If you love (literally) breathtaking natural beauty and delicious cuisine, you might want to plan a trip in the fall or spring to Santa Fe, one of the oldest cities in the United States. (It’s beaten only by St. Augustine, Florida and tied with Jamestown, Virginia, which was founded in 1607.) Located about an hour’s drive northeast of Albuquerque, New Mexico’s state capital sits in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. A mix of desert and mountain terrain, plus relative proximity to hot springs and other roadtrip destinations like Taos and Los Alamos, make the city an excellent starting point for visiting the Land of Enchantment.
I took a recent press trip through the city’s tourism board to attend the Santa Fe Wine and Chile Fiesta. The annual celebration of wine and New Mexico’s famous hatch chiles spans several days and draws wineries from all over the American West and beyond, but that’s not even close to being on the list of reasons I’d tell you to visit the City Different. Last year, American Express Travel named it one of the top alternative destinations to visit in 2024, positioning Santa Fe as an alternative to Sedona, Arizona with a “similar blend of American Southwest culture, history and natural beauty.”
While I’ve never been to Sedona, I can tell you that Santa Fe offers all three of those things (minus Arizona’s over-Instagrammed red rocks). The city’s thriving collection of art galleries and museums, relatively walkable and rideshare-friendly downtown area and small dining scene make it an enjoyable destination for a long weekend, at least in the more temperate months. Winters bring snowfall and the summers are brutal, plus there’s the intermittent storms that accompany monsoon season (which usually starts in early summer and ends in the fall), but the generally mild, sunny weather was perfect during my three-day trip in late September. Each day I was there, there were short bouts of rainfall, but even without an umbrella I didn’t feel particularly drenched.
There is one major caveat to visiting Santa Fe, however. The city is located approximately 7,200 feet above sea level—topping even the famously mile-high Denver—which means if you’re not used to the lack of oxygen, you’re more likely to feel tired or experience headaches and nausea (all symptoms of altitude sickness), particularly if you participate in any kind of strenuous physical activity. And yes, that means you will get drunk faster with a higher likelihood of a bad hangover. I experienced both of these things firsthand at the Wine and Chile Fiesta, though my actual bout of altitude sickness didn’t begin until after I’d flown back home to Los Angeles.
To get to Santa Fe, I first flew into Albuquerque on a Friday afternoon, taking a one-hour car ride via shuttle service. While L.A. isn’t exactly known for cloudy days or high humidity, the first thing I noticed was the near-blinding sunlight and dry mountain air. My room at the Eldorado Hotel wasn’t ready yet, so I put on my sunglasses and walked over to one of the city’s most beloved New Mexican restaurants, Tia Sophia’s. Naturally, I ordered an enchilada and a taco combo plate, Christmas-style—which is what New Mexicans call the blend of red and green chile sauce. My entrée came with a warm sopapilla, another New Mexican specialty. The square of wheat-based puffy dough is similar to Native American fry bread.
Afterwards, I walked through the Plaza, perusing the various high-end shops selling turquoise and opal jewelry, Western attire and other items that seemed cute in the context of my surroundings, but would probably read as “dowdy aunt living in the desert” back home in Los Angeles. A childhood friend of mine was driving in from Los Alamos, so I went back to the hotel to wait for her. We met up and she took me on a semi-guided walk through more of downtown Santa Fe, including the Railway, where the city’s 30-and-under crowd tends to congregate.
In order to catch one of Santa Fe’s famous sunsets, we embarked on the short uphill walk through some ritzy neighborhoods to the Old Cross of the Martyrs, a monument to the Spaniards killed in the Pueblo Revolt of 1680. The 17th-century uprising, which drove the Spanish colonists out of Santa Fe for 12 years, is the only example of successful Indigenous uprising against European settlers in North America. (There is indeed a newer Cross of the Martyrs in a nearby park that bears its name sans “old.”)
For dinner, I’d booked a table at Sazón, one of the city’s best examples of fine dining. The restaurant serves an upscale, Southwestern-inspired take on traditional Mexican cuisine, and is one of the most difficult reservations on a weekend evening. (In fact, I’d called a week and a half prior to score one. Spontaneous dining, this is not.) Since I’m from Los Angeles, home to the largest Oaxacan population outside of Mexico and an outstanding Mexican dining scene, I wasn’t blown away by the quality of the moles or particularly surprised by the presence of chapulines (grasshoppers) and huitlacoche (corn smut) on the menu. Nevertheless, the meal was still tasty, the service extremely warm, and I enjoyed chef Fernando Olea’s creative take on traditional Mexican chile en nogada.
