Almost exactly a year ago, circumstances looked favorable for Ms. B. and me to plan
another trip to places far and wide with friends and regular travel
companions, Terry & Beth. They had been hoping to go
to the Caribbean for some time, so we committed to taking this trip with them. We made reservations, put money down, and decided that,
since it was a relatively short cruise (four days), we would visit St. Augustine for several days beforehand.
Then Brugger got laid off from her job at The Mailbox (the company where we'd worked together for well over a decade), and, concurrently, I lost my lucrative freelance gig with them. Still, since we'd lose a prohibitive amount of money if we opted to cancel, we figured we'd carry through with our plan. So...fookin' onward it is.
Thursday, February 6, 2025
Departure day. Brugger and I rose about dawn, tossed our stuff in the car, and drove from Martinsville to Terry & Beth's place in Kernersville. We wasted no time transferring our belongings to their vehicle and getting our asses on the road. The first part of the trip was easy enough; I found a cache at a rest area, and we stopped for a tolerable lunch at J's Corner in Columbia. Afterward, though, traffic picked up considerably, and we ran into a few snags, particularly around Jacksonville, FL, where a car had crashed and burned up real good. Still, in general, the drive wasn't intolerable, and we made decent time—for Ms. B. and me, a total of about nine hours. Once we arrived at our lodgings, a nice AirBnB in north St. Augustine, we unpacked and then set forth to find dinner, as the Great Starvation was upon us. We opted for a nice restaurant in the Spanish Quarter called Forgotten Tonic, which had great atmosphere and mostly delicious food. I had a big-ass burger with havarti cheese, bacon, pickles, and other goodies on a big old pretzel roll. Then a supply run at a nearby grocery store.
By now, we were all feeling pretty wiped, but there was a geocache only a quarter-mile from our lodgings, so I decided to walk after it. Interestingly, some fellow geocachers of our acquaintance from back home—known as The Border Reivers—had just been to the cache a couple of days ago. I signed the log beneath their entry, then returned to the AirBnB to pen this little portion of blog, and then crashed.
B-b-boom!
Then Brugger got laid off from her job at The Mailbox (the company where we'd worked together for well over a decade), and, concurrently, I lost my lucrative freelance gig with them. Still, since we'd lose a prohibitive amount of money if we opted to cancel, we figured we'd carry through with our plan. So...fookin' onward it is.
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| The logsheet of "Knock Knock Let Me In" (GCAZNPV) |
Thursday, February 6, 2025
Departure day. Brugger and I rose about dawn, tossed our stuff in the car, and drove from Martinsville to Terry & Beth's place in Kernersville. We wasted no time transferring our belongings to their vehicle and getting our asses on the road. The first part of the trip was easy enough; I found a cache at a rest area, and we stopped for a tolerable lunch at J's Corner in Columbia. Afterward, though, traffic picked up considerably, and we ran into a few snags, particularly around Jacksonville, FL, where a car had crashed and burned up real good. Still, in general, the drive wasn't intolerable, and we made decent time—for Ms. B. and me, a total of about nine hours. Once we arrived at our lodgings, a nice AirBnB in north St. Augustine, we unpacked and then set forth to find dinner, as the Great Starvation was upon us. We opted for a nice restaurant in the Spanish Quarter called Forgotten Tonic, which had great atmosphere and mostly delicious food. I had a big-ass burger with havarti cheese, bacon, pickles, and other goodies on a big old pretzel roll. Then a supply run at a nearby grocery store.
By now, we were all feeling pretty wiped, but there was a geocache only a quarter-mile from our lodgings, so I decided to walk after it. Interestingly, some fellow geocachers of our acquaintance from back home—known as The Border Reivers—had just been to the cache a couple of days ago. I signed the log beneath their entry, then returned to the AirBnB to pen this little portion of blog, and then crashed.
B-b-boom!
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| Feeling blue at GCAZNPV |
Friday, February 7, 2025
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| Home away from home—our St. Augustine AirBnB |
Although the AirBnB is very comfortable, particularly the bed, I unfortunately
had a poor night's sleep, due to some persistent, niggling physical issues;
hopefully, nothing serious. Anyhoo, once up, about, and fortified with coffee,
I felt reasonably human again. After a breakfast of biscuits and cinnamon
butter, which Beth had brought home from last night's restaurant dinner, we
set sail for the historical district and commenced to wandering. Eventually,
we settled in for lunch at a decent Italian-ish restaurant called
Pizzalley's Chianti Room, where Brugger and I split a fig & prosciutto pizza, which was
delicious. Then we opted to separate for a while, some of us to go shopping,
some of us to go geocaching (guess who did what).
