We drove down to Florida to be with Megan as she navigates the procedures for kicking multiple myeloma. She is being treated at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville where she was selected to participate in a new research project that involves some of her blood being genetically modified to fight the specific cancer that has been with her now for more than two years. We met her here in Jax for lunch and dinner last week, and then she went home to North Port to get things organized before driving back to Jacksonville where we will be for five or six weeks.
We wanted to be close to her, but not so close as to make her feel like we needed to be entertained; we just wanted to be close enough that if we were needed we could be there in under two hours. We elected to go to Dunedin, on the west coast of Florida about thirty minutes northwest of Tampa on the Gulf of Mexico. We had been there once about five years ago and had dim memories of it being a nice place. We stayed at a hotel right on the marina and a five minute walk to the lovely downtown. After changing rooms three times in fifteen minutes due to a reservation snafu, we set off to explore. It is an old city that has managed to retain its charm despite tourism. We like it because it doesn’t have any beaches, which means no beach bums and very few children.
Right behind our hotel we noticed a small street facing the gulf that has about twelve of the most beautiful old homes you can imagine. They all have long docks so as to be able to launch their boats at low tide and huge manicured grounds leading to their front porches. In between is a sidewalk and a narrow road so there is public access all along the water - at least visually - there are signs making it clear that the docks are not public. One home - we looked it up on Zillow - is set on 4.6 acres with ten bedrooms and huge porches front, back and side. The other houses, no two of which are the same, are less grand but equally elegant. It was a particularly nice place to walk and run in the morning.
The town is divided by Alt. Route 19, which runs up the coast from Clearwater to beyond Tarpon Springs. On one side is the town itself and on the other a marina which houses our hotel and two restaurants, one fancy and the other an open-sided beer bar. Both offer great views and good food and very different menus at VERY different prices. We ate in the fancy place the first night and while the food was good and the service exceptional, it was far too sterile for our taste. The other restaurant also houses a fresh fish market and their fish was delicious, simply prepared and served in paper-lined plastic baskets at a third the price of the fancy joint. We ate there a few times and always enjoyed the food, wine, views, all of which changed daily.
The downtown was a single street, Main Street to be precise, lined with cutesy shops which cater to tourists, and bars and restaurants which for the most part cater to the locals. Splitting the town down the middle is the Pinellas Trail, a biking/walking path that was created from the old railroad bed that went from St. Petersburg to Tarpon Springs, offering 47 miles of excellently maintained surface. I walked a lot of it during our time there and was amazed at how polite and courteous all of those using it were to one another, quite civil.
One day we decided to drive to Tarpon Springs, a place we had visited more that thirty years ago. Our only memory was that it was very Greek due to the fact that there were/are lots of sponges in the waters of the Gulf and in the 1900s many Greeks came over to collect and sell them. On the way there we stopped at an optician to see about getting my two pairs of glasses repaired. The day we were leaving to drive to Florida I lost the nose rest on one pair and the lens popped out of the new frames on another pair that I had purchased just the day before. I explained what I needed to the young receptionist and she asked us to have a seat. Ten minutes late she came out with everything all fixed and the glasses cleaned. I ask her how much I owed her and she smiled and said, “Nothing, I’m just happy I was able to help you.” And me without a lollipop!
We did an inadvertent tour of most of Tarpon Springs before finding the tourist area, which was pretty much as we had remembered it. Tons of ticky-tacky shops selling - yes you guessed right - sponges. Not just sponges but sponges in every shape you can imagine and for every purpose. There were sponge vases, hats, bowls for soap - everything except square pants. We wandered around the harbor, admiring the working boats and enjoying the smells of fresh bread coming from the Hellas Bakery, a huge commercial place that bakes for all of Florida’s Greek restaurants (of which there are many).
A month or two ago Cindy had been given a new handbag from Megan and Valley and she wanted me to put a new hole in the strap so that it rested better on her hip. While I was perfectly prepared to do this for her, I also knew that I would take away from the overall good looks of the bag, so upon entering a little gift shop and smelling fresh leather, I suggested we see if they could do it. A wonderfully friendly young owner was only too pleased to help and in no time he had professionally punched a hole right were Cindy wanted it. He would not take any money for the service so I purchased a small leather bag for myself to hold all the stuff I would be needing at the Mayo Clinic. Again we marveled at how kind all the shop owners seemed to be.
We selected a very Greek looking restaurant, Hellas (owned by the same family for thirty-eight years) and as we stepped in we were transported back to Greece. The smells, colors, and cacophony of music along with people talking and yelling orders, was marvelous. We immediately remembered that it was the same restaurant where we had eaten on our first visit so many years ago. We started with Ouzo, which was not on the menu but we knew if it was really Greek they would have it - and it was delicious. We then ordered skordalia, an appetizer of cold mashed potatoes with tons of garlic served with the very best fresh warm pita bread from their bakery. Then came two small appetizer portions of grilled octopus and a plate of grilled lamb riblets, both sporting fresh sauces of lemon, garlic and parsley. Oh my goodness were they ever tasty. After lunch we walked over to a little shack that advertised Cuban coffee, cigars and sandwiches. The owner, who spoke no English despite his family being in the same location for eighty years and he having personally run this shop for 18 years, made us a truly rich and flavorful Cuban coffee which was the perfect ending to a perfect luncheon.
On the way back to Dunedin we stopped at a local jeweler we had noticed on our walks. One of Cindy’s rings had a problem with one of the prongs catching on clothes and she wanted to find out if they could fix it. The clerk looked at it, stepped into the back and asked the jeweler about it, and returned in a few minutes with it fixed perfectly. At no charge! How do they make money in this area?
Best to all, Cindy and Wm
