Atlantic City

The beach is the reason Atlantic City exists. A broad, flat strip of pale sand runs the length of Absecon Island under the Boardwalk, and access to it is free, so in summer it fills with umbrellas, lifeguard stands and families walking down from the casino towers. Ventnor, Margate and Longport carry the same beach south into quieter residential stretches, and Brigantine, just north across the inlet, feels more local.

The sea is the open Atlantic: by late July and August it reaches about 22-24°C, warm enough for long swims, though surf and rip currents mean swimming between the flags. The season is short. Before mid-June and after September the water turns cold and beach life largely stops.

Eating here splits into two worlds. Inside the casino resorts are steakhouses, seafood rooms, Asian dining and buffets, polished but much the same as in any American gambling town. Outside them is older Atlantic City: the Italian-American restaurants of Ducktown, oversized submarine sandwiches on soft local rolls, boardwalk pizza and fried seafood, and the saltwater taffy and fudge the Boardwalk has sold for over a century.

The back bays add crab shacks and dockside seafood in Gardner's Basin and down the island in Margate and Ventnor. It is satisfying rather than memorable, and food alone rarely brings anyone here.

Atlantic City's heritage is that of the American seaside resort itself. The Boardwalk, first laid in 1870, is the original of its kind, and the street names that inspired the Monopoly board are all here. Boardwalk Hall, the great Art Deco convention hall of 1929, holds the largest pipe organ in the world, and the Absecon Lighthouse can be climbed for views over the island.

Just down the coast in Margate stands Lucy the Elephant, a six-storey wooden elephant from 1881. Beyond these, much of the grand hotel architecture has been replaced by casino towers, and museums are small local affairs. A day covers it.

Night life revolves around the casinos, which never close: gaming floors, lounges and bars stay open through the night, and the larger resorts run nightclubs and pool parties on summer weekends that draw crowds down from Philadelphia and New York. Beach bars along the sand add an easy outdoor option in warm months.

Outside the resorts there is little of a street-level bar district, and the blocks between them can feel empty and uneasy after dark. Midweek and in winter the energy drops sharply, so the experience depends heavily on when you come.

The landscape is low and flat: barrier island, dunes, salt marsh and wide back bays. Its best natural asset is the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge, a short drive north, where a wildlife loop crosses marshes busy with herons, egrets and migrating shorebirds. The bays suit kayaking, crabbing and fishing charters, and the Boardwalk makes a long, level route for an early bike ride.

Inland, the Pine Barrens offer sandy forest trails and quiet rivers for canoeing within about an hour. There are no hills or striking scenery, and nature here is a pleasant extra rather than a draw.

The best day out is Philadelphia, about an hour and a half by train or car, with Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell and a big-city museum scene. In the other direction, Cape May, about an hour south, is one of the best-preserved Victorian seaside towns in the country, with gingerbread houses, gas lamps and a lighthouse.

Closer at hand are the boardwalk towns of Ocean City and Wildwood, the restored colonial village of Smithville, the historic ironworks village of Batsto in the Pine Barrens, and a handful of South Jersey wineries around Egg Harbor. New York sits beyond comfortable day-trip range.

With children the beach does most of the work: wide, free sand with lifeguards all summer. The Steel Pier has fairground rides over the ocean, there is a small aquarium at Gardner's Basin, and Lucy the Elephant is a favourite climb. The city is otherwise built for adults, with casino floors closed to under-21s and some rundown blocks away from the Boardwalk.

Families often do better staying a little further along the shore. Ocean City, a short drive south, is a dry town with a boardwalk full of rides, arcades and ice cream, and Wildwood's amusement piers are within an hour.

The core of the visit is linear and simple. The Boardwalk runs for miles past the casinos and beach, easy to walk or cover in a rolling chair, and small jitney buses shuttle up and down Pacific Avenue around the clock. A rail line and regional buses connect the city with Philadelphia and New York.

Beyond the island, things change: the wildlife refuge, the Pine Barrens, Cape May and the neighbouring shore towns are really reached by car. The streets between the Boardwalk and the outskirts are not pleasant to walk, particularly at night.

Shopping is practical rather than stylish. An open-air outlet district near the Boardwalk gathers the usual American brand stores, and the casinos hold arcades of fashion and gift shops. The Boardwalk itself sells T-shirts, beachwear and souvenirs, plus boxes of saltwater taffy and fudge, the one truly local thing to carry home. There are no boutique quarters, design shops or markets of note.

Costs swing with the calendar. Midweek and outside summer, casino hotels discount rooms heavily to fill them, and a stay can be surprisingly inexpensive; on summer weekends, long weekends and festive dates, rates climb steeply. The beach and Boardwalk are free, as is much of the entertainment around the casino floors.

Eating out follows American prices, with resort dining rooms on the expensive side and subs, pizza and boardwalk food cheap. Resort fees, parking and tipping add up, so a weekend in July and a Tuesday in November feel like different destinations.

Live entertainment here means headliners. The casino resorts run arenas and showrooms that host touring pop and rock acts, comedians and tribute shows, and Boardwalk Hall stages big concerts, boxing and the occasional organ recital on its historic instrument. Summer adds free beach concerts and fireworks.

There is no resident opera company, orchestra or theatre district, and little in the way of small jazz or indie venues. Visitors check the arena calendars and build a weekend around a particular show.

Wellness comes in the form of resort spas: several of the casino hotels have sizeable spas with treatments, saunas and indoor pools, useful for a pampering afternoon. There is no bathing tradition of its own, and the casinos' flashing, sleepless atmosphere is hardly restful.

The calmest side of the city appears out of season, when the Boardwalk empties and a morning walk by the grey winter sea can be genuinely peaceful.