Florida Day 12

I fell asleep almost instantly last night and I slept very well but I woke up with an intense migraine—the pain searing my eye and making me nauseous. Kati got up to get me Excedrin and some water and then took the first shower to give the medicine time to take effect. We were planning to eat breakfast at the campsite before departing, but the bugs were so bad, we broke camp in record time, got in the car, and started driving. Kati is miserable. Between the heat and bugs she wants to get out of Florida as quickly as possible. Bugs and heat had been somewhat manageable until yesterday. Yesterday pushed her to a breaking point. G3 is also eager to escape the bugs.

While I enjoyed my time in The Keys, I have to admit I am not enthralled with them. Yes, I am glad I came and I thoroughly enjoyed Dry Tortugas, Hemingway’s cats, and the turtles, but I see no need to return. I mean, if I won a free trip, I wouldn’t turn it down, but I don’t foresee planning another visit, at least not any time soon.

For lunch, we stopped at Culver’s. We wanted to eat there one last time before we are forced to go without cheese curds and pretzel bites for another extended period.

While Kati was intent on leaving Florida today, I wanted one more swim. So, we detoured to Anastasia Island to go to Matanzas Beach, one of the beaches my cousin recommended. The beach is across the street from Fort Matanzas National Monument. And yes, the thought of paying a visit to the fort did cross my mind, but the fort can only be accessed by ferry and the ferry does not run on Tuesdays or Wednesdays. Bummer. However, that didn’t stop me from learning a bit about it since we stopped at the visitors center to change into our bathing suits.

Matanzas is a Spanish word that means slaughters, a term that feels like an appropriate legacy for the Conquistadors. As I mentioned last week, Pedro Menendez founded St. Augustine in 1565. His purpose for sailing to Florida was to expel the French Huguenots who had settled at Fort Caroline near present day Jacksonville. The French soldiers, aware of what the Spanish intended sailed to St. Augustine to launch an attack against Menendez and his men. Unfortunately for them, a hurricane hit and they were shipwrecked just south of St.Augustine.

As the French sailed south toward St. Augustine, the Spaniards marched north. When they arrived at Fort Caroline—which was missing the soldiers who had left—they slaughtered the men, but spared the women and children. When Menendez learned from the Timucua about the shipwrecked sailors, he returned to St. Augustine and killed them. In memory of the event, the Spanish named the nearby river and inlet Matanzas—or the slaughters.

Fort Matanzas stands near where the slaughter occurred, but it wasn’t built for another two hundred years. It wasn’t until the British amped up their attacks on the Spanish in the early 1700s that the Spanish deemed a fort necessary. The coquina fort was completed in 1742 to protect the southern—or backdoor—access to St. Augustine. Before that, it is believed that a wooden watch tower guarded the southern access point.

Even though I couldn’t get to Fort Matanzas, I did catch a glimpse of it across the inlet before G3 and I went swimming. It was low tide. Very low. And the water was exceptionally calm which was surprising considering the storm in the distance. But it was refreshing—not uncomfortably warm like down in Miami. I very much enjoyed the stop at the beach and was grateful to have gotten in one last swim before crossing into Georgia. If I were to return to Florida, I am much more likely to return to Anastasia Island than The Keys. It was quieter, less built up, and it has better beaches for swimming. I am probably in the minority, but that’s really nothing new. My Dad always commented that I was different.

By the time we toweled off and changed back into our dry clothes, the sky looked ominous.

Kati wanted to make one last quick stop in St.

Augustine to buy some tupelo honey. The tupelo trees grow in the Okefenokee Swamp and the pollen from the trees give the honey a very distinctive taste.

As we were driving north, I would have liked to have stopped at Fort Caroline. It would have been a short detour from the Jacksonville beltway, but it was raining, Kati really wanted to get out of Florida, and G3 thinks I’m a bit too obsessed with history—and maybe he’s not entirely wrong. As the years go by, my interest in history seems to expand but I think G3 is getting bored with it. As for Kati, she is more tolerant of my interest if she isn’t being tortured by bugs and heat.

Our goal for the evening was Savannah, and since we got here before dark, Kati detoured into the city so I could walk the Stone Stairs of Death. The name is probably more exciting than the actual walk up and down, but I already admitted I am a bit extreme when it comes to history. We didn’t get to the stairs last time we were here because of the rain, and it was bothering me that I missed them. The steep 33 stairs leading down from the city to the river are made of ballast stones that were discarded from slave ships. I couldn’t find an exact year for their construction, but estimates date back to the early days of the colony—nearly three centuries ago. Even though they are called the Stairs of Death, there are no known fatalities associated with them. Apparently, they are treacherous to navigate with heels, but I wouldn’t know. I think walking on flat even ground in heels is treacherous.

After our walk up and down the steps, we took a short walk along River Street and the water. We stopped at Huey’s Cafe to get beignets which ended up being our dinner since none of us were very hungry.

We liked the deserted campground with the live southern oaks and Spanish moss at Fort McAllister enough that we stopped here again for the night. It was convenient and familiar which is always welcome when getting in after dark. After four Excedrin and two Advil, my migraine finally went away. I am now in the tent—it appears the bugs followed us from Florida—listening to the cicadas which always makes me happy. I love the cicadas. They are the best for calming me and helping me fall asleep.