Florida in a flash

My indecision has got the better of me, and so instead of whittling down my photos, I have opted to include all four. They were taken at sunrise on our first morning in Florida. Both the location and the person are unknown, but together they make quite the picture.

I’m almost certain that all coastal towns between Atlantic Beach and Cocoa Beach were developed using the latest version of Sims. I’m sorry to say it, but someone somewhere is being paid far too much money to turn (his?) virtual world into a high rise, fast food, retirement resort reality.

To begin with, there’s St Augustine; a town created in the bedroom of a medieval enthusiast, with a penchant for ice cream and spicy food. In no less than four square blocks we found three hot sauce stores, ten frozen dairy vendors and more Spanish themed restaurants than you’ll find on the Costa Del Sol. This potpourri of shops is diversified further by a brick fort and antiquated themed shops, offering to photograph tourists in period costumes. Whilst I don’t think the curator be winning town planner of the year, he’ll definitely gets props for his sense of humour.

Now I don’t mean to besmirch the people of Daytona, but where was your aesthetics committee when “the drag” was designed? Or the environmentalists, when the law permitting vehicles to drive on the beach was passed? They couldn’t have all been chaperoning a Harley rally, could they?

When I feared that all hope might be lost, we arrived in Palm Bay: a decadent place, in a league of its very own. The opulence is almost unfathomable; with private jetties at the back, and exclusive beach gardens at the front, there is nothing to obstruct the views from these mansions. The main thoroughfare, is so narrow it wouldn't constitute a capillary, let alone an artery - making this the most privileged place I’ve encountered in America yet.

The drive down to Palm Beach continued in this vain, with fabulosity around every sandy corner. Jupiter and Juno Beach were two memorable pockets of heaven that most definitely deserve a little attention if you’re ever in the area.

Lucan and I are fortunate enough to have a lovely friend in Fort Lauderdale; and not just any friend, the friend to have if you’re adventuring through Florida. Steven is one of the most exuberant characters I’ve met traveling; his generosity, humour and fun-loving nature has earned him a gorgeous girlfriend and the best of friends - which in turn awarded us the most fabulous memories. Don, his housemate, was kind enough to host a wonderful BBQ for us and a group of his friends. As the beer flowed and the meat smoked, Lucan and I looked at one another with a shared understanding that we truly do live the best life.

Determined to show us the best of Miami, Steven and Lauren took us on a guided tour through Wynwood: Florida’s answer to Bushwick, Fitzroy and Shoreditch. Where machines once rumbled, spray cans now hiss, as graffiti artist vie for the best spots. Buildings, both inside and out, scream with colour and character, making its industrial history very much a thing of the past. As is often the case with neighbourhoods like this, where the graffiti artists go, the hipsters follow; which in this case has resulted in illegal art + artisan sour dough. Perfect combination.

To be honest, my excitement for the Keys was being tempered the closer we got. It has been my experience that the more widespread the popularity, the greater the exploitation, and the Keys are no exception. I imagine that twenty or thirty years ago, this sliver of lush land probably felt like an exclusive tropical paradise, and yet, in no more than three decades it’s been utterly transformed. Where trees and white sands should reign supreme, McDonalds and Winn Dixies grow.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some truly breath-taking vistas, mostly as you cross the bridges, or from the deck chair of a resort; but if it’s uninterrupted natural beauty you’re after, I’d recommend somewhere less renowned.

In an effort to save ourselves from yet more mosquito punctures, we decided to leave the Keys in favour of the Everglades. Unfortunately we arrived a little too late to watch the sunset, but, under the cover of darkness, we managed to sneak a free camping spot. The following day started with a perfect sunrise and a short stroll to the showers - which is a grossly under-rated luxury. After that we whipped out the juicer (yes, we have a real juicer for the van!) and prepared ourselves a litre of carrot, apple, ginger and lime loveliness. With our bodies anti-oxidised, it was time for an alligator encounter. Luckily for us, our trip coincided with the annual migration of all wildlife to a specific part of the park and so the friendly reptile wasn’t all we got to see. Sharing in his swamp were all sorts of birds and fish - I guess they didn’t study the demographics too hard before moving.

Heeding the recommendations for Sanibel, we made it our next destination, hopeful that it was as tranquil as people promised. Thankfully it was, in fact, it was our favourite part of the state yet. Our arrival at nightfall made finding a camping spot our primary objective, fortunately, in Florida where there’s a bridge over water, there’s normally a pretty cool place to park. To anyone conjuring up images of the A1 flyover, I encourage you to stop; believe me, these pull-offs are like nothing we have seen before. They’re often lined with wooden picnic tables, clean bathrooms and a picture perfect view out to sea. Lucan and I were so impressed with our parking spot that we returned the following day for sunset and stayed until 7am the following morning. They aren’t all spectacular, but they can be, and when you find one devoid of any other souls, you have yourself the perfect, secret spot.