I hunted and found quite a few caches; in fact, I just about cleaned up the entire historical district. (There really aren't that many here, so this wasn't a particularly impressive feat.) They were all fun, though, and I added seven or eight finds to my Florida cache count. We regrouped at a nice wine bar called Bin 39, but because it's pretty hot and muggy here, I felt more in the cold, refreshing beer mode. Found a Hibiscus Wheat Ale that really hit the spot. From there, we headed for an art gallery/wine bar called The Bart on Aviles (Bar plus Art equals Bart) and split a bottle of California GSM, which hit the spot.
Again, some wandering. After a time, for dinner, we settled on Prohibition Kitchen, right next to Pazzalley's. At first, we were a little leery because their live music, though mellow in character, was really, REALLY loud. However, the very kind staff there seated us in the balcony at the far back of the restaurant, which was perfect, as far as acoustics and intimacy go. Since I've not consumed a healthy morsel since we got here, I ordered a veggie sandwich (corned beets and spicy datil pepper slaw), though it came with yet more fries, which have accompanied every meal so far. I love me some fries, but I think I've hit the wall. Exceptionally high marks for this restaurant—very good food and service that couldn't be beat.
Given that this is my first visit to St. Augustine, I wasn't quite sure what
to expect. I must say, in general, I love the city's character. Lots of
history and culture, blended with the best of contemporary food, drink, shops,
and other attractions; touristy in places, but not overwhelming (at least at
this time of year; at peak season, the crowds are probably oppressive). Our
lodgings are as comfortable as any we've had anywhere we've
traveled—convenient to everything, but situated on a quiet, picturesque
avenue, with plenty of amenities. Terry and Beth have been here several times,
and I understand what draws them back for repeated visits. I expect that we'll
return at some point in the future.
Sadly, unless the local geocachers add some caches to the landscape, any future caching here is likely to be disappointing.
My only real caveat about the place is the prevalence, at least in certain areas, of right-wing exhibitions of outright hatred, particularly from local businesses. The most egregious I saw was a sign on a restaurant that read "Dimmycrats are the evil within!" This kind of shit is why we can't have the proverbial nice things. So often, I hear that liberals are the ones who spread lies and hatred; but in my experience, all evidence points to precisely the opposite—in the real world as well as the virtual. I've never, ever seen public displays anywhere as vile and hate-filled from the left, whereas it's become more and more commonplace to see it from the right. So don't ever, EVER tell me that the right is not spreading hatred and division because that is absolutely verifiable bullshit.
And that's my closing for today. More tomorrow.
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| St. Augustine Basilica |
I hunted and found quite a few caches; in fact, I just about cleaned up the entire historical district. (There really aren't that many here, so this wasn't a particularly impressive feat.) They were all fun, though, and I added seven or eight finds to my Florida cache count. We regrouped at a nice wine bar called Bin 39, but because it's pretty hot and muggy here, I felt more in the cold, refreshing beer mode. Found a Hibiscus Wheat Ale that really hit the spot. From there, we headed for an art gallery/wine bar called The Bart on Aviles (Bar plus Art equals Bart) and split a bottle of California GSM, which hit the spot.
Again, some wandering. After a time, for dinner, we settled on Prohibition Kitchen, right next to Pazzalley's. At first, we were a little leery because their live music, though mellow in character, was really, REALLY loud. However, the very kind staff there seated us in the balcony at the far back of the restaurant, which was perfect, as far as acoustics and intimacy go. Since I've not consumed a healthy morsel since we got here, I ordered a veggie sandwich (corned beets and spicy datil pepper slaw), though it came with yet more fries, which have accompanied every meal so far. I love me some fries, but I think I've hit the wall. Exceptionally high marks for this restaurant—very good food and service that couldn't be beat.
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| The Usual Suspects at Bin 39 |
Sadly, unless the local geocachers add some caches to the landscape, any future caching here is likely to be disappointing.
My only real caveat about the place is the prevalence, at least in certain areas, of right-wing exhibitions of outright hatred, particularly from local businesses. The most egregious I saw was a sign on a restaurant that read "Dimmycrats are the evil within!" This kind of shit is why we can't have the proverbial nice things. So often, I hear that liberals are the ones who spread lies and hatred; but in my experience, all evidence points to precisely the opposite—in the real world as well as the virtual. I've never, ever seen public displays anywhere as vile and hate-filled from the left, whereas it's become more and more commonplace to see it from the right. So don't ever, EVER tell me that the right is not spreading hatred and division because that is absolutely verifiable bullshit.
And that's my closing for today. More tomorrow.
