January 16 – 19: The ferry ride was pleasant, if chilly. Hateful AC and me without a sweater. We passed the time chatting with our “table mates” from south Jersey and planning our next moves. It was easy to find our bed and breakfast, the Heron House, where we stored our bags and set off to get some lunch. Wound up at Pinchneys on Duval Street for crab dip and crab and corn chowder. Both of which led to Ron having a very uncomfortable night.
Now Duval Street reminds us of every other tourist destination by a beach: wall to wall bars and seafood restaurants, souvenir shops, street vendors and ice cream stands. Did I mention bars? They say happy hour here lasts from sunrise to sunrise and it did sort of seem that way on Duval Street, especially when the cruise ships were in. It was crowded and loud and busy, with a funky, anticipatory vibe. Not exactly our style although we did enjoy admiring the sunset from Mallory Square with hundreds of others, watching the street performers and sitting on a bench with a mojito (for me) and an O’Doules (for Ron) outside of Meson de Pepe’s listening to Cuban music. Dinner was at Sarabeth’s (yes, that Sarabeth) just a few steps from our B&B.
It has become traditional for us to spend the first day in a new city on either a public or tour bus getting an overview, deciding what to return to and what to skip. So after visiting the Audubon House in the morning and having lunch at Pepe’s, we sprang for the Old Time Trolley and did the whole 1 1/2 hour ride, past the Truman Gardens and summer White House, past the art and history museums, right by the Hemingway House and the southernmost point monument, through the groves of resorts, down past the causeway connecting the keys to Miami, and back again. By then Ron had had it so he went back to the Heron House to nap by the pool and I walked parallel to Duval Street back to the Southernmost Point (which technically IS the southernmost point in the US, closer to Cuba than to Miami), wending my way through the side streets and admiring the houses and gardens along the way. No camera, though, and my phone was nearly dead so I’ll just have to try to remember it all.
The ferry line was long by the time we got there and when we boarded, there were few seats left on the upper deck, so we asked if we could join another couple already seated. Coincidences keep piling up on the road. Turns out Cathy and Dennis are also from New York, born in the Bronx, currently living in Queens (we think) and newly retired from NYPD (him) and teaching English in a Catholic high school in Brooklyn (her). They are seasoned travelers and we chatted all the way through the sunset and rough seas. Dennis is very familiar with Staten Island – he visited there with an uncle as a child, and the SI station houses while on duty. He and Ron reminisced a bit about old SI and I invited them to visit when we got back home.
Before we left home Ron had made a reservation for the night at Oscar Scherer SP (over an hour north of Fort Myers Beach and the ferry dock) but I was extremely apprehensive about finding (1) the park and (2) our site in the dark. Cranky, even. Finding the park turned out to be pretty simple although we made a few detours trying to grab a bite to eat (BTW, nothing is open after 11 pm in this part of the state, not even McDonalds). Luckily, Ron called ahead earlier to let them know we’d be arriving late so we had the gate code, let ourselves in and easily found our site. Well after midnight.
After a really good night’s sleep we decided to spend another day in the park, moving to the only open site they had left. After listening to Bill and Kate Isles, a folk/bluegrass duo from Michigan who spend their winters touring and volunteering at this park, we enjoyed another relaxing night. Got up early to join the assistant park manager and a small group of campers on a guided walk to find some of the scrub jays that call Oscar Scherer home. We were lucky; one of the five resident jay “families” popped up just a few feet from the trail only a few minutes into our walk. We all got good looks (and me without a camera again!) and continued on our way.
Our guide is responsible for much of the park maintenance, including managing the prescribed burns that keep the undergrowth from taking over. We’ve seen areas of controlled fires and their aftermath all across the country on state and federal lands but he described the entire process in fine detail, putting it all into perspective. There is no room for error, particularly in this park, which is located in an urban/suburban area, surrounded by highways and housing developments.
After checking out we joined Jane for brunch at First Watch, a chain of casual restaurants in the area. Almost missed her, though, as I kept calling her home phone instead of her cell and not getting any response. After 15 minutes or so I decided we were at the wrong location and we jumped in the van to find the other place in downtown Sarasota. She saw us pulling out of the parking lot and called just in time for us to turn right around again!
Thanks to Google maps, without which this trip would be nearly impossible, we quickly found Siesta Key and checked into the Cozy Cottage where we will spend the next few days. Al joined us later that evening.
The Ultimate Road Trip 