Welcome to Florida! Even alligators are smiling, visibly pleased to see us...
Friday, April 12, 2024
A very early start, a near-miss departure, smooth flying, a warm Florida welcome at Peaceful Paradise and The Pillars of the Earth.
Catherine ironing out the last details of our trip on the plane
Our day started out early and was not too promising. The night before, we had packed, unpacked, and repacked our check-in suitcases to hit the strict 50-pound weight limit. Catherine had decided to save 2 × $45 × 2 (i.e., $180) by avoiding carry-on luggage altogether. She awoke at 2:30 a.m. with a sudden fear that her car rental reservation had somehow vanished. Upon checking the Enterprise app she had downloaded when making the reservation a month earlier, she saw the alarming message: “no reservation.” Luckily, she also noticed the 1-800 number and called immediately, only to be relieved that the reservation was, in fact, safely in the system.
Impressive Skyway Sunshine Bridge
By then I was awake as well, getting ready for our 7:00 a.m. Sun Country flight, with a pickup by an independent driver scheduled for 4:30 a.m. He had confirmed twice the day before, even sending a cheerful “see you bright and early” text message—but at the appointed time he was nowhere to be seen. A quick text and phone call got him moving (and probably out of bed), and we were on our way just after 5:00 a.m. It was a close call, considering the flight was departing at 7:00 a.m.!
Our rental Toyota RAV4 had Louisiana plates
The smaller Hubert Humphrey (or Terminal Two) Airport in Minneapolis (44°52'25.7"N 93°13'30.9"W / 44.873806, -93.225250) was easy to get around. We had already checked in the day before and had our boarding passes on our cell phones, but we still needed to tag our baggage. A kind agent saw us looking a bit lost and stepped in to help (well, she really just did it all for us). Thanks to that, we had plenty of time to mosey upstairs, go through security, and find our gate. Since it was a domestic flight, we only had to show our driver’s licenses—I didn’t even bring my passport.
The plane was a Boeing 767-800. We were seated on aisle seats across from each other over the wing, surrounded by a bunch of small children who were, surprisingly, extremely quiet. Catherine appeared to be sleeping most of the time, while I was reading that day’s issue of The Wall Street Journal, which I had downloaded at the airport. In no time at all (well, 2 hours and 40 minutes) we arrived at PIE — St. Petersburg – Clearwater Airport in Florida.
Catherine went to pick up the rental car while I collected the baggage. Interestingly, there were no more than 20 pieces of luggage on the carousel; most passengers must have traveled very lightly, with only a purse or a backpack. It was a cheap flight to begin with ($69 each way per person, plus a hefty fee for each checked-in piece of luggage), and people clearly wanted to keep it that way—cheap! The car rental counter was perfectly located, just meters from baggage pickup. We even got first choice of vehicles and opted for a new Toyota RAV4 with a Louisiana license plate (27°54'21.7"N 82°41'37.8"W / 27.906028, -82.693833). The car rental for 2 weeks cost us about $700 US.
Our accommodation for the next 9 nights in Sarasota!
We had a lot of trouble connecting Catherine’s iPhone to the car’s navigation system and eventually gave up, reverting to my old, reliable Garmin GPS unit. We mostly took freeways toward South Sarasota. We drove on the impressive Sunshine Skyway Bridge, that spanned Lower Tampa Bay to connect Pinellas County (St. Petersburg, Florida) to Manatee County (Terra Ceia, Florida) and had the total length of 8851 meters. When we were close to our destination, the Garmin confidently instructed us to turn right onto Vaccaro Drive and proceed directly to our place. Unfortunately, Vaccaro Drive turned out to be gated—yes, a gated community—and we had to find another route. Later, our hosts told us that Vaccaro Drive had been closed to the public for about ten years! Once back in Canada, I sent an email to Garmin asking them to fix this (and a bunch of other) errors.
Catherine enjoying a drink at our VRBO in Sarasota
Eventually, we reached South Tamiami Trail, turned right onto Constitution Road, made the final left onto America Drive, and arrived at the VRBO (an online marketplace for vacation rentals, formerly it was an abbreviation for Vacation Rentals By Owner, but since 2019 the company has been known as VRBO) we had booked: “Peaceful Paradise,” located at 5646 America Drive (27°16'14.2"N 82°31'34.3"W / 27.270611, -82.526194).
Upon arrival, we met the owners, John and Teresa, chatted with them for a bit, unpacked, and then headed out to the Publix Grocery Store. It was a large supermarket. One of the employees was a young, friendly Latino guy, and I struck up a conversation with him. He said he was from Honduras and learning English—yet he certainly knew enough to carry on a perfectly good conversation with me. I wished him luck.
Most homes in the area have such netting, which allows sitting inside, without being attacked by mosquitoes
Catherine was thrilled with the VRBO. It was located on a canal called Phillippi Creek and sat on an island. There was a heated pool, an outdoor kitchen, and plenty of outdoor dining and sitting areas. Catherine went for a swim in the pool and then headed to bed early. I was told that, very rarely, it was possible to see alligators in the canal—something to keep in mind. The in rental included kayaks, which Catherine had planned to use, but after looking at the Mercury water and the possibility of alligators, she changed her mind! BTW, we paid about $1,620 US for 9 nights and most likely extra for cleaning.
In Phillippi Creek very rarely alligators appeared, but we did not see any, only some lizards and two black snakes
In addition to reading newspapers and other materials on my Chromebook, I brought along one book: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. Interestingly, I was first recommended this book during my first, very memorable French River canoe and camping trip in 1995. I read it the same year and found it absolutely excellent. The author manages to create such realistic twelfth-century characters and atmosphere, and depicts medieval life and architecture so vividly, that I almost became part of the book. Twenty-nine years later, I decided to read it again—and it was a very good idea, as I enjoyed it just as much as the first time. In fact, the following year I picked up the second part of the trilogy, World Without End, which I hope to read and enjoy as well.
Saturday, April 13, 2024
Errands, architectural nostalgia, accidental encounters with automotive science fiction, a brush with island luxury, and a very civilized evening by the water.
