Traveling is a happy hobby with B. J. and me; it just happens. We started traveling on our honeymoon to St. Simons Island and it has been going on ever since.
During those early traveling years, we rarely made serious plans for a trip nor did we make reservations in a motel. We just winged it. Don’t laugh. Some of the most fun trips we ever had were the impromptu kind.
On our recent trip to Jacksonville, we made no reservations anywhere for anything whatsoever. We recalled the old days and just winged it.
James Boyd
Jacksonville Beach
I had asked B. J. if she had any notions about where to spend the night. She had none but she said she might like to stay at Jacksonville Beach. We had been to Jacksonville Beach but it had been a long time; it sounded interesting.
After feasting sumptuously at the River City Restaurant on the magnificent St. John’s River in downtown Jacksonville, Blondie, our GPS girl, guided us along picturesque streets, through a number of traffic lights and several stops and turns to Beach Boulevard that leads to Jacksonville Beach. A sign read: Jacksonville Beach 15 Miles.
“Omygosh!” B. J. said. “I didn’t know it was that far. Maybe we can find something closer.”
“Nope. You said Jacksonville Beach for the night so Jacksonville Beach it will be.”
Beach Boulevard quickly proved to be an exciting drive. With shops galore on both sides of the broad boulevard, it is a lovely drive and a shopper’s paradise. If you just look for it, your favorite shop will appear.
“Oh, there’s a Steinmart, and a Beall’s and a Penny’s and, of course, a Wal Mart and a Sam’s Club.”
Restaurants were everywhere.
Finally, Big Red and Blondie had taken us as far as they could without driving onto the beach. Big Red was up for a run along the strand but Blondie didn’t want to get her hair wet.
I reined the feisty Mustang into a parking lot across the street from a nice looking hotel nestled among the dunes. “Let’s check it out,” I told B. J.
They had a vacancy. “Continental breakfast begins at six O’clock,” announced the pretty little brunette receptionist with a winsome smile and a twinkle in her blue eyes. We checked in and soon we were into our pad for the night on the third floor. The place was cozy and clean and had a refrigerator, HD TV, microwave, coffee, and a big Jacuzzi on B. J.’s side of the king size bed.
We stashed our stuff on the floor and headed for the beach. The tide was out displaying a broad and lovely expanse of sand dotted with swimmers and surfers and a few bikini-clad sunbathers. A couple of hundred yards north from our pad was an adorable fishing pier that jutted way out into the ocean. We headed along the comely boardwalk in that direction.
It cost us a buck each to get on the pier but it was fun. The fishers were out in force and the fishing appeared to be good. There was not a cloud in the sky. We ambled around, took pictures and chatted with the natives.
After spending an ample amount of time on the pier, we descended to the sand and began a shell-collecting ramble for a while and vowed to be on the beach in time to see the sunrise in the morning.
With all the shells we could hold in our hands, we exited the beach and began checking out some attractive shops along the boardwalk. It was getting on into the afternoon and, although I had consumed a plentiful lunch at River City Restaurant, I was beginning to feel just a tad hungry. “Let’s see if we can spot a burger joint,” I suggested to B. J.
“Okay.”
About two blocks later, I saw a sign that read: Dick’s Grille; Wings and Burgers. The place looked good. We entered. Upon entering a sign on our left read: Poker Tournament. Only Poker Players Allowed. Well, I hadn’t played any poker since I was seventeen so I decided that I had better not chance it. The right side was open to the general public so we went in, found a booth and ordered a burger and waffle fries.
The poker players were noisy but the burger and waffle fries were ever so tasty.
The sun had dropped below the horizon when we came out of the eatery. It was getting time to hit the sack, get a good night’s sleep so that we could be refreshed and on the beach by sunrise.
We were there—Jacksonville Beach.
After feasting sumptuously at the River City Restaurant on the magnificent St. John’s River in downtown Jacksonville, Blondie, our GPS girl, guided us along picturesque streets, through a number of traffic lights and several stops and turns to Beach Boulevard that leads to Jacksonville Beach. A sign read: Jacksonville Beach 15 Miles.
“Omygosh!” B. J. said. “I didn’t know it was that far. Maybe we can find something closer.”
“Nope. You said Jacksonville Beach for the night so Jacksonville Beach it will be.”
Beach Boulevard quickly proved to be an exciting drive. With shops galore on both sides of the broad boulevard, it is a lovely drive and a shopper’s paradise. If you just look for it, your favorite shop will appear.
“Oh, there’s a Steinmart, and a Beall’s and a Penny’s and, of course, a Wal Mart and a Sam’s Club.”
Restaurants were everywhere.
Finally, Big Red and Blondie had taken us as far as they could without driving onto the beach. Big Red was up for a run along the strand but Blondie didn’t want to get her hair wet.
I reined the feisty Mustang into a parking lot across the street from a nice looking hotel nestled among the dunes. “Let’s check it out,” I told B. J.
They had a vacancy. “Continental breakfast begins at six O’clock,” announced the pretty little brunette receptionist with a winsome smile and a twinkle in her blue eyes. We checked in and soon we were into our pad for the night on the third floor. The place was cozy and clean and had a refrigerator, HD TV, microwave, coffee, and a big Jacuzzi on B. J.’s side of the king size bed.
We stashed our stuff on the floor and headed for the beach. The tide was out displaying a broad and lovely expanse of sand dotted with swimmers and surfers and a few bikini-clad sunbathers. A couple of hundred yards north from our pad was an adorable fishing pier that jutted way out into the ocean. We headed along the comely boardwalk in that direction.
It cost us a buck each to get on the pier but it was fun. The fishers were out in force and the fishing appeared to be good. There was not a cloud in the sky. We ambled around, took pictures and chatted with the natives.
After spending an ample amount of time on the pier, we descended to the sand and began a shell-collecting ramble for a while and vowed to be on the beach in time to see the sunrise in the morning.
With all the shells we could hold in our hands, we exited the beach and began checking out some attractive shops along the boardwalk. It was getting on into the afternoon and, although I had consumed a plentiful lunch at River City Restaurant, I was beginning to feel just a tad hungry. “Let’s see if we can spot a burger joint,” I suggested to B. J.
“Okay.”
About two blocks later, I saw a sign that read: Dick’s Grille; Wings and Burgers. The place looked good. We entered. Upon entering a sign on our left read: Poker Tournament. Only Poker Players Allowed. Well, I hadn’t played any poker since I was seventeen so I decided that I had better not chance it. The right side was open to the general public so we went in, found a booth and ordered a burger and waffle fries.
The poker players were noisy but the burger and waffle fries were ever so tasty.
The sun had dropped below the horizon when we came out of the eatery. It was getting time to hit the sack, get a good night’s sleep so that we could be refreshed and on the beach by sunrise.
We were there—Jacksonville Beach.
Trackbacks
Trackback specific URI for this entry
No Trackbacks