Myrtle Beach, SC

A 1962 oceanfront dining room in a converted 1930s beach house — same family, same fireplace in the lounge, and the she-crab soup that locals still consider the Grand Strand benchmark. Breakfast on the ocean porch is the visit most regulars schedule.

A sustainability-driven kitchen on Restaurant Row from a James Beard-nominated chef — Carolina-coastal cooking, certified-green operations, and a wine list that actually pairs with the seafood instead of fighting it. The off-strip dinner reservation locals actually fight for.

The off-boardwalk steakhouse the long-term locals have used for 25 years — dim lighting, banquettes, dry-aged ribeyes from a Midwest broker, and a martini that's properly cold. The default special-occasion dinner for Grand Strand residents.

A small sushi-and-Asian-fusion room on Restaurant Row — fish flown in three times a week, a Pacific-Rim cocktail list, and a chef's omakase that holds its own against the better lists in Charleston. The dinner answer for everyone tired of fried platters.

An off-strand breakfast-and-lunch room that runs its own bakery — almond croissants, quiche of the day, a benedict list past the standard two, and a hot-tea counter that serves loose-leaf properly. The brunch the locals' moms have been meeting at for 25 years.

An unfussy soul-food kitchen on Mr. Joe White Avenue — fried chicken, oxtails, collards cooked with smoked turkey, and a daily-special board that locals know by heart. The cafeteria-line lunch the rest of the Grand Strand should be paying attention to.

A glass-walled dining room at the base of 2nd Avenue Pier — ocean view from every table, breakfast through dinner, and the only restaurant in town with the surf this loud through the window. Sunrise on the porch is the off-season locals' breakfast.

An 1885 little Methodist church in Little River converted into the Grand Strand's most-romantic dining room — stained glass, original beams, an antique-collection sideboard, and a menu of Lowcountry classics done with white-tablecloth care. The anniversary-dinner answer for North Myrtle locals.

A family-run Murrells Inlet institution since 1948 — wood paneling, paper placemats, fried shrimp baskets, and the chowder that's still on the menu from opening week. The Inlet Kitchen the older locals consider the actual benchmark.

The MarshWalk anchor — three decks over the saltwater estuary, fishing-boat traffic at the dock below, and a kitchen that runs a Calabash-style fried platter alongside a respectable raw bar. Sunset on the deck is what you came south of Myrtle for.

The newer-school MarshWalk option — a tuna-focused menu, sushi rolls, blackened-tuna sandwiches, and the most-instagrammed dock-side cocktail program on the Inlet. Doesn't drift into tourist-trap because the kitchen actually cares.

A family-owned MarshWalk room without the deck — quieter, more dining-focused, with a raw bar that runs Carolina oysters from October through April. The MarshWalk option for diners who want to actually hear the table.

On the site of the 1845 Hot Fish Club (the historic gentlemen's club where the inlet's plantation owners ate their day's catch) — now a sound-facing dining room with crab cakes, shrimp and grits, and Lowcountry classics done well. Most history per square foot on the MarshWalk.

A laid-back MarshWalk option with a full raw bar, fried platters, sandwiches, and live music seven nights in season. The bar that fills with locals after their shifts at the other MarshWalk kitchens — the off-duty signal.

An MarshWalk-side wood-fired room from the Russell's family — pizzas out of the oak oven, steaks off the open hearth, and a wine list that quietly runs to 90 bottles. The MarshWalk option that doesn't put seafood first.

A small Austrian-leaning Continental dining room near Restaurant Row — schnitzel done properly, paprikash, a goulash that takes two hours to braise, and a Viennese pastry counter at the front. The dinner option for the Grand Strand fish-platter weeknight.

Wood-fired pizzas and house-pulled mozzarella from a small kitchen on 38th Avenue — Neapolitan-style 90-second pies, a short pasta list, and a wine-by-the-glass program that quietly outpaces the chains around it. The Italian answer to the Grand Strand's fried-fish defaults.

An upscale dinner room on the Intracoastal at Barefoot Landing — Australian-themed (the namesake's golf empire) with a kitchen that takes the steakhouse playbook seriously. The water-view dinner reservation North Myrtle locals reach for.

A family-run Italian bakery in Surfside that started in a Bronx kitchen — cannoli filled to order, lobster tails, a sfogliatelle that's the only one south of Hilton Head. The dessert stop the regulars know about.

A clubby USDA-prime-only steakhouse on 28th Avenue North that's been the Myrtle Beach big-night-out room for 20+ years — the dining room is dark, loud, and full of golf groups, the steaks come Pittsburgh-style if you ask. The reservation-on-Saturday move.

An oddly-good Japanese-Mediterranean hybrid two blocks off the oceanfront on 21st Avenue — steaks, pastas, full sushi list, the room a step more chic than the strip. The locals' answer when you need 'sushi or steak, group can't decide.'

Chef Perrone's Mediterranean-French-Lowcountry dining room on Ocean Highway in Pawleys Island — comfortable rather than stuffy, an awarded wine list, steaks that beat the steakhouses up the road. Routinely ranked top-two in Pawleys on every list.