Sarasota, Florida
After a good night’s rest, we left around 11:00 a.m. for Dollar Tree and Aldi’s—proof that even on vacation one must occasionally behave responsibly—before finding our way to the downtown historic district. It was not quite what we had expected, but it was still enjoyable to wander around and admire the old Florida bungalows from the 1920s. Many of them were beautifully maintained and oozed charm, making it easy to imagine a slower, less air-conditioned Florida of long ago.
Is this a boat? A car? A motorcycle?
On our way back to the car, we passed a vehicle towing what we initially assumed was some kind of water toy—perhaps a jet ski or something inflatable and impractical. After chatting with the driver, however, we learned that it was actually a rare, one-of-a-kind prototype: a strange but fascinating cross between a car, a motorcycle, and a three-wheeled contraption straight out of a mad inventor’s garage. According to the owner, it got an eye-watering 156 miles per gallon. After Catherine retraced her steps back to the park to look for her dropped cell phone (a recurring travel subplot), we ended up talking more with the vehicle’s current owner. He kindly invited us into his garage, where we were able to take photos of this tiny yet powerful “hot rod.” Not exactly what we had planned for the day, but easily one of its highlights.
By mid-afternoon, we decided to head over to Longboat Key. We drove about 15 miles along the island, flanked by private beaches, resorts, and golf courses. Along the way, I spotted several high-end sports cars, including a bright yellow Rolls-Royce and a Bentley—vehicles that clearly cost more than our entire vacation, flights included—during our lifetime. We were lucky enough to find a parking spot at Whitney Beach. Unfortunately, it had no facilities whatsoever, but since it was hot and sunny, we located a quiet patch in the dunes under a small palm tree and made ourselves comfortable. After a picnic, Catherine went for a walk and then took a quick swim.
Truth be told, Whitney Beach did not impress us greatly—mainly because of the lack of facilities and rather modest dunes. We met someone who enthusiastically recommended Coquina Beach just up the coast, but when we entered it into the GPS, it showed over 40 minutes of driving time, thanks to Saturday evening traffic. That suggestion was politely declined by common sense. Instead, we slowly made our way back down Longboat Key, looping through Armand Circle, which was absolutely buzzing with sidewalk diners, crowds of people, and the general hum of weekend activity.
We could enjoy this view from our VRBO in Sarasota
The drive back to our VRBO was calm and pleasant. Once home, we had a drink down by the water, enjoying the warm evening and the gentle sense that the day had unfolded exactly as it should. Later, we retreated to our room, where we continued reading and talking until midnight—relaxed, content, and already wondering what small surprise the next day might bring.
Sunday, April 14, 2024
A peaceful Sunday of slow living, a memorable Latin Mass, world news absurdities, sunset beaches, and an unexpected shark encounter—followed by fine dining à la Aldi.
Christ the King Catholic Church in Sarasota
It turned out to be yet another beautiful day. Catherine was up at 7:30 a.m., and I followed shortly afterward, proving once again that vacation mornings are best approached gently. Our hosts went to church and later headed out on a boat ride with friends to Venice, so we had the place to ourselves for the entire day. We decided to stay close to home: exercise a bit, swim, write the blog, and attend the 12:30 p.m. Mass at a nearby church—Christ the King Catholic Church (27°15'57.4"N 82°31'44.9"W / 27.265944, -82.529139).
A perfect place to have lunch and use my Chromebook
The church was described as conservative, and according to its website, both women and men were expected to dress modestly. This turned out to be more challenging than anticipated, as Catherine had no long-sleeved shirts with her—unless one counts a heavy jacket, which she ultimately wore, bravely sacrificing comfort for propriety in the Florida heat. The Mass itself was traditional and entirely in Latin, with the priest facing the altar rather than the congregation. The sermon, however, was excellent and delivered in superb English. Even Catherine enjoyed listening to it and, remarkably, voiced no complaints afterward. Altogether, the Mass lasted about 90 minutes. I believe it was the first traditional Latin Mass I had ever attended. Interestingly, many elements reminded me of services I attended—or served—as an altar boy in the 1970s. I wish such services were more common in Ontario.
Turtle Beach
After returning home, we had lunch: shrimp, salad, broccoli, and hot salsa. Catherine took a nap, while I caught up on the latest news concerning the drone and missile attack by Iran on Israel. The consensus seemed to be that the attack was so ineffective that it quickly became the subject of jokes—some even from Iranians themselves. One quip claimed, “Frankly, if they had thrown cucumbers, the casualties would have been higher.” Israelis, too, were making light of the situation. Journalist Matthew Kalman summed it up perfectly by saying, “First direct flights from Iran to Israel since 1979.”
At around 6:00 p.m., we drove to Point of Rocks Beach, but it turned out to be an extremely posh area, lined with massive, beautiful mansions and an impressive number of “No Parking” signs. Clearly, the residents valued both privacy and strict enforcement. So we continued south to Turtle Beach, where there was ample parking, small coastal dunes, and quite a few people gathered—many clearly waiting for the sunset.
It was so exciting to watch this guy catch a shark! I have everything on video, posted to YouTube and of course it's also here
While Catherine went off to inspect a nearby rental building, I found myself watching a couple managing two fishing rods on the beach. Curious about what they might be hoping to catch, I was just about to ask when the fishing line suddenly went taut. The man and his girlfriend began reeling in whatever was on the hook, and after some effort, they pulled it onto the beach. It was a shark. After taking several photos and videos, the fisherman carefully removed the hook and released the shark back into the ocean. It was a fantastic experience—not just for me, but for many others who gathered around to witness the spectacle.
The fishing setup was impressive and completely different from anything used on lakes in Ontario: a heavy-duty rod and reel, thick line, a massive hook, and a cooler filled with sizable chunks of meat as bait. Since casting that far into the ocean is impossible, he also had a kayak—apparently used to paddle out, drop the baited hook, and then return to shore. Later, I did a quick search on shark fishing in Florida and discovered that there are many techniques and regulations governing it. Still, I don’t think shark fishing would ever replace freshwater fishing in Ontario for me—if only there were more fish.
On our way back to the car, we chatted with a very friendly photographer. Originally from Trinidad and Tobago, he turned out to be a commissioned officer in the U.S. Armed Forces.