While I’d considered finding a place to grab drinks, Santa Fe is a rather sleepy town, and the better downtown cocktail options are closed by 10pm. The remaining few tend to be rowdier dives, which I wasn’t interested in gambling on, so we decided to turn in early and reserve our energy for a hike. The next morning, my friend and I took her car out to the start of Picacho Peak, a four-mile round trip trek that’s part of Dale Ball Trails, the city’s closest recreation area. The short 10-minute drive to the trailhead was stunning, with yellow foliage and expanses of trees dotting the landscape. I even spotted some apple trees lush with fruit, which I wasn’t expecting.
The trail started out picturesque with plenty of flowers and a stream running through it, before growing steep and difficult after about three-quarters of a mile. It was at this point the altitude change finally began to register with me. I found myself out of breath on the moderately strenuous hike, which closer to sea level I would have considered a walk in the park. As we gained even more elevation, I started to wonder if I would make it to the top, but we ultimately pushed through and managed to reach the peak. The views along the way stayed approximately the same, however—so if you’re hoping for a scenic hike, you don’t necessarily need to finish the trail to take it all in.
Once we got back to the car, I went to the hotel to change for the Grand Tasting, the Santa Fe Wine and Chile Fiesta’s largest event held in Fort Marcy Park. The high-end affair was hot and crowded, and for an hour and change I stood in line solo for just a handful of wineries and food vendors. While the event offered close to a hundred different wine and food options, the overall effect was both over- and underwhelming, and not remotely enjoyable as a solo guest. (Ironically, the longest lines were mostly wineries from California. We have these at home, I thought to myself, and called my friend to pick me up.)
I was far more excited for our next stop: Kakawa Chocolate House, an organic chocolatier known for its drinking chocolate and delectable truffles that come in Southwestern flavors like prickly pear, mezcal and biscochito, an anise-scented regional shortbread cookie. The original location was only a short drive away from Fort Marcy Park, and the outstanding drinks and sweets delivered a much-needed afternoon pick-me-up. I even decided to buy some to take home despite the limited room in my carry-on suitcase.
Then, we drove over to Meow Wolf’s House of Eternal Return. Located in a former bowling alley, the immersive art exhibit was opened with the help of writer George R.R. Martin, and the Game of Thrones creator is still the installation’s landlord today. While I haven’t been to any of the four other Meow Wolf exhibits, I enjoyed walking through the trippy, multi-dimensional house. Guests can figure out the story of the bizarro surroundings through various clues, and there’s also a few arcade games and a full bar with snacks outside.
By this point, my friend and I were exhausted. We headed back to the Eldorado to rest and dip our toes into the hotel’s rooftop hot tub, which overlooks parts of downtown and offers views of forest-covered mountains. For dinner, I’d booked us a relatively late reservation at the Shed, another one of the city’s oldest, most beloved New Mexican restaurants. While locals flock to La Choza, which is owned by the same family and located in the trendier, less touristy Railway, the Shed is the only one of the two that takes reservations.
Compared to El Cholo, El Compadre and Casa Vega—the holy trinity of chips-and-salsa Mexican cuisine in L.A.—the comforting, affordable dishes served at the Shed were excellent. The restaurant doesn’t serve sopapillas, but the salsa cruda, guacamole and queso were all well-made and came with warm tortilla chips. We also tried the posole and the taco and enchilada plate with Christmas-style chile. While the atmosphere was quite touristy, given the small gift shop that’s connected to the twinkling courtyard, I’d still recommend making a reservation or a pit stop here if you find yourself in downtown Santa Fe and hungry during dinner hours. (After all, Tia Sophia’s is only open for breakfast and lunch.)
My friend drove home for the night to grab some clothes for an exciting last-minute addition to the trip: a private hot tub soak at Ten Thousand Waves, a Japanese-inspired spa and lodge with an award-winning on-site restaurant. The spa had been completely booked when I first looked into it weeks ago, but repeated calls in hopes of a last-minute cancellation eventually resulted in a 90-minute time slot at noon on Sunday, the last day of my trip.
