There are road trips you take because you feel restless, and then there are the ones you take because the landscape insists on it. Southern California tends to demand the second kind. The light changes every thirty miles. The air behaves differently. The entire region feels engineered for motion. On this trip, I followed a two-stop itinerary that felt almost too perfectly calibrated: Korakia Pensione in Palm Springs and Hotel Joaquin in Laguna Beach. Both belong to Auric Road, a collection that favors charm over choreography and delivers hospitality with a quiet confidence that never feels contrived.
Korakia Pensione: Palm Springs' Most Transportative Hideaway
Driving into Palm Springs always feels like entering a set piece. Mountains standing at attention. Pools glinting in the sun. That slight shimmer of heat that makes everything look more flattering. Korakia Pensione sits tucked at the foot of the San Jacinto range, half-hidden behind heavy Moroccan doors and a façade that looks imported from some sun-washed Mediterranean village with a very relaxed attitude about time.
Inside the gates, the world shifts. Paths weave through citrus trees and bougainvillea, the air smells faintly of warm stone, and the soundtrack is a quiet mixture of fountains and the occasional dove. My room opened to a private patio where mornings stretched into something both indulgent and oddly productive. I would drink coffee, stare at the mountains, and convince myself that this counted as a form of self-care.
Korakia understands restraint. No gimmicks. No elaborate programming. Just the essentials, executed with confidence. By afternoon, the pool becomes a kind of desert salon. A novelist editing pages. A couple arguing softly about sunscreen. A man wearing a linen shirt that almost certainly came from a suitcase packed more thoughtfully than mine. Everyone looks like they wandered in from a different decade, which is part of the charm.
Night at Korakia arrives slowly. Lanterns flicker. The sky slips into deep indigo. The temperature drops just enough to remind you that you are, in fact, in a desert. I sat near the fire pit one evening and realized I had scrolled my phone exactly zero times that day. Korakia does not ask for your attention. It simply earns it.
Leaving Palm Springs is its own ritual. A final hit of heat, a long stretch of freeway lined with wind turbines, and then the slow transition toward something softer. The landscape changes hue like it’s moving through filters. Golds. Sages. Then the faintest marine grey as the air cools and the ocean starts announcing itself. This is the part of Southern California that feels almost cinematic. You are not traveling far, but you are traveling through moods.
Hotel Joaquin: A Modern Classic on The Coast
Laguna Beach appears as a series of curves and cliffside glimpses, the kind of coastline that looks fully aware of its own beauty. Hotel Joaquin sits above Shaw’s Cove like a quiet observer. Minimalist. Warm. A little seductive. It feels like a mid-century beach house owned by a friend who works in design and has never made a bad aesthetic decision.
My room was sunlit and minimal in the best way. Pale wood. Linen everything. My own vinyl player, and the Pacific Ocean humming in the background. Within an hour, I felt myself recalibrating. Mornings were for diving into the cove before the beach filled with locals. Afternoons unfolded at the pool and the guests-only private bar, which has perfected the art of looking effortless while actually being incredibly considered. Even the stool placement feels intentional.
Joaquin’s team strikes that rare balance of familiarity and distance. Present when you need them, letting you drift when you don’t. Mornings start with a bottle of freshly brewed coffee brought to your door. Evenings end with a walk down to the beach or a cocktail by the fire with views that soften every thought you brought with you from the desert. Hotel Joaquin is not trying to be trendy. It’s trying to be timeless. And in Southern California, that restraint feels surprisingly fresh.
The Auric Road Effect
What ties these two properties together is a philosophy that feels almost radical in an age of algorithmic hospitality. Auric Road seems to understand that great travel depends on atmosphere. Korakia gives you space to disappear into the desert. Joaquin offers a coastal landing where everything feels edited but never staged. Together, they create a road trip that highlights the dualities of Southern California: introspection and ease, heat and salt air, ritual and spontaneity.
I ended the drive feeling lighter, as if the desert had carved out its space and the ocean had filled it back in. There are flashier ways to travel through California, but none as quietly luxurious as moving from Korakia to Joaquin. This is the version that feels authentic, intentional, and undeniably chic.
