I chase beaches like some folks chase coffee shops. Sand in my shoes, sunscreen in my tote, and a salty grin—yep, that’s me. I’m picky, too. I want water that lets me see my toes, sand that feels nice, and a spot to breathe. Food nearby helps. Shade helps. A good sunset seals it.
If you’re hunting for more dreamy coastlines and honest travel breakdowns, my go-to resource is 5StarShare. I even rolled up my memories into a bigger guide—The Best Beaches I’ve Actually Stepped On—for anyone mapping a sandy bucket list.
You know what? Each beach below gave me a clear moment. A “this is it” breath. I still carry those moments, along with a few shells in my old daypack.
How I judge a beach (super simple)
- Water color and calm
- Sand feel (powder, pebbles, or something cool in between)
- Crowd vibe and noise
- Food or snacks nearby
- Easy swim or just a photo stop
And yes, I always bring reef-safe sunscreen (I use Sun Bum or Supergoop Play), a Cressi mask, and a thin Turkish towel that dries fast. Learned that the hard way.
Need a cheat sheet on the very best reef-safe formulas? I swear by this list of top-rated options when I'm re-stocking my toiletry bag.
Grace Bay, Turks and Caicos — Soft as powdered sugar
I ran here at sunrise and the water looked like baby blue glass. No panic waves. I floated for so long my fingers wrinkled. A stingray slid by once, slow and calm, like a quiet bus. I grabbed conch fritters from a tiny stand after. Was it pricey? A bit. Worth it? Yep.
Whitehaven Beach, Australia — The sand squeaks
The sand is so white it looks fake, and it squeaks under your feet. From the boat, that swirl of shallow water at Hill Inlet looks like a painting. I rubbed the sand on my ring and it shined up—locals told me the sand is very fine. Bring a hat. The sun shows no mercy.
Baía do Sancho, Brazil — The climb pays off
You slip through steep steps in a cliff. It feels wild. Then you see it. Green hills, bright water, turtles in the cove. The waves can thump a bit, so I watched the sets and went in slow. After, I ate an açaí bowl and sat quiet. My legs were jelly, but my brain was light.
Lanikai, Oahu — Sunrise and calm knees
Pink sky. Two little islands off the coast. I paddled a yellow kayak past them and felt like a speck in a nice way. The water is gentle here. Parking is tricky, so I went early, then grabbed shave ice. My shoulders got a sweet rest day.
Anse Source d’Argent, Seychelles — Stone giants and warm tea water
You bike there, pass palms, and then bam—huge granite rocks, soft light, shallow water as warm as tea. It can be busy with cameras in the afternoon. I still found quiet pockets by the boulders. I ate fresh mango and watched tiny fish cut lines in the clear.
Flamenco Beach, Culebra, Puerto Rico — Big blue, big smile
A wide bay, bright water, and a little rusted tank at one end that kids climb on. I snorkeled near the reef and saw a parrotfish chew coral like chips. Food kiosks sit near the sand, so lunch is easy. The vibe says, “Stay longer.” So I did.
Pink Sands Beach, Bahamas — A soft blush at sunset
It’s not neon pink. It’s a pale blush, and it glows more when the sun gets low. I walked barefoot for ages. The sand felt silky and stuck to my ankles like sugar dust. It’s a fancy island, so I brought snacks to save cash. No shame in that.
Navagio (Shipwreck), Zakynthos, Greece — Best from above
The beach has a wreck and wild-blue water, but it gets crowded. The cliff view? That’s the postcard. I went early, stayed behind the rail, and ate a gyro after. If you go by boat, bring water shoes—pebbles bite a bit.
Reynisfjara, Iceland — Black sand, no swimming
This is not a swim spot. The waves hit hard and fast. But the black sand and tall basalt stacks felt like a movie set. I wore a puffy jacket, held hot coffee in the car after, and loved it anyway. While you’re this far north, it’s also prime territory for sky shows—here’s my cheat sheet on the best time to see the northern lights if you want midnight color with your black-sand drama. A beach can be a mood, not just a swim.
Nacpan Beach, Palawan, Philippines — Long, simple, golden
A quiet, long stretch with pale waves and a few huts for mango shakes. I rode a motorbike there, slow on bumpy road, and watched kids kick a ball in bare feet. I swam, then napped under a palm. That’s it. That’s the magic.
Zlatni Rat, Brač, Croatia — A point that shifts with wind
A horn of tiny pebbles sticks out into clear water. The shape moves a little with the wind and current. I brought water shoes and felt clever. One side had small chop, the other side stayed calm. Windsurfers zipped by like they owned the place.
Matira Beach, Bora Bora — Free, public, and golden at dusk
I thought Bora Bora was only for honeymoon folks. Surprise—Matira is open to all. Shallow, clear water; a slow sunset that goes gold, then peach. I fed myself on snacks from the store and sat on a low wall with sandy feet. Simple, sweet.
Little surprises that still count
- Hyams Beach, Australia: The sand is crazy white. Wear shades.
- Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman: Smooth entry, gentle waves. Great for kids.
- Tulum, Mexico: Pretty, but check seaweed season. Some days it stacks up.
- Camps Bay, South Africa: Cold water, big view. I stayed on the sand and didn’t feel bad about it.
What I always pack (and actually use)
- Reef-safe sunscreen: Sun Bum or Supergoop Play
- Mask and snorkel: Cressi set that fits my small face
- Turkish towel: light and dries fast
- Mesh bag: a $10 one that shakes out sand
- Water bottle: my beat-up Hydro Flask
- Tiny speaker: JBL Clip, low volume, respectful
Choosing the right lotion isn't just about your skin—it's a small step toward protecting the underwater world you flew so far to see. If you need a fast refresher on why standard sunscreens can harm coral and how mineral blends help, skim this guide to sunscreen and coral reefs.
When to go matters (a lot)
I like shoulder months—less crowd, fair weather. Mornings are calmer for water and light. In parts of the Caribbean, seaweed can pile up in spring and summer, so I check local updates. If wind picks up after lunch, I swim before noon and nap after. Not a hard rule—just how my day often goes.
When the light fades and the beach crowd swaps flip-flops for dinner plans, I like to unwind with a glass of something smooth; my late-night quest for bottles is in Chasing the Best Pinot Noir if you’re thirsty for pairings.
Sometimes, though, I’m traveling solo and feel like sharing that sunset with someone who gets the “pack light, live lighter” vibe. For beach-hoppers who want straightforward, no-strings companionship, the casual-dating hub FuckBuddies connects you with nearby adults on the same page, so you can spend less time scrolling and more time chasing the next perfect wave together.
If your itinerary ever swings you through the U.K.—say a quick detour for a pint beneath Oxford’s dreaming spires before your next coastal hop—check the local classifieds on Backpage Oxford to browse real-time meet-ups posted by residents and fellow travelers, making it easy to snag a spontaneous dinner date or walking-tour buddy without burning hours on standard dating apps.
So, which beach wins?
That’s the trick. It depends on you. Want calm and soft? Grace Bay. Want a “wow” photo and a short hike? Whitehaven. Want a wild edge? Reynisfjara. Want a long, quiet walk where time slides off your back? Nacpan.
I still find sand in my bags months later. It makes me smile. It means I was there. It means I’ll go again.
