Indio to the rest of the valley (like the town of Coachella to the east and the fairly orderly line of other desert cities—La Quinta, Indian Wells, Palm Desert, Rancho Mirage, Cathedral City, Palm Springs—stretching to the west) and beyond, accommodating the city’s growing number of tourists and transplants.
Courtesy Visit Greater Palm Springs
Among them is Nicole Massoth, who runs a downtown marketplace simply called The Place. At a staggering 15,000 square feet, The Place, opened last August, is a living catalog of local creative entrepreneurship. More than 100 small businesses have displays inside, many immersive enough to feel like their own tiny stores within the concrete-floored space. In a mini ’70s-style living room, you can sniff the candles of Mijo Co.—a husband-and-husband team who make scents inspired by the tangerines their mothers used to pack in their school lunches and the aroma of fresh-cut grass that emanated from family members who worked as gardeners.
Amelia Rodriguez is a writer and journalist and winner of the San Diego Press Club's 2023 Rising Star Award and 2024 Best of Show Award, she’s also covered music, food, arts and culture, fashion, and design for Rolling Stone, Palm Springs Life, and other national and regional publications. After work, you can find her hunting down San Diego’s best pastries and maintaining her five-year Duolingo streak.
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