A 30-year Myrtle Beach Italian institution on South Kings Highway where the owner Michael plays accordion through the dining room and the prix-fixe includes bruschetta, soup, salad, and a roll — old-school red-sauce with a real wine list. The 'we want Italian, not a chain' answer.

A retro-Florida-vibe seafood-and-prime-rib room on North Kings Highway with 30-day in-house aged Midwestern prime rib, peppercorn tuna, and a vaporwave-pastel dining room that reads tourist-trap but pulls a local crowd. Reservations not required — and that's the trick.

A 312-acre park inside city limits — one of the few stretches of longleaf-pine maritime forest left in the Grand Strand, plus a fishing pier, dune walkovers, and a one-mile sculptured-oak nature trail through the woods. The local-park morning walk the strip never sees.

Twin to Myrtle Beach State Park but bigger and with the marsh complex — a salt marsh boardwalk, an alligator pond at the causeway, and Atalaya the Moorish-Revival castle ruin at the south end. Three miles of beach, three habitats, one parking sticker.

An inland 9,800-acre Carolina-bay preserve north of Conway off Highway 90 — pocosin bog, longleaf pine savanna, and one of the few places left where a wild Venus flytrap grows in its native range. Truly off-strip nature; minimal signage, maximal solitude.

A free 115-acre county preserve at the south end of Little River — boardwalks over the salt marsh, an old slave-cemetery overlook, and an unhurried sound-side trail that ends at the inlet. The North Myrtle off-strand walk locals send each other to.

A paved waterfront promenade 20 minutes inland on the Waccamaw River, behind the historic Conway downtown — moss-draped live oaks, a 1937 swing bridge, and a 0.6-mile boardwalk extension into the river swamp past the bridge. The walk the chains-and-strip-mall side of the county doesn't tell you about.

The Grand Strand's go-to rainy-day plan — Dangerous Reef glass tunnel with sharks and rays gliding overhead, a touch tank of horseshoe crabs and small rays, and a mermaid show four times daily. The setup the Carolina kids leave most-quoted.

The 187-foot Ferris wheel at the south end of the boardwalk — 42 climate-controlled gondolas, a 10-minute ride, and the highest open view of the Grand Strand. The night ride is the postcard photo of the LED-skirted wheel from the boardwalk below.

A zoological park next to Barefoot Landing — 800 alligators including the white-skinned albino ones, large-snake exhibits, big-cat enclosures, and a 30-minute live-feeding show that's well worth scheduling. Bigger than the Ripley's tank, longer than a one-hour aquarium visit.

A long-running 2,200-seat variety theater on Highway 17 — country music, comedy, dance, holiday shows. Production values that hold their own against Branson, run by the same Calvin Gilmore family for 35 years. The dinner-theater answer for the Strand.

A 100-plus-car classic-and-muscle museum on 22nd Avenue North — Hemis, Cobras, Tri-Five Chevys, and a curated rotation that changes a few cars every season. Built by a single car-collecting family; the under-known rainy-day plan for car people.

The Grand Strand's last oceanfront wooden-roller-coaster park — a 1968 Swamp Fox coaster, a Ferris wheel, classic boardwalk rides, and a separate water park next door. The pre-SkyWheel, pre-corporate-pier amusement that the strip was built on.

A 9,100-acre garden and outdoor-sculpture park on a former indigo and rice plantation south of Murrells Inlet — the largest collection of American figurative sculpture anywhere, set among live-oak allees and old rice trunks. The Lowcountry Zoo inside the gates is a quiet bonus the brochure undersells.

Across the highway from Brookgreen, a 2,500-acre state park built on Archer Huntington's old beachfront estate — three miles of empty beach, a salt marsh boardwalk, an alligator pond at the entrance, and Atalaya, the 1930s Moorish-revival winter home crumbling in slow motion at the south end.

The 1.2-mile oceanfront boardwalk between 14th Avenue North and 2nd Avenue North — three distinct sections, from the pier ends with arcades and shops to the open beachfront promenade. The Myrtle Beach the postcards sell, walkable end-to-end in 30 minutes.

A half-mile wooden boardwalk along the saltwater estuary behind a row of seafood restaurants and oyster bars — fishing boats unloading at the back docks, fiddler crabs in the pluff mud, and the best sunset view in the Grand Strand from any railing. Best after-dinner walk south of Myrtle.

On the Waccamaw River 20 minutes inland from the beach, a paved waterfront promenade behind the small downtown of antebellum Conway — moss-draped live oaks, a 1937 swing bridge over the river, and antique shops and old-South storefronts. The not-beach side of the county locals visit when they want a town and not a strip.

The Moorish-style winter home Anna Hyatt Huntington and Archer Huntington built on the dunes at Huntington Beach State Park in the 1930s — open-roofed central courtyard, sculpture studio for Anna, all unrestored and atmospheric. The most photographed thing in Murrells Inlet that isn't the MarshWalk.

An oceanfront art museum in a restored 1924 beach cottage on the south end of the Boardwalk — 11 rotating galleries of Southeast-region paintings, photography, ceramics, and textiles. The cultural break Myrtle Beach didn't seem like it would have.