View from our VRBO in Sarasota on Phillippi Creek
Back at our rental, we enjoyed a light supper accompanied by plenty of excellent red wine, purchased at the extremely exclusive establishment known as Aldi—for the astonishing price of $3.99 per bottle. While we ate, Shadow the dog waited patiently, clearly hoping for leftovers. He received none, but he was generously compensated with plenty of petting, which he seemed to accept as a reasonable consolation prize. Catherine mentioned they had not been transparent about a dog being on the premises, especially one that barked, which is always a nemesis for her, but Shadow eventually “kind of grew “on her.
Monday, April 15, 2024
A neighborhood walk, accidental Tesla discovery, birds with attitude, beach hopping, and the continuing tragedy of missing shrimp—softened by affordable wine.
Coquina Island
Another beautiful day in Peaceful Paradise. We were up and out by 9:30 a.m., checking out the neighborhood before the heat settled in and made ambition questionable. We decided to explore the island we were staying on—Coquina Island—and very quickly reached a firm conclusion: this was most definitely not an uninhabited island. It turned out to be a mix of old and new homes, including some multiplex houses, giving it a pleasantly eclectic feel.
Coquina Island
In one driveway we spotted a very unusual vehicle that looked like something straight out of a military convoy. At the time, we didn’t quite register what it was. Only later did we realize that we had just seen—apparently for the first time in our lives—a Tesla Cybertruck. So yes, history was made, and we didn’t even take a photo.
Coquina Island
Several new homes were under construction, and many of the trees were covered in air plants, including ferns and Spanish moss, which gave the whole area a slightly prehistoric, swamp-meets-paradise look. We noticed a couple of wonderful, small crane-like birds strolling confidently across people’s lawns, along with a nipping cat who seemed to believe the island belonged entirely to him. We also met a woman from Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, who had moved here in 2011—back when the Canadian dollar was strong and optimism ran high.
Coquina Island
While driving to Lido Beach
On our way to Lido Beach
We returned to Peaceful Paradise for a delicious shrimp-ring lunch (which, sadly, had already become a disappearing species at Aldi’s). While Catherine did yoga and went for a swim in the pool, I exercised and caught up on the Wall Street Journal, proving once again that everyone relaxes differently.
On our way to Lido Beach we met this rather tame heron
Around 2:30 p.m. we left for Lido Beach, impulsively stopping en route at the Bird Island pull-over just past the bridge. We walked a short trail under the bridge, which was surprisingly pleasant and shaded. There we encountered a large, rather tame crane who was hanging around a couple fishing nearby—clearly hoping to steal their bait with minimal effort and maximum dignity.
We continued toward Lido Beach but found a nice parking spot along the road with a convenient walkway to the shore. The beach itself was lovely, not overly crowded, and the ocean was fairly calm. There were several kinds of gulls, funny-looking sandpipers, and pigeons doing their usual pigeon business. Catherine went for a swim and then walked along the beach, while I stayed put, sunbathing and trying to photograph birds—especially pelicans—most of whom refused to cooperate.
At around 6:00 p.m. we drove farther down to Lido Beach and noticed the free trolley passing by. We decided to save that experience for another day, when time—and patience—would be on our side. At the very end of the key, we were rewarded with a delightful surprise: wonderful groves of old trees set on sugar-sand beaches, calm bay waters, and a sense that we had stumbled upon a well-kept secret. As if that weren’t enough, there were change rooms with bathrooms, picnic tables, grills, plenty of shade, and—miraculously—free parking. We made a mental note to return in a couple of days, hopefully catching the trolley from that very spot.
Lido Beach
Unfortunately, on the way home we had to stop at Aldi’s. And even more unfortunately, they were completely out of shrimp rings—the staple of our recent lunches and, apparently, a hot commodity. Fortunately, they still had plenty of the $3.99 Winking Owl California Cabernet red wine, proving that while shrimp may be fleeting, priorities can remain intact.
Lido Beach
Back to Peaceful Paradise for a Thai-inspired dinner, a very respectable sunset, and another evening feeling entirely justified in calling this place exactly what it was: peaceful—and pretty close to paradise.
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Venice in the heat, historic homes, peacocks with presence, shark-tooth dreams (and disappointments), and a margarita-shaped victory over the sun.
Venice
We skipped our usual morning walk today but made up for it with a solid workout—about 1 hour and 40 minutes—after which Catherine went for a refreshing swim. Feeling virtuous and energetic, we decided to leave a bit earlier and head south to Venice.
Venice
The drive was straightforward and uneventful (always a small victory), and we parked near a park in the historic district. It was very hot and relentlessly sunny. The surrounding residential area featured many charming homes from the 1920s, giving the neighborhood a distinctly old-Florida feel. While wandering around, we discovered an unusual passageway that suddenly led to a completely different style of housing—1950s-era homes built for the military. The contrast was striking and unexpected, like stepping through a time portal.
Venice
We struck up a conversation with an 80-year-old gentleman originally from Michigan. He told us he hated the weather there, moved to Florida in his 30s, met his wife, and then stayed put for the next 50 years—clearly a man who knew when he had made the right decision. In his garage he proudly showed us a beautiful antique car, meticulously maintained and still roadworthy, although it did now have a brand-new engine—proof that even antiques sometimes need a little modernization.
Venice
There were three churches in the area, one of which had particularly beautiful church bells. Our new friend, however, found them a bit too enthusiastic. He mentioned that he had complained about their volume—and to his great satisfaction, the church had actually lowered it. Proof that sometimes, miracles do happen.
Venice
Interestingly, the nearby park had a picnic table and a play area, but no bathroom—an omission that felt especially cruel given the heat. As the sun continued to assert its dominance, we decided to drive to the main street of the downtown historic district. We immediately found parking, and Catherine seized the opportunity to demonstrate her impressive parallel parking skills, which deserved applause (and possibly a small trophy) or a celebration margarita!
Venice
The main street was lined with plenty of kitschy beach shops selling shells, knick-knacks, shark teeth, and hundreds of other colorful, gaudy, and wildly overpriced items. We exercised great restraint and only bought a few postcards—which I still insist on mailing to friends, along with stamps purchased later at a nearby, very large post office.
