Florida Side to Side, East to West

Sunrise, Ponte Vedra Beach

First we dropped into the Eastern sector of Florida, Ponte Vedra Beach, you know where they have the Atlantic ocean, and the sun rises straight up out of it. The ocean was stormy and angry when we arrived. It was aware that it was ruining expectations. God forbid the visitors have rain.

Then we drove across the state to Sand Key in Clearwater Beach Florida. Over here you get sunsets. Plopping down into the Gulf of Mexico, which is as warm and placid as a sleeping baby. No waves, no action, no anger. It’s still the ocean but it is as flat as an EKG after a heart attack. 

With Sally and Bill, Copacabana, Mount Dora

We also stopped in the middle of Florida in Mount Dora to meet friends for lunch at a Cuban restaurant, the Copacabana. Lucy and Ricky weren’t there, but there were red and green hot sauces on the table, which I was grateful for. I always think Cuban food should be spicy. But it’s not. Central Florida offers no wet sunrise or splashdown sunset, it is the “countryside” with mangroves, marshes, and lakes. Mount Dora was a surprisingly hip little town with artisans selling gourmet olive oil, colorful glass windchimes and the like. 

Visiting Mary Ann

In the east we stayed with relatives who have an oceanfront condo at Serenata Beach. The owner of their development had so much clout that he got the Florida Highway Department to make a little bend in A1A, so that you can easily turn off the road into the complex. A1A is otherwise straight as a stretcher. 

With Bill Junior at Caps on the Water

We had lunch at the self-described "laid back atmosphere” of Beaches restaurant in Vilano Beach, and dinner at Caps on the Water in St. Augustine. Florida eateries seem to have a penchant for sweetening foods that don’t require sweetening. Like pineapple mango salsa with my fish tacos. What’s up with that? And a perfectly solid order of fried calamari drowned in a mysterious sweet red sauce. Perhaps Floridians think spoonfuls of sugar help the meals go down. 

 Flagler College, formerly Ponce de Leon Hotel, St. Augustine

We stayed at The Sand Key Sheraton in Clearwater Beach. At only 8 stories tall it looked like the baby on a beach that is lined with sky-high, high rises. All of them are set about a fifth of a mile from the ocean. Far enough to warrant a ride in a golf cart for Sheraton guests.  The floods aren’t going to get these guys. 

Beach quiz - what's this? *

The wide white sand beach was great for tanning, swimming. long walks, cool breezes, laughing seagulls, and crazy sandpipers acting like they are on speed.

Sunset from Pier 60, Clearwater Beach

The real “downtown” action is at Pier 60 in Clearwater Beach, a few miles north of our hotel. As you walk down the long pier you don’t realize that you will be soaked for a dollar to get to the end for the primo sunset viewing. We felt the $2 sunset was well worth the price, as did hundreds of other mad dogs staring  into the sun for half an hour to make sure it went down. No one applauded at the end. I like it better when people applaud. 

Flagler College,  St. Augustine, former Ponce de Leon Hotel

One night we ate at Badfins where the waitress told us about the difficulties of being an only child, and her ensuing anxieties. The next we ate at a restaurant called Backwaters, a waterfront grill and tavern. I think the restauranteurs in Florida need a branding consultant. Plus, who do I talk to about new menu language? They’ve started grouping sandwiches and tacos under the category “Hand Helds.” I suppose this is to accommodate the unfortunate rise in “wraps,” and to save menu space. Will entrees one day be categorized as “fork helds” and drinks as “mouth helds”?

Despite the unappetizing names, Badfins and Backwaters both had good food. The menus in Florida get a bit repetitive, calamari, oysters, shrimp, ceviche, and grouper served three ways, key lime pie for dessert. 

Darr's cousin Theresa and husband Bill, Ybor City

We drove into Tampa Bay for lunch with Darr’s cousin. We met at the famous Columbia  in Ybor City, Florida’s oldest restaurant, 1905, and the world’s largest Spanish restaurant with seating for up to 1700. Old school waiters, white tablecloths, elaborate Spanish décor. Every diner is immediately presented with half a loaf of bread and butter. They had me at bread and butter. “The 1905 Salad” is made at your table, so that there is no mistaking the age of the ingredients. 

Patrolling the streets of Ybor City

Afterwards we walked around Ybor City and may or may not have stopped in at a cigar bar. 

Our last dinner was at the rhymey Marina Cantina. When I ordered the "Award winning chips and salsa,” the waitress said, “Well they'd better be, for $4.” I don’t know the source of the award, but I’ve always found that the best chips and salsa in life are free. We dined on what they called “elevated Mexican fusion cuisine,” at an elevated setting overlooking the harbor. 

Florida had 137 million visitors in 2022. Could they all be wrong? This pendulous protuberance of a state, all in all, has a lot to offer, warmth and water, and gulls and grouper. We had fun there.

* Lightning Whelk Egg Casing (duh)

Florida fun