I came to Aruba expecting soft sand and clear water—and I got those. But I also found cliffs. Caves. Coral. Beaches with no names and waves that didn’t wait for permission. The island has the kind of coastline that shifts with the wind—calm on one side, wild on the other. I chased that contrast from shore to shore, each beach showing a different side of the island, and of myself.
Some days were spent stretched under the sun, toes in the shallows. Others were quieter, windier, lonelier in the best way. But every beach gave me something worth remembering. Here's what they felt like.
Best Beaches in Aruba
Andicuri Beach: For the Wind, and What It Carries
The first thing I noticed was the wind. It didn’t just blow—it pushed. Andicuri Beach was tucked between limestone cliffs on Aruba’s rugged eastern coast, and getting there meant bouncing down a rough dirt road until the ocean opened up like a breath held too long.
The sand was dark and coarse, scattered with coral and shell bits. The waves pounded the shore like a drumline, and there was no one else around—just a single kite surfer carving through the whitecaps and a pelican watching from a ledge. I sat down, pulled my hoodie tight, and thought, “If I ever need to reset, this is the beach I’ll come back to.”
There’s no food on-site, so I packed a lunch: cold grilled chicken, sliced mango, and a still-warm arepa I’d picked up earlier in Santa Cruz. The chicken was smoky and peppery, the mango sweet and stringy, and the arepa—a little crisp on the outside, soft inside—tasted faintly of butter and cornmeal. I ate it cross-legged on the sand, watching the sky shift as clouds moved fast across the sun.
Andicuri Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 30 minutes (mostly dirt roads after Ayo Rock Formations)
- Address: Andicuri Beach, northeast coast of Aruba
- Best Time to Visit: Morning or late afternoon (avoid high sun without shade)
- Vibe: Remote, rugged, introspective
- Highlights: Limestone cliffs, powerful waves, quiet isolation
- Facilities: None—no bathrooms, no shops
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open access all day
- Food Nearby: None on-site—bring food or stop in Santa Cruz
Arashi Beach: Where Locals Go to Float
Arashi felt like the beach everyone loved but didn’t brag about. Tucked near the California Lighthouse, it had that lived-in ease—the kind of place where chairs sink into sand grooves worn by years of weekends. The water was still, pale blue, and so clear that I could see tiny fish darting past my feet as I waded in.
Families clustered under umbrellas, kids floating in inflatable rings. Locals came with coolers and radios, and the whole place buzzed gently, like a Sunday afternoon without urgency. I swam past the reef line, floated on my back, and thought, “If I were from here, this would be my spot.”
Afterward, I walked up to a nearby beach shack called Eduardo’s and ordered their grilled veggie wrap. It came stuffed with warm eggplant, zucchini, and gooey cheese, pressed flat with grill marks on the outside. The wrap smelled like rosemary and smoke. I ate it on a wooden bench, salty and sun-dazed, sipping water like it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
Arashi Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 20 minutes
- Address: Arashi Beach, northwest Aruba near California Lighthouse
- Best Time to Visit: Morning for snorkeling, afternoon for mellow crowds
- Vibe: Relaxed, local, gentle
- Highlights: Calm water, reef snorkeling, sunset views
- Facilities: Palapas, restrooms, snack shack
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open all day
- Food Nearby: Eduardo’s Beach Shack (short walk up from the sand)
Baby Beach: A Curve of Calm
It looked like someone had drawn it with a pencil—Baby Beach curled in a perfect crescent, shallow and clear all the way across. The southern edge of Aruba was warm and breezy that day, and the lagoon felt like a swimming pool poured into the Caribbean.
I waded in up to my shoulders and barely moved. Fish darted past in little clusters, and the water was so still it felt like being wrapped in silk. A family nearby floated in a circle, passing snacks. A couple read paperbacks under a low palapa. I leaned back into the water and thought, “This is the kind of beach that forgives you for being tired.”