As for Sanibel itself, well we had a simply glorious day. As I mentioned before, it started early - as they always do - which afforded us a couple of hours at the Sunday fair. As semi-seasoned travelers, we’ve seen a profusion of markets, and it goes without saying, this was definitely one of the best. Not only was the quality outstanding, the selection was vast: from freshly squeezed juices to spelt-rye loaves; from pasta and meatballs to chicken pot pie. Our first interaction was with two greek ladies selling a medley of authentic Mediterranean salads and dips. As roasted garlic danced on our tastebuds and coriander played in our nose, it didn’t take long to turn us from perusers to patrons. Around the corner from there, was a BBQ and two blokes, proud of their meat and more than willing to share. Unlike the rib vendors, who had pre-sold at least half of their supply, before they’d even finished smoking them! With half an hour left on the clock and a queue of at least twenty, Lucan was convinced that he’d found the Dalai Lama of ribs. Typically, his patience couldn’t quite match his curiosity and so a more stoical carnivore won the prize. His disappointment didn’t last long though, thanks to the creme de la creme of all market stalls. Under a small, white canopy at the entrance was a portable clay oven and two Italian chefs. Between them they were preparing and cooking some of the best pizzas I’ve ever had, just the thought of them is making me salivate. They were that good, that Lucan is now committed to building an oven like this when we get back to Canada; and hey, who am I to stand in his way!?

With our fridge stocked and our juicer supply replenished we made our way to one of Sanibel’s notorious beaches, only to discover a huge discrepancy between our budget and parking prices. For that reason we jumped back in the van and headed North in search of somewhere a little more reasonable. What we found wasn’t much cheaper, but it was very convincing. Nestled just north of Sanibel, is Captiva, a tiny little island, no more than five miles long. Although a lot of the coastline is ‘private access only’, there are some spots, like the one we found, which can be enjoyed by all. Like all treasures, it would be easy to overlook this place, but not so easy to forget.

After our day in Captiva we were certain we’d found one of Florida’s best kept secrets, that was until we stumbled upon Casey Key, on the gulf coast. Arriving late in the afternoon, ravenous and rather tired, we whipped up a bowl of Sri Lankan soul food, a pot of chai and headed to the beach for sunset. Cocooned in Lucan’s arms, the two of us watched the sun perform an impressive kaleidoscopic routine, turning the sky from blue, to orange, to pink and everything in between. The journey from there to our renegade camping spot was utterly breath-taking, and totally surprising considering it was pitch black. If you have read any of my previous posts, you’ll have learned that I LOVE fairy lights, well these houses took night lighting to another level - they were so entrancing in fact that I only remembered to take one photo, apologies for my shortfall.

As has become our habit, we found ‘our spot’ a little late in the day, and thus what started as a spontaneous break to juice rapidly turned into an overnight stay. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to wake up everyday somewhere new and exciting, especially when the air is warm and there isn’t a soul in sight. When you combine those things with “sugar white sands” and crystal blue waters, then you may have found yourself on Bradenton Beach, just as we did. With nothing but sunscreen, water and a deck of cards, we wiled away the whole day, wearing nothing but our swimwear and a smile.

I’m almost too excited about today to write about it, but seeing as I’m sat on a pier, with nothing to do but bask in the glorious sunshine and admire my boyfriend fishing, I guess I should.

A noisy convoy broke our slumber at 5am, forcing me into the driving seat and Lucan deeper under the covers. After a couple of hours on the road, we decided to pull into a marina for breakfast, where we watched a flurry of people rush into the water, kayaks in hand. It was another few hours before a sign for ‘freshly caught shrimp’ drew us off the tarmac and into a restaurant full of friendly strangers. We hadn’t been there five minutes before a customer offered us a place to stay and a shower should we want one. Enraptured by the crowd, we decided to forget about buying food to take away, and instead promised to return when they reopened for dinner. Our intention was to waste a few hours on the beach, but we ended up sharing a bowl of shrimp, a pint of beer and a few stories in the back with the owners. Hank, (one of the proprietors) then proposed that we spend the afternoon at his place, where there was plenty of room to park and a pier to fish from. As my opening line insinuates, we accepted his kind offer with no hesitation.

For two hours, Lucan played the patient fisherman, but to no avail. Every time he thought he’d caught something, he’d reel the line in, only to discover he’d been duped by yet another survivalist. Just as the bait was running out, Brian the fish whisperer turned up and suggested that Lucan move four foot to the right. Willing to try anything, he shimmied dutifully across the pier, and cast his rod into a school of waiting fish. In less than fifteen minutes he’d caught four, unfortunately their size dictated that we had to let them go, and so we headed to Cj’s Pit Stop for dinner instead. Keen to experience something truly American, we opted for the ‘all you can eat shrimp’, which is undoubtedly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I won’t divulge exactly how much shrimp we ate - for fear of aquatic reprisal later in life - but what I will say, is that the ocean makes some damn fine food.

A spirited storm lit up the skies and reverberated around us throughout the night, leading us into an equally tumultuous day. For hours we watched people run into Cj’s, desperate to escape the wicked winds and the heavy rains. Those that stayed for lunch and dinner were treated to an evening of karaoke, courtesy of Bullet and a handful of talented locals. Their zealous performances and fun choice of songs successfully turned two country music neophytes into rustic cheerleaders. If I could have teleported my mum there, I would; beer in hand, she’d have been up there, dancing with the best of them.

I cannot emphasise enough how much we appreciated the kindness and generosity that Hank and his family showed us. Interactions are hugely influential when it comes to defining who we are and what we become, which is why I hold them in such high regard. I truly believe a warm smile is all it takes to turn a stranger into a friend.