Days 8 & 9 - Back On the Road

And on the eighth day… nah, this isn’t any massively important trip of epic proportions.

The last day of the trip, we were supposed to go to Tarpon Springs. Friend wasn’t feeling it, and I’m not going to force her to do something she really doesn’t want to do, so we decided to just stay around the apartment and chill. Well, the balcony. Let’s face it, the apartment itself was basically stripped clean, and what little was left was being tucked into various parcels and bags.

Honestly, it’s likely for the best we didn’t go. I had such a good time when I was there last, but it’s been what, at least twelve years, maybe longer, and hurricanes and COVID and more and more Florida Man making their way to Florida to dwell and breed… Yeah, why destroy that memory? I’m still chasing the mango gelato I didn’t have the last time I was there – they were out, so I had to have coconut instead. Sigh.

Tried to get it on this trip, too. Nope. That, and Greek food. But homemade nommy food beats Greek nosh, so we’ll (heavy sigh) have to deal with the hand that Florida Fate has dealt us. I think I can live with it.

Besides, I learned too late that the little shops tucked into a back plaza at Tarpon Springs are long gone. The area has gotten rather commercial, according to friend’s friend that lives there. I’m chasing a phantom, and none of us would have a good time. That’s okay, then. Oh, yeah, and the one shop I’m looking for has closed, and is in… Naples. Which is near Venice Beach.

I did preemptive squishie research, but not for the other stuff.

I did mention all the small things going wrong…

Lots of talking, lots of creature watching (like the second, smaller spotted eagle ray that showed up), and rolling our eyes at all the Florida Men zooming around in their boats.

And the pod of about seven dolphins, cruising up and down the channel.

Like our friend says, there is beauty here. There’s also a lot of nonsensical insanity, and one vastly outweighs the other. I’m grateful that we’ve got to see as much of the good side of the balance as we have on this trip.

And, hey, sent off with a tuna poke that looked so good, my mom thought we went to a restaurant when I texted her a picture.

But like all good things, trips come to an end, and we said our goodbyes.

The next day, we were up early and on the road. Last things shoved in the SUV, a few extra things shoved in because we had room, and why not? If it take a burden off our friend, it’s worth it.

And off we went.

I was trying to avoid Tampa, because, well, Tampa traffic rather sucks. So, of course, it was smooth sailing straight through. Well, I guess Florida had had enough of me, and wanted me gone.

We’d thought to go back to Gainesville to get the other two squishies, but one was closed, and one wouldn’t open till 11am. We’d be deep in Georgia by then, so we took a different route, one that our friend recommended, on secondary roads.

We found some of the old places that used to be tourist attractions, but that super-highways and dead orange groves had passed by.

Interior Florida still has a charm, if you ignore all the political signs. I hope they enjoyed my “saluting” them as we drove by.

I-75 to State 301 to I-95. We did stop at a Florida Orange Center for gas, facilitation, and some of the saddest-looking and most expensive oranges I’d ever paid for. Well, one last hurrah, at least we got the orange marmalade that Mom requested. Was it worth the glares from the cashiers and the grumpy security guard? Yes, we were wearing masks. Oh well.

Not much to say about the ride. Beautiful weather, quiet driving, not too much traffic on a weekday. We stuck to the speed limits and got out of Dodge while the getting was good.

Now, when we crossed into Georgia, I did notice signs for a Georgia Peach Center with peach cider. Okay, that got my attention! I am a peach fiend. We went to the one at Exit.. um, 87? I think, not the one at Exit 30-something.

We were the only car when we pulled into the parking lot, and I was a bit worried. But the door said OPEN, so in we went. Well! What a difference! Welcomed warmly despite the masks, offered a taste of peach slushie (they have alcoholic ones too), and off we went to peruse the pecans. We ended up with a bag of pecans, peach cider, and a slice of pecan pie for my mom.

Oh, yeah, and two warmed peach cobblers. Without the peach ice cream, because I’m still diabetic.

NOM.

And this was about the time that I signed into Vocal, while eating peach cobbler in a parking lot with the biggest oak leaves I’ve ever seen, learning that I’d won a placement in the Harmonic Verses Challenge. Poor hubby returned from the facilitation station to find me crying, and I had to reassure him they were happy tears.

We took it easy, and arrived at the same hotel in Florence that we used on the southward leg. Got a hotel room again, within striking distance of Quincy’s.

We didn’t even go into our room, we immediately scooted down the street and got a duplicate order because NOM. And we got our to-go order, came back…

Now, I’m not posting the next part for kudos or pettings. Honestly, I /we don’t deserve them. I have Very Conflicted Feelings.

A thin, grizzled man approached us. Why us? We still had masks. But we had a bag of an obvious to-go order. Maybe he’d already been rejected and though we’d be kinder?

No matter why, he approached us and very nicely asked for some food, since he and his wife hadn’t eaten all day. Now, we had food in our cooler, since we eat nibbly lunches on the road. If he’d asked for money, that would have been a hard no. But he asked for food. So I asked him if he was okay with hummus, and he replied, “Any food, we really haven’t eaten all day.”

Well, that did it for me. Into the cooler I went, and out came a huge unopened brick of cheese, and an unopened tub of plain hummus. I use it for late night snack, to prevent low blood sugar in the middle of the night. I hadn’t touched it on this trip. We’d also gotten the big cheese bricks at an Aldi’s near Saint Pete, and he got the lot. It would make two meals for two people, and they’d be hungry enough to eat it all.

He didn’t expect it, he was very grateful, and he scooted off with his treasure.

I, on the other hand, was steaming mad.

Because he was of a particular skin color. Because he was wearing a Veteran hat (yes, it fit, and he carried himself like one as well despite being rail thin.) I did what any decent human should have done, and it made me wonder what budget got slashed to put him in that position. You could see he was painfully humiliated to be reduced to begging.

I don’t care if I was being scammed. No one, and I mean NO ONE, should be in that position.

He knew he was taking a huge risk. POC approaching a white couple, in South Carolina? Oh, so many things could have gone sideways. For him, less so for us.

I’m still angry.

So we went inside, and ate, and appreciated that we could help. We don’t have much either, in some ways, but we can share what we have.

And I am grateful for what we have, me and hubby.

Deep thought to sleep on, so we did.