San Luis Obispo: The Heartwarming Charm of California’s Central Coast

Remember when you went off to college and met a friend for life? That’s how I feel about San Luis Obispo, an open-armed town in Central California that everybody calls SLO. Just off Highway 1, SLO is the home of California Polytechnic State University, or Cal Poly. The gregarious bartender in Bulls, a dimly lit, cowboy-themed bar in the center of town, is a recent Cal Poly alum. Marina stayed after graduation and became a manager. “It’s the kind of place you don’t want to leave,” she told me and my wife. “And if you move away, most people come back, at least to visit.”

Summer is the tourist season, Marina explained, and after September, college kids mostly replace curious visitors like me. There’s really no big-ticket draw in SLO. The town has a historic Spanish mission, an abundance of excellent restaurants, and wine country is nearby. SLO is absent a theme park, and there’s no super-high-end resort or iconic local attraction urging travelers to declare, “I’ve got to see that!”  

Still, you can’t help but bond with SLO. The town has an easygoing charm. SLO isn’t your crazy friend who threw raging keggers. It’s not necessarily the popular kid, the captain of the soccer team, nor the class clown who did a hilarious impression of your English Lit professor. SLO is the classmate who consoled you when a girl broke your heart. SLO never lies to you, returns all your texts, and never forgets your birthday. 

The SLO experience began with a Pacific Surfliner Amtrak ride from San Diego’s Santa Fe Depot. Who knew there was a 4am departure? It gets you to SLO just past noon. After a nap that ended in Los Angeles, I woke up for a gorgeous journey. In much of Central California, north of Santa Barbara, the train tracks are the only transportation route that hugs the Pacific Ocean.

We immediately made friends with the staff at 17-room Petit Soleil, a cozy bed-and-breakfast, walkable to downtown SLO. The B&B, whose front desk doubles as a bar, offers a house-made breakfast daily (mmm, the quiche!), and nightly wine gatherings in a Parisian-style courtyard. We couldn’t do anything to perturb the staff — not when we broke a wine glass in the room, called down for instructions on how to use the air conditioner (and the TV), or asked to store restaurant leftovers in their kitchen fridge. Requests were met with Fantasy Island smiles.

For three days, my wife and I walked to and through the heart of town. We strolled past the 1940s-era Fremont theater, patronized Moondoggies surf shop, and browsed Boo Boo Records. Rolling Stone named Boo Boo one of the best record stores in the country. When you’re surrounded by classic album covers, band t-shirts, and Beatles puppets, a clerk blasting vinyl is a reminder that while ch-ch-ch-changes are inevitable, David Bowie tunes are a constant.

It’s possible you’ve heard of SLO’s Bubble Gum Alley. Over the years, it became a trend to slap your used gum on the walls of this alley. Yes, check it out, take a selfie, but no need to linger. The Mission San Luis Obispo Tolusa is abundantly  more impressive. Spaniards built the mission in 1772, and it became the center of town. Take a solemn walk through the rustic Mission Plaza and peek into the historical working parish church.

We had superb dining experiences. Lure Fish House is one of the newer spots. We reeled in Grassy Point oysters, Hamachi Crudo, and White Pacific Sea Bass. I had clam chowder and a shrimp louie salad topped with a huge portion of calamari (the dish I doggie bagged back to the Petit Soleil).

Sister restaurants Luna Red and Novo served a one-two punch for lunch and dinner. Tacos are the calling card at Luna Red, but don’t overlook the Thai Curry Scallops. My wife and I have never had such a problem narrowing down excellent menu choices. Our table became filled with a global collection of Indian-spiced potato samosas, melt-in-your-mouth calamari, spicy and creamy coconut milk curry with tofu, and a salmon bisque chock-full of salmon. Novo’s uber-charming outdoor back dining deck rises above a quaint creek and is shaded by a romance novel-esque oak tree.

Family-owned and Spanish-styled La Lomita Winery is a short drive from downtown. Within the Edna Valley, it’s nestled below the first of the Seven Sisters Morros. A morro, fascinatingly, is an extinct volcano. The VanderHorst family creates estate and single-vineyard boutique wines with distinct bouquets. Inside a cute new hospitality room, we sampled everything from a rosé of syrah with notes of lemon to a grenache that led with alpine strawberries. The visit felt like a neighborly drop-in with La Lomita Wines Director Anneke Vander Horst Hickman.

Cambria Bicycle Outfitters is a few blocks from Petit Soleil. We took e-bikes out for an invigorating (pedal-assisted) ride. One stop: High Street Deli, a corner store in a residential neighborhood. It’s been catering to locals since 1927, when High Street was still a dirt road. High Street’s “world-famous sandos” are heaping high.

Next: The Madonna Inn, which probably counts as a high-profile attraction. A couple miles from downtown SLO, a regular beat of tourists come to take a gander at this kitschy, hot-pink hotel. It’s like Frank Lloyd Wright and RuPaul co-designed an American Girl Doll experience. We grabbed seats at the copper-topped restaurant bar and ordered two slices of cake. Slices? We’d been warned to split one piece. Pink Champagne and Toffee Crunch sounded equally delish, though. Oops. We barely made a dent.

On our last night in SLO, we cruised the evening Farmer’s Market. The Los Angeles Times dubbed it a Top 10 California Experience. It’s six blocks of Higuera Street and seemed to draw half the town for fresh produce, tri-tip sandwiches, and indigenous camaraderie.

Finally, we found Nightcap bar in the Grenada Hotel. Nightcap is long and narrow with a vibe lit by candles inlaid in a brick wall. We ordered espresso martinis. The drinks turned heads — including off-duty bartender Isaiah, who was drinking with his convivial girlfriend. Friendly banter induced a second round of drinks. I ordered the bourbon-based “Death Technique,” recommended by our new acquaintances. Smooth. It was the perfect ending in a town that befriended us at every turn. Yes, of course, we’ll keep in touch.