Orlando and back to Fort Myers

We braved the traffic street the fireworks in St. Augustine and drove a little bit further back to the suburbs of Orlando. The hotel prices on the coast were astronomical for 4th of July, but luckily we were able to find a room with Starwood points near Lake Mary. Everybody was pretty tired, so we slept in and enjoyed the rest.

The next day we woke up from our deep slumber at the crack of eleven in the morning and proceeded to Sweet Tomatoes, a buffet chain, where we met with Chris Black and his daughter, Elisabeth. As Charlie and I went to work on traumatizing Elizabeth as much as humanly possible, our parents talked to Chris. 

We talked about school, math, veterinary programs, what we wanted to do with our life, our ages, Girl Scouts, Venture Crew, (which I managed to get Elizabeth excited about) fun places in the area, life, the universe, and everything.

Ahem. Anyways, after parting ways with the Blacks, (and a brief run in with a lizard) the family set out to one of the nearby attractions the Blacks had told us about, Gatorland.

When we arrived at the amusement park, we were immediately assaulted by the excess of alligator.
One of the first things I noticed were the "cutesy" southern signs with bad grammar that made me want to run around with a red sharpie screaming, "Ain't isn't a word!!" However, since this scenario only ended with me getting hauled out by the police, I restrained myself.

First, we went to see one of the performances at the park, the 'Up Close Encounters' exhibit, and were surprised to find that the two park rangers who were showing off the animals (aka lots of icky crawlies), were genuinely funny. The two rangers (surprise of surprises) seemed to actually like each other, which was refreshing, and worked off each other well, with a quick and humorous barrage of one liners, arguing, and commentary. The show, also to my astonishment, was obviously improvisation (except for a few obviously scripted or often used jokes) and there were a few moments when the two rangers even made each other crack up. The rangers showed off their selection of tarantulas, cottonmouths, and pythons. 

Overall, the show was very entertaining, this entertainment only broken up by the obligatory "tourist trap" segment after the show where the rangers accepted "donations" of five dollars for pictures with the python.

Next, we went to feed the alligators in the main area. Unfortunately, since it's apparently "against the law" to feed your brother to the alligators, we settled on feeding the alligators some hot dogs, which a nearby bird tried desperately to steal. 

However, we were lucky enough to have the Great Camel Tamer-Dancer of the Nile as a father, so he proceeded to charm the birds, lead it away to a secluded area, and began to dance. Unfortunately for my father's reputation as a Great Animal Tamer, the bird was not amused and stood back staring at my father with the cold and lifeless stare that can only be achieved by a creature with such a deep seated hatred for the recipient of the stare that death would be considered too charitable a fate. So, naturally, deterred by his failure as an Animal Whisperer, the family started to start torturing the poor, murderous, blood thirsty alligators by bouncing hot dog pieces off their noses and various body parts, all while we cheered on each other's accuracy as if we were dive bombers during the World War. 

On our way to the next attraction, we found a rare sight- a mother peacock wandering around with her two babies.

Next, we visited the biggest alligator in the entire park, a thirteen and a half foot long 'gator by the name of Chester the "Dog Eater," who had lived in the wild, eating dogs and having a generally good time until he was captured by trappers and "rescued" by the Gatorland staff.

After that, we visited the snake exhibit and smiled with a perverse sense of glee as Mom squirmed in the corner at the sight of all the slippery, terrifying, creepy crawlies. No matter how sweetly we smiled or tried to coax her to come over to look at the adorable, lovely snakies, she wouldn't budge, so we decided to move on to the next exhibit- the white Leucistic alligators. 

Interestingly enough, the alligators were not, as I had originally thought, albino, but a rare type of alligator that had white scales and blue eyes. In addition, we found a small story about the White Alligator and the Rabbit, which I will now tell to you:

In the beginning, all alligators were white. One day Rabbit went up to Alligator and teased him. "You are very brave," he said, "But I bet you are not brave enough to meet the devil." The White Alligator was outraged. "Of course I am brave enough," he roared, "Where can I find the devil, so I might show you my courage." "Well," the Rabbit replied, "wait in the tall grass by the river until you see smoke. The other animals will try to run away, because they are so terrified, but you must stay where you are, no matter what happens. When you see flames in the grass- there you will also see the devil." And so, everything happened as the Rabbit said. "Cowards," thought the White Alligator as the other animals scurried past him, to safety. As the White Alligator lay in wait for the devil to appear the smoke and heat began to turn his skin brown. Finally, he saw the flames, just as the Rabbit said he would- but, to his surprise, there was no devil! It was then the Alligator realized he had been tricked and fled the scene, the Rabbits laughter echoing from behind him. 

And, to this day, the White Alligator's descendants are born brown, as a reminder that one should not trust rabbits.

Wait, what?

The alligator wrestling exhibit was next.  We sat in awe as the ranger walked into the pit in the center of the amphitheater, filled with alligators and hauled an alligator out by its tail. Grabbing the alligator, he forced the alligator's jaw closed and jumped on the alligator's back. Once again, the ranger's back and forth improvisational banter was entertaining, even if the energy level of the crowd was heavily impaired by the sluggish, sweltering air. 