A Margarita (or two) in such a hot weather was a wonderful idea!
Venice Hotel
By this point, the heat had won. We retreated into a corner bar for happy hour, where I treated myself to a frozen margarita served in a souvenir cup—hydration, Florida-style. Across the road there was, to our great relief, a park with public restrooms. We retrieved our lunch from the car and enjoyed it in the shade near a splash pad, feeling both clever and practical.
Catherine noticed a plaque on a building across the street—it turned out to be the historic Venice Hotel, now operating as an assisted living facility. We went inside and were kindly given a short tour by one of the employees. Catherine immediately fell in love with the matching peacocks displayed in the main hall, which seemed perfectly aware of their own magnificence. Above the fireplace was a proverb that caught our attention: “If youth knew what age would crave, it would both get and save.”
A gentle reminder that younger people might want to plan ahead—advice that is always easier to appreciate in retrospect.
Caspersen Beach
Next, we drove to Caspersen Beach, famous for shark-tooth hunting. The beach itself was small, with dark sand, plenty of rocks and shells, and a surprising number of well-prepared beachcombers, all intensely focused on the ground at their feet. Occasionally, someone would find a genuinely impressive shark tooth, but the vast majority were tiny. I chatted with a couple of experienced “searchers,” who generously rewarded me with a few souvenir shark teeth. Catherine, meanwhile, talked with a woman from New Jersey who enthusiastically praised the beaches back home—proof that you can take the person out of New Jersey, but you can’t take New Jersey out of the conversation.
Mussel Tree, a unique tree growing only on that beach. Instead of fruits, it bears, as you can see, mussels!
We stayed longer than planned and ended up abandoning our steak-dinner ambitions in favor of a quick bratwurst eaten down by the water—simple, satisfying, and very much in the spirit of the day.
Caspersen Beach--shark teeth collectors and the Mussel Tree
I should add that before this adventure, I had imagined shark teeth to be… well, shark-sized—large, dramatic, and necklace-worthy. The reality was quite different: most were less than one centimeter long. Still, Catherine was determined to give them to her grandkids, and I happily passed them along. Fast forward to the future: the Munchkins were, unsurprisingly, not particularly impressed either.
Wednesday, April 17, 2024
Farmers’ market discoveries, an unexpected mansion tour, Siesta Beach perfection, and steaks at sunset.
A tour in Phillippi Estate Park
Before 9:00 a.m. we walked over to Phillippi Estate Park to check out the Wednesday Farmers’ Market. Along the way we discovered—quite by chance—that there was a guided tour of the Phillippi Estate Mansion (27°16'15.9"N 82°31'59.1"W / 27.271083, -82.533083) scheduled for 10:00 a.m. Since fate had clearly made the decision for us, we strolled along the pathways and then joined a small group of ladies already waiting for the tour.
Phillippi Estate Park
The tour turned out to be extremely interesting. We learned that the mansion is constantly rented out for wedding venues, which makes perfect sense—it is both elegant and beautifully situated.
Phillippi Estate Park
The Phillippi Estate Mansion in Sarasota, Florida, was built in 1916 by Chicago millionaire Edson Keith Jr. It was designed to catch cooling sea breezes and is an important part of the history of Phillippi Creek. The creek itself was heavily dredged for agricultural purposes, creating an extensive canal system that transformed the area for farming by the Palmer family in the 1920s.
Phillippi Estate Tour-our guide and Catherine in the mirror
After the tour we made a quick pass through the farmers’ market stands and exercised admirable restraint: we bought one large tomato (destined to become lunch) and four limes—essential ingredients for margaritas, which we now considered a household staple. We then walked back to the VRBO, where I settled in with the Wall Street Journaland Catherine went for a refreshing dip in the pool.
If Catherine thinks that she is a good driver, this is the proof that she is NOT: first of all, she parks in the handicapped spot; secondly, she can't even park inside the parking spot! Later she claimed that she parked so askew deliberately: "If people see me parking like that, they will know that I AM handicapped." Well... certainly NOT physically...
After lunch and a bit of rest, we headed out at around 3:00 p.m. for the famous Siesta Beach. The beach was enormous, with ample parking, plenty of facilities, and several food stands. We noticed sheriff’s four-wheelers patrolling the sand, as well as lifeguards on duty (who officially signed off at 4:45 p.m.). The water was calm and safe, indicated by a green flag—always reassuring.
Enjoying Siesta Beach
Most beachgoers were impressively well equipped, complete with chairs, umbrellas, and elaborate sun shelters. We, on the other hand, were not—but that did not stop us from thoroughly enjoying the beach. We took long walks, swam in the water, and watched seagulls, sandpipers, and pelicans go about their very serious beach business.
Siesta Beach
As we were getting ready to leave, we discovered that there was free yoga taking place right where we had been sitting. We watched several people arrive carrying yoga mats, looking calm, flexible, and far more prepared than we were.
We made it back in time to enjoy a beautiful sunset and finally grilled our long-awaited dinner: steaks, mushrooms, and asparagus. A very satisfying end to a full day.
Thursday, April 18, 2024
Leaf blowers at dawn, wildlife encounters, trolley loops, and a perfectly timed sunset.
Red Bug Slough Preserve
By 8:00 a.m. the neighborhood was already wide awake. Leaf blowers roared, lawn mowers hummed, and to complete the symphony, the VRBO owner started using a sledgehammer down by the waterfront. So much for “Peaceful Paradise”! Clearly, it was time to escape.
Red Bug Slough Preserve
Catherine got ready at record speed, and we headed out to the 72-acre Red Bug Slough Preserve—a remnant of natural Florida tucked into suburban Sarasota. The preserve featured several miles of hiking trails, a small playground, picnic shelters, and a fishing dock. It was close by and, although much of the trail was open, hot, and sunny, the walk was well worth it.
Red Bug Slough Preserve
Along the way we met a woman walking her husky who had recently moved from Maryland, and we spotted plenty of wildlife: many turtles, several lizards, and two black snakes, each about three feet long. They kept to themselves, and we did the same—mutual respect all around.
