7 Secret Alicante Viewpoints Locals Keep Hidden From Tourists
I remember the first time I truly fell for Alicante. It was a sticky August evening in 2014, my third trip to Spain's Costa Blanca, and I'd just escaped the scrum at Santa Bárbara Castle. You know the drill: tour buses disgorging flip-flop-clad hordes, selfie sticks waving like white flags of surrender. The view from up there? Sure, postcard-perfect bay and palm-lined boulevard. But as I trudged down those steep cobbled paths, sweat stinging my eyes, I overheard two old-timers at a corner bar muttering about secret Alicante viewpoints locals keep hidden. One, a weathered fisherman named Paco with a cigarette dangling from his lip, leaned in and whispered, "Olvida el castillo, amigo. Los locales tenemos sitios mejores, sin colas." That was my in. Over a caña of Estrella Galicia, he sketched a rough map on a napkin—dusty trails, forgotten hills, cliff edges where the Mediterranean crashes like it's got a grudge. No Google Maps pins, no TripAdvisor reviews. Just pure, unfiltered Alicante, the kind that Alicante locals only scenic spots with epic views cling to like family recipes.
Over the years, I've chased those leads, hiking at dawn, bribing with churros, earning nods from dog-walkers and abuela gossip circles. These aren't your Instagram traps; they're hidden viewpoints in Alicante off the beaten path, where you can hear your own thoughts amid the pine-scented wind. I've twisted ankles on goat paths, shared bocadillos with shepherds, watched storms brew over the Sierra de Aitana. And now, after a decade of pilgrimages, I'm spilling the beans on my top seven. Not in some neat list—life doesn't work that way—but as a rambling journey from Alicante's beating heart outward, like the sun tracing the coast. Pack sturdy shoes, a thermos of café con leche, and let's slip past the tourists to the best secret lookouts Alicante avoid tourists flock to.
Cerro de San Blas: Neighborhood Hilltop Revelation
Start close, in the city's scruffy northern edges, where Barrio San Blas climbs like a rebellious staircase into the hills. It's not marked on any app, but locals call it Cerro de San Blas, a scraggly hilltop that's more neighborhood secret than tourist stop. I first found it by accident in 2016, tailing a mangy street cat up Calle San Blas—no number, just follow the incline from the basilica until the houses thin out into olive groves and abandoned fincas. The "address" is roughly the end of Calle San Blas, 03510 Alicante, always accessible since it's public scrubland—no gates, no hours, dawn to dusk your call, though sunset's magic. (Pro tip from Paco: arrive by the 02 bus from Plaza de Luceros, hop off at the barrio edge, 20-minute uphill schlep.)
Up top, it's a revelation. No railings, just raw panorama: the castle's silhouette piercing the sky, Postiguet Beach curling like a golden comma below, ferries slicing to Tabarca Island. But turn east, and bam—Alicante's underrated side, the shantytown edges blending into jagged sierras, salt air thick with jasmine from nearby gardens. I sat there once for three hours as the sun dipped, painting the bay in bruised purples and fiery oranges. A local couple picnicked nearby, sharing tortilla española; they laughed when I asked if it's safe—"Más seguro que el castillo con los guiris." Sensory overload: the distant hum of Vueling jets from the airport, wild thyme crunching underfoot, horizon swallowing yachts like snacks. It's one of those Alicante cliff viewpoints tourists don't know, perfect for pondering how this port city bootstrapped from Moorish roots to Euro playground. Stay till dark for city lights twinkling like fallen stars—pure poetry. I chipped a tooth on a rock there once, chasing a perfect photo, but hell, worth it. Nearby, detour to Bar San Blas (Calle San Blas 12, open till late) for montaditos that taste like victory. This spot alone rewired my Alicante love; 600 meters above sea level feels like stealing heaven.
Mirador Cronista José Chaqués: Gritty Westside Perch
Winding down from San Blas, my paths often veer to Mirador Cronista José Chaqués, tucked in Alicante's west like a shy lover. Not the flashy balcones, this one's a concrete perch locals defend fiercely. Address: Avenida Aguilera s/n, 03012 Alicante, smack in Villafranqueza neighborhood—take the 21 bus from the center, alight at Aguilera/Chaqués, five-minute walk up a potholed lane flanked by lemon trees dripping fruit. Open 24/7, but golden hour (6-8pm summer) transforms it. I discovered it via my neighbor Rosa, a retired teacher who'd picnic here with her novio in the '70s. "Turistas van al puerto; nosotros, aquí," she'd say.
The view? Underrated Alicante panoramic viewpoints hidden gems status earned. Southwest sweep over the industrial port (cranes like giant Meccano), north to the endless beach chain toward Santa Pola, foreground dotted with saggy power lines and kids' graffiti-tagged benches—real life, unpolished. Breathe in the mix of sea brine and faint diesel from the refineries; it's gritty poetry. One stormy afternoon in 2019, I watched lightning fork over Cabo de las Huertas, rain sheeting sideways, my jacket soaked through. Locals huddled under umbrellas, sharing anecdotes of Franco-era smuggling. Humor in the peril: slipped on wet tiles, grabbed a rusty rail—tetanus shot followed, but that vista of churning waves? Epic. Pair it with a ramble to nearby Mercado Villafranqueza (Av. Historiador Vicente Ramos, open mornings) for fresh calamares a la plancha. It's locals favorite sunset viewpoints Alicante, where the dying light gilds the Tetis oil platform like fool's gold. No crowds, just you and the gods.