One of the other rangers demonstrated a bull whip and told the crowd about the origins of alligator wresting. Apparently, when cattle herding was a huge part of Florida's economy, herders had had a problem with alligators hiding in "alligator holes" and eating cattle when they came to drink. So the herders invented alligator wresting, to protect their herds from the fearsome predators.

The first ranger grabbed another alligator, jumped on his back, and began to explain to us about the most dangerous part of the alligator- the mouth. In fact, he said that an alligator's mouth had an amazing amount of closing power, for snapping it's victims, but very little power for opening it's mouth. 

So, it was possible to hold the alligator's mouth closed with your chin.

"Smile," joked one of the rangers.

The ranger wrestling the alligator even was able to pry open the alligator's mouth, so that the audience could look inside.

Lastly, the wrestler flipped the alligator, causing it to go to "sleep."

Then the wrestler woke up the alligator, turned it around, tied it's mouth and let tourists come and take a picture "wrestling" the alligator for only ten dollars apiece!!

But I digress.

We continued on to the other attractions. In addition to alligators and snakes, the park had parrots, budges, a petting zoo filled with goats, and even a white raccoon (again, not an albino).

The family decided to go to some of the exhibits on the less crowded edges of the park. We saw many different kinds of alligator and took many more pictures.

Including some very silly photos.

All in all, it was a very productive trip for a young blackmailer of my disposition. (Which reminds me- $10,000 at the usual place, alright?)

The last event of the day was the feeding of the alligators at the center of the park. We laughed along with the audience as three rangers put on the show. Two of the rangers- dressed in matching overalls- were introduced as Bubba and Cooter, Southern-accented, childish, stereotypical hillbillies who were both applying for a job at Gotorland. As such, they had to compete with each other for the job, on who could make the alligators jump the highest and feed the alligators the fastest.

There were even some good jokes in the show. For example, when asked for a word for the crowd to shout to get the alligators to jump, the words "mayonnaise" and "deez" (as in deez alligators) were suggested, before the two bumpkins decided on "jump," simple and to the point.

On our way out of the park, we passed through the gift shop, and the adorable, murderous, bloodthirsty baby alligators. (Wait, I already made this joke...)

We continued on our drive back to Fort Meyers, stopping to eat at a BBQ place on the way, where we gorged ourselves on BBQ chicken, ribs, and delicious, mouthwatering, saucy sauces.

Finally, we arrived at Fort Meyers, unloaded the car, and slept.

Fireworks in St Augustine

We continued our travels up the coast to St Augustine. We had read about a big fireworks display planned there that evening over the Matanzas bay and thought that sounded like a fun side trip. Little did we know that this is apparently a major event for most of the area with tens of thousands of people lining the bay and filling the Lion Bridge from shore to shore. We find a lovely little spot to sit right next to Ponce DeLeon circle. They had a band playing jazz and older pop music and a little flea market to entertain is. We also walked around and enjoyed the architecture, people watching and some coffee. Even add far away as we were, there was a crowd there that night. It was a fun, expectant festive atmosphere and some boaters in the bay kept Yifat and some little children next to us entertained with volunteer, baby fireworks.

Just a typical evening for Charlie

The show began at 9:30 and we were impressed with the fireworks, the music, the echoes of the explosions off of the buildings of Flagler college and of course Charlie's attempts to calculate the energy content of the fireworks based on the wavelength of the light emitted, as well as careful measurements of the decibel levels of the explosions.

A visit with aunt Kate

As we ended our way up the coast, we stopped in Daytona Beach to visit aunt Kate. After a short visit at her condo, we decided to try one of the legendary local eateries, Aunt Catfish. So that's two aunt's in one day! Actually, Aunt Jaime texted us while we were driving in Daytona Beach completing the auntception.

The salad bar and cinnamon rolls and hushpuppies at Aunt Catfish were delicious. And we chatted away as we ate about previous trips to Daytona Beach and all the memories that the town and the fabled restaurant held for our family. We topped it off with a walk on the pier where we watched an aggressive pelican filling his beak in the intercoastal waterway and took a picture with a giant catfish.

Fort Lauterdale, Peanut Island, and West Palm Beach

On July 2nd, two days before the Fourth of July, Charlie, Mom, and I touched down in Fort Lauterdale. 

And so, thus begun the record of our numerous humorous and tragic escapades in the new city.

Getting off the plane, our heads bursting with images of Jurrasic Park and Robocop, we rushed to the baggage claim, as we'd checked our bags before the flight. And thus, we encountered our first challenge.

My bag, which I'd checked in before the flight, was gone! Confused, we rushed to the baggage claim service office, where they told us that our bag was most likely still in San Fransisco and would be flying over on the next plane. 

None the less, unable to do anything about the situation, we moved on and went to our hotel, with the promise that we would be called if anything turned up about our bag.