Red Bug Slough Preserve-Black Snake (Black Mamba???)
We returned to the VRBO around noon, where Catherine prepared lunch and, of course, margaritas. After a short rest, we left again at 3:00 p.m. for South Lido Beach. After parking, we hopped on the free Sarasota Trolley, which took us on a loop through downtown Sarasota along Main Street and back to the park.
Sarasota
We enjoyed the ride so much that we stayed on for no fewer than three continuous loops. Our driver, Jay, had a playlist of his favorite music that made the ride even better. We chatted with him about American politics, a world that often seems on fire, and the many terrible car accidents he had witnessed over the years. When we finally got off, we tipped him generously and said our goodbyes.
Trolley Bus
We retrieved our drinks from the car and sat on a bench in the park, facing a bay or canal glowing in the light of the setting sun. The moment felt perfectly timed—one of those small, unplanned highlights that travel delivers when you least expect it.
Sarasota
Before dark, we headed back to the VRBO, where we barbecued Aldi’s frozen fish and chips (proof that not every meal needs to be gourmet) and spent the evening enjoying the beautiful sunset and the tranquil view of canal lights shimmering in the water.
Friday, April 19, 2024
Sleeping in, alligator warning signs, educational emergency buttons, sunset beach crowds, and budget wine excellence.
We both slept in—especially Catherine, who made it all the way to 8:30 am. We decided to skip Arlington and Rothbahn Parks, judging one too commercialized and the other simply too far away. Instead, we returned to nearby Phillippi Park, where I proudly spent about ten minutes driving the Toyota RAV4 before surrendering the wheel.
We walked the Hammock Loop Trail, which was lush, tropical, semi-shaded, and very welcome in the +30°C heat. After an hour, we returned to the VRBO for swimming, reading, lunch, and some expertly executed relaxation.
At 3:00 pm we headed to Oscar Scherer State Park. We were immediately surprised to see that every campsite was occupied—including the pricey glamping tents. The riverfront sites were marked with bright green alligator-warning signs, which felt less like information and more like a personal challenge. Catherine promptly declared that she would never camp here in a tent—only in a camper. Message received.
We walked the short Lester Finley Trail along the river, which featured small metal boxes with buttons. We assumed they were emergency call stations in case of alligator encounters. Eventually, Catherine pressed one, and instead of help, we were treated to an educational recording about the ecosystem. I was relieved this was not during an actual emergency—being eaten by an alligator while listening to a lecture on its dietary habits would have been deeply ironic. Later, we sat on a fishing dock hoping to see an alligator, but they were apparently busy elsewhere.
We continued to Nokomis Beach to watch the sunset. The sand wasn’t quite Siesta-level perfection, but it was still lovely. Shark teeth could apparently be found there, but we left treasure hunting for another lifetime. We returned home by 8:15 pm, chatted with our hosts John and Teresa, and enjoyed a Hawaiian-style dinner accompanied by an excellent $3.99 red wine—proof that happiness does not have to be expensive.
Our last full day in Sarasota was another beautiful one. Despite waking early, we didn’t head out until late morning. Catherine swam and did yoga while I read the weekend Wall Street Journal, each of us fully committed to our personal wellness program.
Myakka River State Park
We ventured to the Sarasota Memorial Cemetery—so close that driving felt slightly lazy, but the heat justified it. The cemetery was peaceful and striking, with Spanish moss hanging everywhere. We wandered among the niches and benches, reading names, dates, and poems. One inscription stood out, and later research revealed it was based on Henry Van Dyke’s I Am Standing Upon the Seashore (which I reproduced below at the end of the blog) *. Learning that it belonged to Stephen E. Fahrer, who passed away in 2008 at 34 after a long battle with ALS, added a deeply moving layer to the visit.
Myakka River State Park
Errands followed: Trader Joe’s for IPA beer (sweet but unmistakably IPA), Cotija cheese (apparently a Trader Joe’s exclusive), and the comforting realization that all our favorite stores awaited us in Clearwater. Aldi’s followed, then lunch at home.
Myakka River State Park
With our hosts expecting a large dinner gathering, we escaped to Myakka River State Park. Along the way, we passed farmlands dotted with goats and cows. Inside the park, a wrong turn led us to our first alligator sightings of the trip—two of them enthusiastically accepting bread from a local who repeatedly checked that I was not a ranger. He addressed us as “madam” and “sir,” which Catherine found endlessly amusing.
Myakka River State Park-Canopy Walk
We then tackled the canopy walk. Against expectations, I crossed the suspension bridge and climbed the 76-foot tower to the top—and back down—while chatting with fellow visitors ranging from stunt professionals to cheerful LGBT travelers in full rainbow attire.
Myakka River State Park-Canopy Walk
Further along the park road, we spotted at least a dozen alligators lounging and swimming, plus birds and deer (27°14'44.1"N 82°18'24.8"W / 27.245583, -82.306889). It felt uncannily like Africa. As sunset approached, we exited toward Siesta Beach, caught the trolley amid loud music and inebriated passengers, and eventually found ourselves blissfully alone for the ride back.
Myakka River State Park
Back at the VRBO, we said goodbye to John and Teresa, petted Shadow the dog, enjoyed a light dinner, and raised a glass of “The Winking Owl” to a successful trip.
Finally, a word on Catherine’s driving: absolutely excellent. At one point she even drove briefly against traffic in the left lane, astonishing nearby drivers—perhaps prompting them to wonder whether Louisiana follows British road rules. Since she preferred to drive and I preferred her relaxed, I gladly assumed the role of navigator and moral support. In any case, she had read that Floridians were some of the worst drivers in the USA so she felt she was fitting in nicely!
Sunday, April 21, 2024
Farewell to Peaceful (or Not-So-Peaceful) Paradise, Sunshine Skyway Bridge, Scientology Sighting, Clearwater Bay Arrival
This heron was a frequent visitor at our new motel
Today was our departure day from our very peaceful paradise—although Catherine insisted on calling it NOT-so-peaceful paradise. We had said our goodbyes the previous evening, as the owners were leaving early for church in the morning. Catherine did her exercises and enjoyed one last lap in the pool, after which we packed up and cleaned the place thoroughly, despite the rather hefty $170 cleaning fee. With everything ready, we programmed our next destination into the GPS: Clearwater Beach.