Mirador de la Cruz de San Juan: Illicit Playa San Juan Cliffs
Further afield, north along the coast where Alicante bleeds into Playa de San Juan, lies a gem on the cliffs that feels illicit. Forget the promenade cafés; hike the unmarked sendero from the beach's north end, past the Club de Regatas (Carrer Llevant 1, 03540 Playa San Juan, Alicante). The viewpoint's informal—no plaque, call it Mirador de la Cruz de San Juan—coordinates roughly 38.370°N 0.520°W, accessed via a dirt path off Calle Llevant, always open, best pre-dawn to dodge early joggers. I got tipped by a surfer dude, Javi, over post-surf paella at Chiringuito El Xiringuito (Playa San Juan, open 10am-midnight).
Scramble up 10 minutes through scrub—thorny bushes snag your jeans, cicadas scream like alarms—and emerge to off-grid Alicante hilltop views secret spots. The payoff: sheer drop to turquoise cove waters, urban sprawl fading into Sierra Grossa peaks, a wooden cross (hence the name) weathered by gales. Sensory blast: foam exploding on rocks 50m below, ozone tang post-rain, distant karaoke from beach bars. I proposed to my wife here at dawn once (she said yes, phew), fog lifting to reveal dolphins arcing. Locals fish from ledges, casting lines into the abyss—joined one, caught nada but stories of Roman wrecks below. It's Alicante hidden gems for stunning vistas, shunning the boardwalk bustle. Humor: goats own the path; one headbutted my backpack, scattering oranges. Refuel at the chiringuito with gambas al ajillo, garlicky heaven. This stretch, developed in the '60s boom, hides Roman villa ruins nearby—history layered like lasagna.
Mirador de los Pescadores: Urbanova's Wild Cliff Edge
Southward pull now, to Urbanova's wilder sands, where Alicante's factory fringe meets the sea. The cliff viewpoint here, known to pescadores as Mirador de los Pescadores, perches above Playa de Urbanova. Address: End of Calle Urbanova, 03016 Alicante—bus C6 from Puerta del Mar, 30min ride, then 15min coastal trail from the beach access. No official hours, perpetual open-air theater, though winds howl after dark. My intro was via a truck driver, Manolo, met at a gas station; he grinned, "Turistas no suben, viento los asusta."
Climb via switchbacks eroded by flash floods—dusty, aromatic with rosemary clumps—and crest to top undiscovered viewpoints near Alicante Spain. Vast: Albufereta Beach stitching to Santa Pola horizon, salt flats shimmering like mirages, foreground tide pools teeming with crabs. The air? Iodized fury, mixed with bonfire smoke from beach barbacoas. Sat through a habanera once, purple clouds boiling, waves thundering approval. Locals' opinions: "Mejor que Postiguet, sin hampones." Subtle imperfection: graffiti tags fading in salt spray, a busted bench for perching. One evening, shared vino with a family fishing octopus—ink-black skewers later, smoky bliss. Nearby, Restaurante El Cranc (Urbanova 25, open lunch/dinner) does arroz a banda that haunts dreams. These Alicante locals only scenic spots with epic views whisper of Alicante's working soul.
Mirador Rabasa: Airport-Edged Inland Summit
Inland detour rewards: Rabasa's hump, behind the airport, a lumpy hill locals summit for city-bird's-eye. Mirador Rabasa, unmarked at Camino Viejo de Agost km 1, 03006 Alicante—drive A-7 exit 63 or bike the GR-10 trailhead. Dawn best, no closure. Discovered chasing a lead from a taxi driver; he dropped me with a wink, "Sube, pero no digas."
The ascent's a lung-burner, 300m gain through pinewoods—needles carpet the path, releasing vanilla scent when crushed. Summit reveals best secret lookouts Alicante avoid tourists cred: Alicante unfurled like a map, airport runways alive with silver darts, bay winking turquoise, inland sierras mauve. Jet roar adds drama; watched a 747 lift off once, belly mere meters seeming. Humor: paragliders buzzed me, yelling "¡Muévete, abuelo!" Felt alive, wind-whipped. Opinions? Castle's meh compared; this breathes freedom. Picnicked with jamón from nearby Cortijo de Rabasa (open days). It's raw, restorative.
Ermita de Santa Faz Belvedere: Slyly Elevated Sanctuary
Nearer the center but slyly elevated, Ermita de Santa Faz's belvedere. Av. de Denia 6, 03016 Alicante—bus 10min from center, sanctuary open 9am-7pm, viewpoint anytime. My abuela proxy, Concha, shared during Holy Week procession: "Aquí, sin romerías, puro."
Stone steps wind up, incense lingering, to views of Santa Faz plains rolling to Orihuela, city nestled below. Olive groves patchwork quilt, bells tolling. Storm-chased here, rainbow arching post-downpour. Locals pray, picnic—joined with pan con tomate. Sensory: herb-earth mingle, fresco coolness. Serene contrast to coastal frenzy.
Mirador de la Cruz de la Muela: Crown Jewel North in Jijona
Finally, the crown: Mirador de la Cruz de la Muela, Jijona 30km north (CV-800, park at trailhead, 03510 Jijona). Hike 1hr, always open. Tico, a turrón maker, mapped it: "Turrón views!"
Summit at 800m: valleys terraced with almonds, Alicante distant sparkle, Aitana snowcapped winter. Wind howls, eagles soar. Shared fiesta with hikers—jijonenca sweets sticky joy. Life-changer, these Alicante hidden gems for stunning vistas etched in my bones.
Why These Spots Capture Alicante's Soul
These spots? Alicante's soul, beyond the buses and beer ads, for those who hike past the hordes. Tread light, respect the locals, chase your own sunsets. Your turn to steal the views—carefully.