The next morning, I packed up my things, checked out and wandered around the Plaza alone, hoping to catch some of the first Native American artisans who sell their wares in the area every weekend. Though I wasn’t super hungry, I decided to grab a (quite pricey) breakfast at Cafe Pasqual’s, a James Beard award-winning all-day restaurant. As a solo diner, I was sat immediately at the community table, but the rest of the narrow dining room was full. On the advice of the Los Angeles Times’ Bill Addison, who covered the city in his Eater days and still regularly visits Santa Fe, I ordered the huevos barbacoa, a saucy mix of slow-cooked beef cheeks, chile de arbol salsa, two eggs, corn tortillas, black beans and a sprinkle of cotija on top. At $27, it was expensive even by L.A. pricing standards, but it was also perfect.
I headed back to the Eldorado to meet up with my friend for a quick stop at Rosé All Day, one of the Santa Fe Wine and Chile Fiesta’s smaller events. It was held at Bishop’s Lodge, a beautiful luxury resort further away from downtown. We were one of the first parties to enter the event, which offered more seating on average than the Grand Tasting and less of a crowd. I was able to sample most of the food vendors and a couple of wines. As with the Grand Tasting, the clientele was overwhelmingly gray-haired—but I had a much more enjoyable time here, likely due to the fact I arrived 15 minutes early.
Though we’d originally planned to stay until the event ended, we headed back to the car for the short 10-minute commute to Ten Thousand Waves. As with the previous day, the drive was gorgeous, with fall foliage in full effect. Aside from the ristras—New Mexico’s famous strands of dried red chilies—hanging from the door, the spa’s main building looked like it had been plucked from the Japanese countryside. A staff member showed us to our private hot tub and shower suite—Ten Thousand Waves has eight different suites, each with their own unique offerings—which included a pleasant outdoor view, a small sauna and a daybed.
Two Japanese-style showers, complete with stools to squat on, offset the surprisingly roomy hot tub. After donning our swimsuits and washing ourselves (as is customary in Japanese onsen culture), we relaxed for over an hour in the warm water, occasionally turning on the jets. A constant flow circulates new water in and out of the tub, so the overall experience seemed cleaner than your standard Jacuzzi. At the end of our 90-minute session, we took some time to soak our feet in the complimentary foot bath and showered in the communal locker room, which also contained hinoki- and yuzu-scented hair and skincare products.
Though we’d originally planned to visit contemporary art space SITE Santa Fe before I headed back to Albuquerque for my flight home, we enjoyed the grounds so much we decided to have lunch at Izanami, the spa’s on-site restaurant. The minute I walked into the dining room, I knew I’d made the right decision. The tranquil, beautifully decorated space included a traditional zashiki seating area and a fun, cartoon-like squid paper lantern overhead, but our hostess ultimately sat us on the patio, which ended up being even better. The bar seating offers stunning views of the surrounding mountains.
My friend, not used to the relentless eating schedule I put myself through as a food and drink editor for Time Out, tapped out of another full meal while I deliberated what to order. Ultimately, I decided on the vegetarian bento box, spicy tuna crispy rice and a “very green” butter lettuce salad, plus a mocktail. While the izakaya-inspired fare didn’t hold a candle to any of the casual Japanese meals I’ve had in L.A., the meal was still solid and (relatively) nutritious.
Once we’d finished eating and paid the bill, my friend dropped me off at my hotel, where my driver would pick me up and take me back to Albuquerque International Airport. Within six hours, I was back home in L.A. In less than the average amount of time it takes most Angelenos to drive to San Francisco, you can travel to Santa Fe. There’s also the option of flying directly into the city’s tiny regional airport via Phoenix and skipping the approximately hour long drive from Albuquerque.
If you enjoy the relaxing desert vibes of Palm Springs and Joshua Tree, you’ll probably enjoy vacationing in Santa Fe, which offers the same slower pace of life with a Southwestern twist and, at least in the cooler months, opportunities to get outside. (There’s even relatively affordable skiing in the winter!) Just don’t expect spirited nightlife or a spate of world-class restaurants: The dining scene is decent, but not that good, and aside from a few regional inflections like sopapillas and hatch chilies, it’s not that different from what you might find across the greater Southwest.
That being said, despite a day of debilitating altitude sickness, I’m already plotting out a way to return to New Mexico—and while I’m curious about Taos and White Sands National Park, I know I’ll visit Santa Fe again on my next trip to the Land of Enchantment.