The impressive Sunshine Skyway bridge
Before we left, I made a quick video about our accommodation:
Unfortunately, the route was not exactly the scenic coastal drive Catherine had envisioned, but it did offer us a look into the interior of Pinellas County. We stopped at a rest area before crossing the Sunshine Skyway toll bridge, had a picnic, and made use of the facilities—namely, the bathrooms. These were located at the top of what felt like a 50-foot-long ramp and featured solid steel doors with massive locks. Catherine concluded that all public bathrooms in Florida were rather disgusting, a conclusion she seemed quite confident about. We paid our $2.75 toll in cash and then drove over the stunning Sunshine Skyway Bridge, which truly lived up to its reputation.
The Church of Scientology Building in Clearwater, one of the biggest in the USA
Unfortunately, instead of turning left onto Gulfshore Drive as planned, we continued straight on Highway 19. This took us through what I can only describe as the heart of “common-man Florida.” We bypassed St. Petersburg and eventually drove through downtown Clearwater, where we were struck by a massive, palace-like building topped with a cross. Later, I discovered that it was the headquarters of the infamous Church of Scientology. Apparently, many years ago the church purchased some 200 acres downtown, including this flagship building, which had once been an iconic hotel. Catherine was reminded of the Mormon campus in Salt Lake City and wondered aloud whether they offered tours.
Catherine enjoying a drink at our new hotel in Clearwater. The windows of our motel room are just above her
We found our accommodation fairly easily, though Catherine grew concerned when the VRBO instructions for keypad entry had not yet arrived. Miraculously, as soon as we pulled up, the code and instructions appeared on her phone. The place was the 629 Bay Motel, [629 Bay Motel, 629 Bay Esplanade, Clearwater Beach, FL 33767, United States (27°16'14.2"N 82°31'34.3"W / 27.270611, -82.526194)]. We were very happy with the accommodation. Our room (number 5B) had windows facing the bay, along with a patio dock furnished with a large table, chairs, and two loungers. The motel offered free Wi-Fi, which became my lifeline to the outside world, as my cell phone did not work in the United States. It was an old Florida-style motel, clean and bright, with a white interior and a perfectly adequate kitchen—allowing us to save tons of money by not eating out. There was a faint whiff of mildew (most likely due to past flooding from hurricanes combined with Florida’s high summer humidity), so we opened the windows and let the fresh air do its job. We paid for 5 nights about $650 US.
Now you see us....
While sitting outside on the dock, I noticed a group of people on jet skis just across the small bay. They were operating out of a rental place called Idle Speed Watersports Jet Ski Rentals & Tours. For a moment, I considered joining one of their tours, but my enthusiasm was limited—and the price fairly high.
... now you don't!
A few hours later, I saw the same group returning, and suddenly one of the jet skis overturned! I still have no idea how they managed that, especially just meters from the dock. It reminded me of a story I once saw on TV about a teenage girl who somehow managed to overturn her car—in her driveway. She was deeply embarrassed, and no one could quite figure out how she pulled off such a feat.
A perfect location to have our meals!
The afternoon was cloudy and relatively cool. We headed to Aldi’s for one last grocery run, stocking up on the ever-so-expensive Winking Owl red wine and our reliable microwave standby meals. The evening was quiet, and so was the night. We enjoyed a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.
Monday, April 22, 2024
Windy Start, Motel Backstories, Accidental Nap Stop, Anti-Tourist Tarpon Springs
Our motel in Clearwater
We were up very early. It was windy and looked like rain. Catherine did her Tai Chi yoga and then went to check out the beach, while I settled in with the Wall Street Journal. We lingered around the motel until mid-afternoon and had a chance to speak with the property manager—a very nice blonde native Floridian. She told us that she had once stayed at the motel as a guest, in our room no less, and later befriended the owner (apparently of Polish origin), which eventually led to her getting the job. She also mentioned that finding cleaning staff was extremely difficult—something we were not entirely surprised to hear.
View of our motel
Catherine requested a blender, which materialized later that afternoon in a sealed Walmart box, as if delivered by some benevolent retail fairy.
Our Bay Motel and the Toyota RAV4
Eventually, we headed off toward Tarpon Springs, stopping first in Dunedin, home of the Toronto Blue Jays’ Spring Training. Catherine walked around the wharf while I loitered nearby. Back on the road again, Catherine became sleepy, so before reaching Tarpon Springs we pulled into St. Petersburg College, parked in a shady spot, and took a perfectly respectable, hour-long nap.
When we finally reached Tarpon Springs, we discovered that it looked like an overpriced, overly touristic wharf, with a strong Greek influence and parking that was ridiculously expensive. We drove on instead, eventually finding ourselves in a much more authentic working-class area, with old boats, fishing nets, and a general air of real life. I spotted a Tiki Bar restaurant with an empty parking lot, and we pulled in hopefully. Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed on Mondays, but a row of chairs sat outside, overlooking a peaceful waterway. We sat there for a while, and Catherine struck up a conversation with an interesting woman who had moved from Philadelphia to Florida ten years earlier. She worked as a cake decorator and had bought a condominium at Sunset Beach.
Eventually, we headed back to our room for a late sunset, a glass of wine, and dinner on the deck. Later in the evening, a loud group took over “our” spot, but around midnight someone asked them to be quiet—and they promptly left. Order restored.
Enjoying the sunset at our Bay Motel in Clearwater, FL
The day started out bright and sunny. We walked down to the main street, Mandalay Boulevard, and caught the trolley, which only went as far as Island Parkway and back. It was fun, and there were very few people on board. This was the Jolly Trolley, and amusingly enough, it actually passed within about two meters of our motel—and our car. Nevertheless, we chose to get off on Main Street and walk back, just for the pleasure of it.
