[I kept a bit of a diary of our honeymoon 10 years ago. I think I will share it, sort of “as it happened”. There are 11 installments. Enjoy.]
Mel’s for breakfast. Where else?
We then take off on a trip to Sanibel and Captiva Islands, up near Fort Myers. It looks like a short distance on the map; it’s not; I’m here to tell you. The biggest problem is that the speed limit most of the way is 35MPH or less. But the scenery is beautiful where there is scenery (for instance the Lovers Key area, where we stop to take a picture of the sign but don’t get out of the Blazer because it’s raining). It actually rains almost all the way to Bonita, then it just gets cloudy and surly (a bit of sun pokes through here and there, but otherwise, thank you very much T.S. Helene). On the way back it will start raining again when we get to Bonita and stop again when we get to US 41 north of Naples. Go figure; this is Florida.
When we get to Sanibel we stop to orient ourselves at the Chamber of Commerce visitors’ center. We trade on cute again and are congratulated on our marriage; it turns out that there is a couple standing right there in the room who are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, so congratulations and best wishes fill the air. One of the very nice folks manning the information center is from Carmel, so we tell him we’re from Pike Township and that we went to North Central. He remembers the high school rivalries that we remember, and he’s also a huge Pacers and Colts fan.
We drive through Sanibel at 35MPH or slower (depending on who is in front of us) and finally reach Captiva. Captiva is still practically a wilderness but has tons of condos and little inns and hotels built back behind the trees. Intriguingly, there are no public beaches on Captiva as far as we can tell. We stop at Jungle Drums and The Confused Chameleon to look around at their wares. Jungle Drums is an upscale avant-garde art store where, as Sally says, you go to look and not buy. They have some really exquisite pieces that I’d love to have except for the price tags–in some cases 2 grand or more. The least expensive items I see are still in the $30-$60 range and are not really things I’d consider paying that much for.
We then stop at the Bubble Room for lunch. Sally has been here before–for dinner–and says it’s great. We get our picture taken in the little Tunnel of Love booth they have and are seated. The restaurant is decorated in the Old Kitsch style you see at home in many restaurants, but this kitsch is authentic (as far as I can tell) rather than having been reproduced en masse for a chain. They have an LGB train running overhead in the room we’re seated in; unfortunately it’s just the engine and no cars.
Our waitress (Sybil) is a bit on the strange side and very talkative. Sally orders a roast beef sandwich on French bread and I order the big cheeseburger (my tastes are plebian, what can I say?) and we order a basket of cheese and bacon fries, which turns out to be enough for any four people to eat. I am sad to report that the Bubble Room does not have anything special for honeymooners; they offer to stick a candle in our dessert, if we order dessert, and sing, and that’s about it. Even a souvenir menu is priced at $3.75. Sally is not as impressed as she was the last time; the food is reasonably good but as I comment, the attitude isn’t all that great. We suspect it’s because we’re there off-season and have arrived pretty much at the end of the shift.1
On the way back we stop at Blind Pass, where Captiva and Sanibel meet, and take a walk on the public beach. This looks like the dying place of the shells and since we don’t have our water shoes we have to walk down the beach a bit to find a place where we can get through to the surf without walking on broken shells. We collect a few shells and walk back to the Blazer. It’s cloudy and grey and the surf is a bit rough; it’s easy to see the clouds from Helene out to the west and north. We’re really happy it went that-a-way instead of this-a-way, even if that means the folks in the Panhandle got drenched.
We head for home; it’s a long drive and we’re both tired, so we call it a day and have frozen pizza again.
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1 We should have eaten at The Mucky Duck, instead. Live and learn.
A "surly curmudgeon[], suspicious and lacking in altruism." (Robert A. Heinlein)