I dried off and wandered to Big Mama Grill across the street. I ordered fried plantains and grilled snapper, and both came out sizzling. The fish was flaky, buttery, and full of charred edges. The plantains were sweet with just the slightest crisp. The whole plate smelled like citrus and coconut oil. I ate under an umbrella with my feet in the sand, letting the meal stretch out longer than it needed to.
Baby Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 40 minutes (southeast coast)
- Address: Baby Beach, near San Nicolas
- Best Time to Visit: Weekdays for fewer crowds, early afternoon for warmest water
- Vibe: Easy, protected, great for kids or slow days
- Highlights: Shallow water, soft sand, lagoon feel
- Facilities: Bathrooms, rentals, shaded huts
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open sunrise to sunset
- Food Nearby: Big Mama Grill, Rum Reef café (both steps away)
Bachelors Beach: A Quick Stop, A Quiet Moment
Bachelors Beach wasn’t a place to spend the whole day—but for a few minutes, it was exactly what I needed. I pulled off the road near the airport, followed the short path between low scrub and rocks, and there it was: a slice of sand between coral outcrops, the sea waiting like it didn’t mind the time.
The waves came in strong, close to shore. No one else was there. I stood for a while, letting the wind whip my shirt, and thought, “This might be the most overlooked beach on the island.” The drop-off into the water was sharp, and the ocean felt colder here, brisk and refreshing. I didn’t stay long, just enough to swim out and float for a few minutes, the airport hum fading behind me.
I grabbed lunch from a nearby food truck on the way back into town—fried grouper and tostones wrapped in foil. The fish was hot and peppery, the batter crispy and golden. The tostones were thick-cut, salted perfectly, and still steaming. I ate them in the car, windows down, sea breeze cutting through the heat.
Bachelors Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: 15 minutes (near the airport)
- Address: Bachelors Beach, southeast Aruba
- Best Time to Visit: Early morning or late afternoon for shade
- Vibe: Quick, wild, quiet
- Highlights: Small cove, swimming, no crowds
- Facilities: None—no restrooms or rentals
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open access
- Food Nearby: Food trucks and casual spots near San Nicolas
Barcadera Beach: A Ghost of What Was
Barcadera Beach felt more like a memory than a destination. Set near Aruba’s industrial port area, it had a rawness to it—pebbled sand, sea-worn rocks, and the distant sound of cranes clanking in the background. But it wasn’t empty. The water here was still and glassy, and fishermen stood quietly along the edge, casting into the shallows like they’d done it every day for years.
I didn’t swim. I sat on a rock and watched the way the light played off the water, silver and broken in the breeze. It felt like a pause button in the middle of somewhere forgotten. “Not every beach needs to sparkle,” I thought, and I meant it in a good way.
I found a tiny corner store nearby that sold fresh pastries and bought a warm pastechi—filled with cheese and just a hint of spice. The crust was flaky and buttery, and I ate it standing next to my car, watching the clouds build over the water. Simple. Satisfying. Unexpectedly comforting.
Barcadera Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: 10–15 minutes (east toward the port)
- Address: Barcadera Beach, near the industrial zone
- Best Time to Visit: Late afternoon for softer light
- Vibe: Gritty, quiet, overlooked
- Highlights: Still water, local fishermen, solitude
- Facilities: None
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open all day
- Food Nearby: Small markets and local bakeries inland
Black Stone Beach
Black Stone Beach wasn’t soft. It wasn’t a place to lay out a towel or sip anything from a coconut. This stretch of coast was sharp and volcanic, the beach made of smooth black stones and rough coral that clattered under every step. The waves crashed hard, sending spray high into the air and spraying the rocks like punctuation marks.
I stood there a long time, watching the ocean beat the shoreline again and again. No one else was around—just sea spray and sun and wind. It felt like standing on the edge of something ancient. “This is what the world looked like before we cleaned it up for postcards,” I thought.
There’s nowhere to eat nearby, so I packed a snack: banana bread I’d bought from a woman selling homemade loaves in Oranjestad. It was soft and dense with cinnamon, the kind that leaves your fingers sticky and your heart a little full. I ate it sitting on a boulder, watching the tide pull back and start over, again and again.