Clearwater
After a nice lunch on the deck, we took a nap, then had coffee in our room and headed south by car, past St. Pete Beach, toward Pass-a-Grille. Along the way we passed numerous beach communities and an impressive number of beachfront mansions. We stopped at Sunset Beach to walk the boardwalk, only to discover that it was closed due to damage caused by last year’s hurricane. We chatted with two women there; one of them was from Ontario and had attended Glendon College in Toronto, part of York University and primarily French-language.
Clearwater, FL
We retraced our route, briefly stopping at Dollar Tree (as one does), and arrived back at our motel just in time for a perfect sunset. Naturally, this called for a glass of wine and a photo-op. We followed that with a delicious, satisfying dinner, rounding off yet another very fine Florida day.
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
Dolphin sighting at breakfast, an epic trolley ride (with unintended sightseeing), Clearwater’s Scientology zone, sunset beach wedding, and dockside wine 🍷
Another beautiful day at Bay Apartment number 5B. As we were sitting at the dock in front of our room, enjoying the calm morning, we were treated to a surprise visit from a dolphin swimming lazily in the bay. Shortly afterward, two other guests from the motel joined us—young women originally from Lebanon and currently living in Washington, DC. When I mentioned our trips to Cuba, they immediately said that visiting Cuba was high on their wish list. This led to a lively ten-minute conversation about travel, history, and the island, after which I gave them my calling card with links to my many Cuba blogs.
Sunset in Clearwater
We then headed out to catch the south beaches trolley, which happened to pass by just as we arrived at the stop—perfect timing. We hopped on and embarked on what turned out to be a more than two-hour trolley adventure. This trolley was different from the others we had taken: the windows could not be opened, the seating configuration was unusual, with a raised step-up section at the back, and there was a rear exit door.
I thought that pirates were only off the coast of Somalia. Apparently not so-this pirat ship lurked close to the beach, waiting the for tide to suddenly attack the beachgoers and relieve them of their valuables. Thus, I always kept an eye on this ship!
The route itself was somewhat confusing. We first headed north, then made a U-turn, then continued toward Pier 60 and down almost the same route we had driven by car the day before. The trolley then made another U-turn at St. Pete Beach to head back north, which meant we never actually got to experience Pass-a-Grille, the quaint community at the very end of the key. Catherine thought we were heading back toward Mandalay Drive, but instead we veered into the City of Clearwater and stopped at a rather decrepit bus depot—directly across from the massive Scientology complex at (27°57'48.1"N 82°47'57.3"W / 27.963361, -82.799250).
The Church of Scientology building in Clearwater, FL
Catherine bravely used the public restroom there and later declared it the worst bathroom she had encountered since living in Europe—a distinction that does not come lightly. While waiting, I observed a steady stream of nearly identical-looking individuals, resembling airline flight attendants, approaching the Scientology building. After waiting silently in front of the entrance for several seconds, each was admitted inside.
The bus driver explained to Catherine that the Church of Scientology had purchased most of the downtown Clearwater properties, including many former businesses now reduced to fake storefronts with no visible commercial activity. He also pointed out the fleet of impressive “flag buses” used to transport church members, as well as the historic Harrison Hotel, where Scientology dignitaries reportedly stay.
We then headed back over the causeway, and Catherine assumed we were returning to our original pickup location. Instead, to her growing disbelief, we continued through a traffic circle and started heading south—back toward St. Pete Beach. At this point she asked the driver to let us off at Pier 60. From there, we walked back to our room in the full heat of the day, finally arriving around 2:00 pm.
A lot of people come to observe the sunset on the beach
Once back, we had a quick margarita lunch and promptly fell asleep, waking up only around 4:30 pm. After that much-needed recovery, we headed to the beach, just a five-minute walk away. We set up our “found” chairs and umbrella and were rewarded with an absolutely stunning sunset, complete with a pirate ship and a sailboat silhouetted against the sky. We also witnessed a beach wedding and a very enthusiastic—and noisy—family photo shoot.
Darkness fell quickly once the sun dipped into the Gulf of Mexico, and like most of the other beachgoers, we made our way back to our table on the wharf. There, we enjoyed a nice glass of wine and dinner. I lingered outside until about 10:30 pm before finally retreating indoors, as the evening air had turned noticeably cooler.
Catherine watching the sunset
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Sunrise over the wharf, dolphins on a video call, snakebirds up close, Pier 60 street theatre, and our final Florida sunset
Catherine awoke at 6:30 am to an amazing sunrise. She stood out on the wharf with her coffee, enjoying the peaceful moment as the sky slowly changed colours over the bay. We had originally planned to take the coastal trolley to Tarpon Springs, where we would get off and enjoy a Greek lunch on the wharf, but it seemed like a bit too much hassle—especially the walk over to the pickup point on the causeway. In the end, we decided to spend our last full day simply enjoying the wharf and the area around us.
Catherine did her exercises while I was on a live video call with Chris, my friend in Poland. Mid-conversation, I suddenly spotted a dolphin swimming by. Chris saw it too, through the camera, which made for a rather surreal international wildlife sighting. I quickly called out to Catherine, and she managed to see the dolphin gliding along the edge of the wharf as well. In addition, I observed several anhingas, sometimes called snakebirds.
The word anhinga comes from a'ñinga in the Brazilian Tupi language and means “devil bird” or “snake bird.” The origin of the name becomes obvious when they swim: only the neck appears above water, making the bird look like a snake ready to strike. Indeed, I was able to observe exactly this behaviour.
Anhingas, unlike ducks, ospreys, and pelicans—which coat their feathers with oils from the uropygial gland—do not have waterproof feathers. As a result, their bodies become saturated when submerged, while their flight feathers are only slightly less wettable. This explains their familiar habit of basking in the sun with wings fully outstretched. Their dense bones, wetted plumage, and neutral buoyancy allow them to fully submerge while hunting underwater prey. However, anhingas cannot fly any significant distance with soaked feathers; when they try, they flap vigorously while “running” across the surface of the water for a short distance, usually to escape a perceived threat.
Like cormorants, they often perch on fallen trees, logs, or rocks near the water’s edge, wings spread and feathers fanned out in a semicircular shape, facing away from the sun. This posture helps them dry their feathers and absorb heat. Because an anhinga in this drying position resembles a male turkey, it has earned the colloquial names “water turkey” or “swamp turkey” (Wikipedia).
