Cushy on the Central Coast

AS much as I love Los Angeles and its environs, I do not understand why anyone seeking a beach getaway comes to Southern California when the Central Coast begins less than an hour away.

From Ventura to Santa Cruz, wide, sandy beaches give way to breathtaking cliffs, secluded coves curve into the craggy embrace of boulders and promontories, and the receding tide reveals a shining moonscape of tide pools and fields of seaweed.

Our family travels up the coast several times a year, usually staying in a small hotel in Cayucos. But after a particularly difficult spring, we decided to splurge and booked a room at the Dolphin Bay Hotel & Residences in Shell Beach. At the brand-new high-end resort, we were promised spacious and luxurious rooms, flat-screen TVs, a spa and gym, an infinity pool and a gourmet restaurant, all overlooking the crashing Pacific. It sounded like a place where we could hunker down and relax.

In its previous incarnation, the Dolphin Bay Hotel was condos, and it shows a bit. Three buildings loom around the pool and patio, and the lobby, which is small. However, when we were shown to our room by an affable bellman named Steve -- the staff, to a person, was friendly and accommodating -- I began to see the benefits of a condo conversion. Our room was indeed a suite, with the master bedroom down a short hallway that also revealed a walk-in closet and a washing machine. The living room and dining area were as big as those in a respectable apartment, and the kitchen had more counter space than we do at home. Finally, a hotel room big enough for my crazy family.

Not that we settled in. After hours in the car, Danny, 8, and Fiona, 6, wanted to go play. Although, of course, one wanted the beach and the other the pool. We settled on soccer on the wide lawn between the restaurant patio and the path that runs along the bluffs.

The Dolphin Bay stands on the cliffs overlooking a series of the coves for which Shell Beach is famous. Flanked by the Spyglass Inn and the Cliffs Resort, it is clearly hoping to be the crown jewel in a diadem of higher-end hotels.

A staircase beside the Cliffs leads down to the beach. As the light began to wane, we went for a pre-dinner walk; although the tide was coming in, a few tide pools were still visible, with starfish and crabs and sea anemones aplenty. Surfers were braving the waves while skim-boarders slid along the water where the waves broke. Although the temperature had hit 95 in Shell Beach that day, the breeze off the ocean was as cool as the inside of a sea cave.

I had figured on room service for dinner because the kids were still too antsy from the drive to sit in the Lido, the hotel’s very nice restaurant. Then we realized there was no room service. Incredible. I have schlepped groceries on virtually every vacation, but this time I had packed only snacks.

I took the kids to the pool while my husband, Richard, explored our dining options. I cannot say enough about the pool. It was heated to a perfect 80 degrees, treated with saline rather than chlorine. Richard came back with good news: Though there was no room service, the staff was happy to deliver an order from the restaurant.

Our dinner, delivered in a timely fashion, was delicious if pricey. Three of us got hamburgers, among the best I’d ever tasted; Richard had a seafood empanada that was so good he almost forgot to offer me a bite. The kids’ meals came with ice cream; we were forced to make do with profiteroles and a dense chocolate-hazelnut cake. Life at the Dolphin Bay was good.

Until, I’m afraid, the next morning. The kids were asleep on the very comfortable pull-out couch while we snoozed, in king-size, high-thread-count splendor. Then, at 6 a.m., the garbage trucks arrived. Richard and I were able to groan and go back to sleep. Not so our children, who now were wide awake and ready for action. For once in their lives, the promise of TV was not enough. Because They Were Hungry.

Again cursing myself for not packing groceries -- I rarely go anywhere without at least a box of cereal -- we grumbled, fought, got dressed, fought some more, yelled at one another for fighting and debated the wisdom of going into town for breakfast. But no one wanted to go into town, so down we trooped to the Lido Restaurant just as it was opening at 7 a.m., passing a guest in the lobby who was yelling at the front desk staff because she too had been awakened by the garbage trucks, and sat our grouchy selves down in the sun.

A few plates of eggs and a continental breakfast plate later, we were almost $70 poorer but all felt better. (If I’d had my wits about me, we would have just walked down to the Spyglass restaurant, where short stacks go for $6.)

The day stretched before us, wide and cool and lovely, and we filled it with walks on the beach -- not only tide pools galore but also caves, real caves, with curtains of seaweed and eerie side passages -- hours in the pool and a brief sojourn to the small, well-equipped gym.

Toward the end of the day, we tried to go into Pismo Beach, but there was a car show in town, and both the freeway and the service road were backed up for miles. Not about to waste our precious weekend in traffic, we headed north instead, checking out bustling Avila Beach and stopping at Avila Valley Barn for ice cream, fruit and some of the best strawberry-rhubarb pie ever invented.

The kids petted the animals and fed the goats, but we missed the last wagon ride. A tractor-pulled flat-bed trailer drives guests out to fields for berry picking, which sounded so lovely we promised we’d come back.

We ordered pizza from Del’s, the oldest Italian restaurant in San Luis Obispo County, and I went to pick it up while Richard took the kids, yet again, to the pool. The pool’s allure was so strong that the pizza was cold long before the kids got out -- and even then we went back after sundown to see it lighted up.

Jet fountains arced from either side, glowing purple; the kids wanted to get back in, but it was locked. Instead, we watched another movie and slept the sleep of the sunburned and the just -- because there were no garbage trucks on Sunday.

I had run to the market the previous day, so we had breakfast supplies the next morning. Another long walk on the beach, another few glorious hours in the pool and it was time to go. I asked for late checkout and they gave us until 1 p.m.; at 12:50 p.m., the front desk called to ask if we needed help with our luggage. After saying goodbye to all the friendly bellmen, we headed back to Avila Valley Barn, where we took the hay ride out to the fields, picked a slew of berries in the high Central Coast sun, fed a few more goats, ate some more ice cream and hit the road.

It took us an hour and a half to reach the outskirts of Santa Barbara and an additional hour before we finally bailed off the highway for a respite at that city’s Chase Palm Park. The kids rode the carousel while we prayed for a miracle that would cause the traffic to die down. Pretending that it had, we got on the road and crawled our way home.

Relaxation, it seems, always comes at a price.

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Along the bluffs

GETTING THERE:

From Los Angeles, it’s 195 miles to Shell Beach, going north on U.S. 101.

WHERE TO STAY:

Dolphin Bay Hotel & Residences, 2727 Shell Beach Road; (800) 516-0112, www.thedolphinbay.com. One- and two-bedroom suites $405-$1,200.

Cliffs Resort, 2757 Shell Beach Road; (800) 826-7827, www.cliffsresort.com. Recently renovated resort with 165 rooms and suites, $179-$399.

Spyglass Inn, 2505 Spyglass Drive; (800) 824-2612, www.spyglassinn.com. Slightly smaller hotel with 82 rooms, $199-$349.

WHERE TO EAT:

Lido Restaurant, Dolphin Bay Hotel. Wine country cuisine with an emphasis on seafood. Breakfast entrees $10-$22. Dinner entrees $10 (children’s menu) to $40.

Del’s, 401 Shell Beach Road; (805) 773-4438. Family-friendly Italian restaurant with pizzas ($10-$24) and entrees $13-$16.

WHAT TO DO:

Avila Valley Barn, 560 Avila Valley Drive, San Luis Obispo; (805) 595-2810, www.avilavalleybarn.com. Open 9 a.m.-6 p.m. daily, May to December.

-- Mary McNamara