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| Haunted Inn in the historic quarter |
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| Bustling St. George Street |
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| A troupe of dastardly, evil, murderous sociopaths running loose in the streets of St. Augustine |
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| What IS that? (GCAAEC) |
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| Old Rodan and the Old Senator |
After we were all sufficiently caffeinated and felt up to the task, we ventured down to the historical quarter, circled the same block several times looking for parking (which we finally managed), and sought lunch at a nice little joint near Flagler College called The Floridian, recommended to us by an old friend from our days working at The Mailbox, as she'd gone to school at Flagler. I found their brisket tacos quite good, if not quite up to the standard of Catrina's (in Mebane, NC).
The rest of the gang needed to do some shopping and drinking, so Terry drove us a little ways north of town and I set out on foot for a half-dozen geocaches within about a mile radius of our drop-off point. I hoofed it to several very fun caches, including one at the Fountain of Youth Archaeology Park, another at the Old Jail Museum, and another at "Old Senator," a roughly 600-year old live oak tree. I knocked out a few others nearby and then headed back to meet up with the rest of the gang at Carrera Wine Cellar on San Marco St. This turned out to be a colorful, enjoyable place, and I ended up having a lengthy conversation with one of the local folks who was apparently something of a horror fan. She was particularly taken with the fact that I'd written some Dark Shadows books and audio drama scripts, since she'd been a huge DS fan back in the dark ages. Fun shit.
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| The St. Augustine Lighthouse at sunset |
At last, we headed out to the
St. Augustine Lighthouse & Maritime Museum, where I hunted yet another fun cache and the other folks went shopping
(again). Right at sunset, the lighthouse lit up, which made for a lovely
early evening sight. By the time we headed back toward town, the evening
tourist/dinner rush was well under way, so it was a slow ride across the
bridge over the Matanzas River.
For dinner, we chose
Casa Reina Taqueria, which turned out to be one hell of a popular place. We had over an hour
wait, but once in, they seated us on a second-floor balcony with a scenic
view of the city. Since I'd had tacos at lunch, I opted for chicken with
rice, beans, guacamole, pico de gallo, and tomatillo salsa, which was
delicious—particularly once I added some of their homemade hot sauce, which
was delicious, though not that hot.
And that was pretty
much our day's adventure. Tomorrow, we're heading for Fort Lauderdale, and
the day following, onto Royal Caribbean's Liberty of the Seas for a
four-day cruise to the Caribbean (specifically, CocoCay and Nassau).
Hopefully, we'll avoid any unpleasant snags.
Till tomorrow!
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| Heading for Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth |
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| On the balcony at Casa Reina |
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| A couple of old folks at Longboards in Melbourne, FL |
Sunday, February 9, 2025
Terry and I rose almost with the sun so we could venture out for an early breakfast. We had settled on a little breakfast joint less than half a mile from our lodgings, but to our dismay, we found it was closed. So, we wandered most of another mile down the road to the local Denny's, where we indulged in a couple of cardiac-attack breakfasts—eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes (cinnamon swirl slapjacks for me; quite delicious). Then we waddled back to our place.
Alas, it was time to bid adios to St. Augustine. We particularly enjoyed our AirBnB lodgings; very clean, spacious, attractive, comfortable, and very reasonably priced. Top marks to our hosts. From St. Augustine to Fort Lauderdale is a couple of hundred miles and some change, but we took a few turns for vittles, gas, and geocaches. We went into Melbourne for lunch on the beachfront at a place called Longboards, which had a most appealing ambiance, though the service was slower than a salted slug trying to run uphill. The food, though, was delicious. I had a platter of the biggest and best steamed shrimp I've ever tasted.
We ran into very heavy traffic on our approach to Fort Lauderdale, but eventually we made it to our lodgings: a nicely priced, reasonably comfortable inn close to the interstate, airport, and cruise port. Once checked in, we set out in search of dinner. We'd found what looked like a very nice bistro not far from our inn—a hotel restaurant, it turned out—but when we arrived, the menu barely resembled the one posted online, they were out of cheese, and hopelessly understaffed. After waiting at our table for twenty minutes without acknowledgment, we decided to ride over to a nearby Outback Steakhouse, the very act of which went against our long-held tradition of avoiding chains in favor of local establishments, but by this time, it was getting very late, and the Great Starvation had settled upon us. The food and service turned out to be very good.
The need for additional wine for our upcoming adventure was strong, so we found a nearby Total Wine—the biggest Total Wine I've ever seen, actually—and commenced to shopping. A cache lurked on the premises, so I snagged it for good measure. Once back at our hotel, I decided to hoof it after a couple of caches less than a mile away. As I made my way toward one of the caches, I noticed a laser-like spotlight aimed into the sky, no doubt from the airport, which is less than a mile from our hotel. Not sure of its significance, but I found it very cool looking. I managed to turn up both caches without undue difficulty, and then trucked back to our room for a goodnight glass of wine.
And tomorrow, lord willing, it'll be off to the Caribbean.