After a nap, we once again headed to the nearby beach, this time properly equipped with sand chairs, an umbrella, and drinks. It was a little cooler than the previous day, but the sunset was just as stunning. Catherine walked in the opposite direction toward Pier 60, where she encountered a crowd gathered around a street performance. People were being pulled from the audience to participate in a break-dance demonstration. Among them was a small Elon Musk look-alike—at least 35 years younger—who barely cracked a smile. Despite his stoic performance, he was awarded a certificate and a $20 bill, which he examined very carefully to make sure it was not counterfeit.
Once again, we took silhouette photos of the disappearing sun. Nearby, a young woman asked to borrow my Canadian Tilley hat for her photo shoot. It turned out she was born in Massachusetts, but her mother was Polish and had lived in Warsaw—yet another small-world moment.
After sunset, like everyone else, we walked back to our Bayview Motel and quickly settled at the table on the wharf to enjoy a glass of wine and our final dinner in Florida. Earlier, Catherine had checked us in on her phone for our Sun Country flight 1914, departing the next day at 12:40 pm for Minneapolis. She also checked the travel time to St. Petersburg/Clearwater (PIE) Airport and decided that we would pack in the morning and leave at 9:30 am.
Friday, April 26, 2024
Early packing, smooth departure, birthplace of scheduled air transportation, Tilley-hat recognition, mailed postcards, and a noisy flight back to reality
We got up early to clean and pack before our 12:40 pm departure from PIE (St. Petersburg/Clearwater) Airport. It was another beautiful Florida day, but with a checkout deadline of 10:00 am looming, we left at 9:30. The drive to the airport was short and smooth, car return was handled quickly and efficiently, and we walked to the terminal with our suitcases, feeling rather proud of how well-timed everything was.
Inside the St. Petersburg – Clearwater International Airport I spotted a very interesting historical plaque, commemorating the Birthplace of Scheduled Transportation Plaque:
BIRTHPLACE OF SCHEDULED AIR TRANSPORTATION
The great airline industry, which now circles the earth, was born in Pinellas County, Florida, January 1, 1914, when the St. Petersburg – Tampa Airboat Line began regularly scheduled passenger and cargo service between these cities.
Here, in the county, Thomas W. Benoist, pioneer airplane builder, first proved to the world that the amazing new invention, the flying machine, could be put to work for the benefit of mankind.
Dedicated October 12, 1957 by Pinellas County, Florida to The St. Petersburg - Tampa Airboat Line.
Thomas W. Benoist, Airplane Builder
Percival E. Fansler. General Manager
Antony Jannus, Pilot
Jay Dee Smith, Chief Engineer
A. C. Pheil, First Passenger
and to
All the Airlines of the World
While waiting, we chatted with an American gentleman who immediately recognized my Tilley hat — proof, once again, that a good hat is both a fashion statement and a conversation starter. He even took a photo of us. A Pinellas County Sheriff’s deputy showed us a USPS mailbox, perfectly hidden behind closed doors, where I mailed my postcards — an oddly satisfying final ritual before leaving Florida.
We made it to the gate without any issues, and soon after we were airborne, heading back to Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport. The flight lasted exactly three hours and was so noisy that I developed a headache — perhaps my body’s way of protesting the end of our vacation. Upon arrival, we were picked up by a Southwest Prime Transportation van, and for $10 per person we were delivered directly to Catherine’s driveway, back to rainy Minnesota — a dramatic but fitting contrast to the sunshine we had just left behind.
Overall Trip Summary
This Florida trip turned out to be far richer and more varied than we had expected. What began as a warm-weather escape and Catherine’s birthday celebration slowly unfolded into a journey filled with wildlife encounters, spontaneous conversations, cultural curiosities, historical surprises, and moments of quiet reflection.
Sarasota offered us a balance of nature and comfort: canals and beaches, state parks and farmers’ markets, shaded trails and blazing sun. We walked among Spanish moss and air plants, watched dolphins and anhingas, and encountered alligators at a respectful distance. We discovered that Florida’s wildlife often appears when you least expect it — sometimes right outside your window, sometimes in the middle of a video call with Europe, but thankfully never in the pool!
Clearwater added a different rhythm altogether: bayfront mornings, trolley rides, long sunsets over the Gulf, and the peculiar atmosphere of a city quietly reshaped by the presence of Scientology. The Bayview Motel, with its dock, sunsets, and open water, became a front-row seat to daily life on the bay — jet skis, dolphins, wedding photo shoots, and the steady passing of boats at idle speed.
Throughout the trip, small human interactions stood out just as much as the scenery: brief conversations with strangers, shared observations, unexpected kindness, and the gentle realization that travel is often about listening as much as seeing. Whether it was a fisherman landing a shark, a bus driver explaining Clearwater’s oddities, or a stranger recognizing a well-worn hat, these moments stitched the days together.
In the end, the trip was not just about Florida’s beaches or sunshine, but about slowing down, observing, and enjoying the privilege of time — time to walk, to read, to talk, to swim, and to simply sit and watch the water change color as the sun disappeared each evening. This trip was absolutely worth it!
Regarding costs, we spent at least $2,300 for accommodation, over $700 for car rental, $100 for gas + tolls, over $500 for plane tickets (including our check-in luggage) and at least $700 for food (although we agreed that having the kitchen in each place saved us a lot of money; otherwise we would have had to eat out several times per day). Altogether the whole trip cost us about $4,000 US, or $2,000 per person. No wonder that Catherine said she she loved the trip very much, yet going to Cuba was a much better deal. And I agree!
I also made a very simple 2 minute video from our trip:
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight
to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me – not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
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We walked the short Lester Finley Trail along the river, which featured small metal boxes with buttons. We assumed they were emergency call stations in case of alligator encounters. Eventually, Catherine pressed one, and instead of help, we were treated to an educational recording about the ecosystem. I was relieved this was not during an actual emergency—being eaten by an alligator while listening to a lecture on its dietary habits would have been deeply ironic. Later, we sat on a fishing dock hoping to see an alligator, but they were apparently busy elsewhere.
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