Black Stone Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 30 minutes (northeast coast)
- Address: Black Stone Beach, near the Bushiribana Ruins
- Best Time to Visit: Morning or late day—strong midday sun, no shade
- Vibe: Wild, stark, elemental
- Highlights: Black stones, powerful surf, dramatic coastline
- Facilities: None—pure nature
- Cost: Free
- Hours: Open access
- Food Nearby: None—bring something with you
Boca Prins
I got to Boca Prins by following a narrow, twisting road through Arikok National Park. On the way in, I passed hills that looked like they belonged to another planet—low shrubs, rolling sand dunes, and goats picking their way along stone paths. When the beach finally appeared below the cliffs, it felt sudden and cinematic.
The waves at Boca Prins don’t whisper—they roar. They crash against the shore with a power that felt almost theatrical. Swimming here isn’t allowed, and I didn’t argue. Instead, I stood at the edge of the overlook, wind in my face, and thought, “This is the kind of place that reminds you how small you are.”
After hiking a little along the dunes, I had lunch at Boca Prins Restaurant perched above the cliffs. I ordered keshi yena—a baked dish of spiced meat wrapped in melted cheese. It smelled rich, warm, and earthy, with hints of clove and pepper. Every bite was layered and hearty, grounding me after all that wind and water below.
Boca Prins At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 45 minutes (within Arikok National Park)
- Address: Boca Prins, eastern coast of Aruba
- Best Time to Visit: Late morning or early evening for golden light
- Vibe: Windy, dramatic, awe-inspiring
- Highlights: Cliff views, crashing surf, nearby dunes
- Facilities: Viewing platforms, nearby restaurant
- Cost: Included with Arikok National Park entrance
- Hours: Park hours typically 8am to 4pm
- Food Nearby: Boca Prins Restaurant (right on-site)
Daimari Beach, Aruba
Getting to Daimari Beach wasn’t easy—and that’s part of why I loved it. Tucked deep inside Arikok National Park, it meant bumping along dirt roads and hiking down a rocky path that felt more like a goat trail than a beach access. But then the cliffs opened, and there it was: wide, wild, and nearly empty.
The surf here was fierce. The sand was coarse and golden, littered with driftwood and coral bones. I stood near the waterline, letting the wind hit full force, and thought, “Some beaches aren’t for lounging—they’re for witnessing.” This was one of them. I didn’t swim, but I wandered the length of the shore, letting the rough beauty wear on me in the best way.
I brought a sandwich from a deli back in Santa Cruz—thick-cut ham, cheese, tomato, and a slathering of mustard on crusty bread. It was smashed a little from the hike, but it tasted perfect with the salt still on my lips and sand clinging to my knees.
Daimari Beach At a Glance
- Drive time from Oranjestad: About 45–60 minutes (includes hiking)
- Address: Daimari Beach, within Arikok National Park
- Best Time to Visit: Early morning to avoid the heat and make the most of the quiet
- Vibe: Raw, remote, humbling
- Highlights: Cliff-framed beach, solitude, rugged beauty
- Facilities: None—no water, no restrooms
- Cost: Included with park admission
- Hours: 8am to 4pm (park hours)
- Food Nearby: None—bring food and water
I left Aruba sunburned in places I missed with sunscreen, shoes full of sand, and a camera that couldn’t quite capture how the light bent differently across each shore. But what stuck with me more than the views were the shifts—between stillness and wind, comfort and awe, softness and stone.
Some beaches gave me quiet: a place to float, to breathe, to think. Others gave me edges—black rocks, crashing surf, a reminder that nature doesn’t always ask to be tamed. I didn’t love every spot the same way, but each one gave me something: a bite of something warm, a breeze that cleared my head, a view that stayed long after I’d moved on.
If you go, don’t rush. Let the sand cling to your ankles. Bring snacks. Watch how the waves move differently on every side of the island. Aruba doesn’t just offer beaches—it offers moods. And if you’re paying attention, you’ll find a part of yourself in each one.