So, after a frantic search for a diner open at 1 AM, ending in a cheap drive thru that served gyros, burgers, and fish and chips, we finally arrived at our hotel.

We ravenously ate our meager dinner, called the baggage services to check up on our bag, and went to sleep. 

The next morning, we woke up to dreadful news. The bag, which was supposed to come in on a flight from San Francisco earlier that morning, had still not arrived from the West Coast. 

So, out of options, a trip to Walmart for clothes to replace the ones I'd lost was warrented. After the obligatory, "Mardi and Walmart" jokes and a lot of fussing, I finally managed to escape the store with two new sets of clothes, enough to last me the weekend, and a new swimsuit.

Eager to put that swimsuit to good use, we set off to Peanut Island, just off the coast of Palm Beach.

There was a boat that took tourists to the island, so we gathered up our beach chairs, snorkel gear, beach towels, swimsuits, and snacks, and took off to the island. 

Once on the beach, Charlie and I got on our swimsuits and plunged into the water with our snorkel gear on. 

The view underwater was amazing! There were huge lines of boulders in the water that served as hangouts for all types of fishes. Most of the fish were brown and gray, but other species were green, blue, yellow, orange, and even black. Other fish had colorful stripes or markings in their body, or were simply exceedingly large. There was even a purple and yellow fish that was very colorful and pretty. And exceedingly impressive to me were the large schools of easily a hundred fish that swam under water together.

"Look, Charlie," I said, taking the snorkel out of my mouth, "Pretty fishees!"

The only problem with snorkeling was, as I soon found, I kept on forgetting that the snorkel only works of the end is above the water and kept on trying to dive underwater for a better look at the fishes. 

Still, after much complaining from Charlie regarding salt in his eyes (shut up and man up, that's my motto) and some silly complaint about a cut on his leg, Charlie got out of the water and Doug and I got in again, to look for more marine wildlife. 

After a while of "oh-ing and ah-ing" at the fish, we were rewarded for our hard work with a manatee sighting, no more than ten feet away from us. Excited, we finally got out of the water and told Charlie and Mom about our escapades. (Cue obligatory Barbra Manatee joke.)

While we'd been swimming, we figured out that the Baggage Claim Services had called us. When we called them back, we were delighted to discover they'd found our bag. Apparently, it had arrived on the right plane to Fort Lauderdale- someone else had mistakenly taken it home with them, and that person had just returned it to the airport.

Luckily, even though we were out of town, the airport agreed to send our bag to the hotel we were staying in by the end of that day:

With the peace of mind, knowing that our bag was safe, we continued on our journey.

Next, we visited the Kennedy Bunker and Coast Guard Station on the island. 

There we learned about the history of the island- it was a man made island created when Henry Flagler dumped all the soil from a ship canal dug in Palm Beach in the ocean. The island had later gotten the name "Peanut Island" for a peanut oil shipping company that had almost been built there before a hurricane came along and destroyed any prospect of construction being completed. 

Then we got a tour of the old Coast Guard Station- the first floor, at least- where the old Coast Guard had protected the coast from the 1920s to he 1990s. We saw old Coast Guard uniforms, ship parts, signal flags, Coast Guard "survival suits", and radio receivers. 

Next, we visited the Kennedy bunker.

Built during the Cuban Missile Crisis, the bunker was made to protect the president, Kennedy, from radiation if the Cubans managed to nuke one of their target cities.

The bunker was made of double walled steel with lead in between. Origionally, it included a decontamination shower, rations for thirty days, waste buckets, and beds. 

There was even the remains of the old exits ladder and  hatch that would've allowed the president to escape. 

Currently, however, the main room of the bunker was transformed into a museum, on the bunker and Kennedy's life.

Unfortunately, much to my disappointment, the shelter would not be much help nowadays, as time has rendered it's original function useless.

Leaving the bunker. (Ohh, look, so artsy!)

Next, we rested up in our hotel and continued in to the Barbeque and Blues festival that was going on for the Fourth of July. 

We had a blast, eating ribs, Barbeque chicken wings, shrimp and grits, collard greens, pound cake, and okra and tomato. 

At around 8, the Blues band began playing and we enjoyed the live music and games. Charlie and I played Jenga and I won. Needless to say this was the highlight of the day, far topping my measly manatee sighting from earlier.

Anyways, stuffed with food, we proceeded to Worth Avenue, the only street in town where a $500 dollar bag is the norm. 

So, surrounded by overpriced, clothing, accessories, and furniture, we found a restaurant and settled down for dessert. First, we had an antipasta plate as an appetizer, and then a Nutella pizza. It was at that moment I knew I was in heaven.

Still, we decided to go for a walk around the street (and various alleyways) and soak up the (admittedly very expensive) culture of the street. 

After staring at the overpriced dresses, handbags, towels, jewelry, bizarre modern art, and antique furniture, we soon turned our attention to the beautiful architecture of the area.

Fancy fountains, statues, and buildings dominated our surroundings, and we couldn't resist taking pictures.

Then, finally, we returned to our hotel, exhausted, retrieved our lost bag, and slept.