The Calm Before the Orlando Storm
Right then, dear readers – gather ’round for a rather relaxed instalment of our stateside shenanigans. Today marked Day Twelve of our two-week escapade across the land of oversized portions, relentless sunshine, and surprisingly friendly pelicans. Now, fair warning: this won’t be a tale packed with high drama or adrenaline-fuelled adventure, but rather a gentle ramble through a day of beachy breezes, sentimental memories, and a small victory in the world of rental maintenance. Grab a cuppa, get comfy, and join me for what we’ll affectionately call a rest day on the grand tour.
Morning Musings and Bagel Bliss
Up with the Birds – Again
You know the drill by now – up at 08:00 sharp, just as the Florida sun was rubbing the sleep out of its fiery eyes. There’s something about waking up early on holiday that feels wonderfully rebellious. You’re supposed to be relaxing, but there’s also an unspoken mission to make the absolute most of every precious sun-drenched moment. Naturally, that mission starts with a toasted bagel and a mug of the good stuff – coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
With breakfast in hand, I settled into my new favourite holiday routine: a slow morning on the balcony, overlooking the palm trees and listening to the sounds of early risers getting their day underway. Seagulls screeched, waves whispered in the distance, and I sank into Killing Floor by Lee Child – a cracking read if you’re into punchy prose, mysterious strangers, and the kind of justice that comes with a clenched fist.
Packing for Pastures New
After a suitably lazy start, it was time to get a bit productive – well, as productive as one can be on holiday without breaking into a sweat. Tomorrow marks the sixth leg of our American adventure, and we’re off to Orlando. Yes, the land of theme parks, thrill rides and – hopefully – hotel doors that behave themselves.
Suitcases were summoned, socks paired (miraculously), and the usual holiday game of “Why doesn’t this fit the same way it did on day one?” commenced. We’ve now got packing down to a fine art, if I may say so, though Muchele’s side still looks like a curated boutique while mine resembles a rummage sale. Departure is set for 08:30 sharp tomorrow – military precision, or at least as close as we get to it.
A Door Restored – It’s the Little Things
Now, here’s a small triumph worth toasting with a chilled glass of something cold and citrusy: the bedroom door has been fixed. Yes, after nearly a week of flapping about like a saloon entrance in a Western, our bedroom now boasts a fully functioning, closeable, lockable door.
No more awkward draughts or accidental morning intrusions. It’s amazing what a difference a bit of privacy can make, even when you’re sharing a place with your friends. Tonight, we shall sleep with the door firmly shut – just because we can.
An Afternoon at the Beach
The Shortest Journey to Paradise
Post-packing and minor DIY celebration behind us, we decided the day called for a beach fix. Fortunately, our condo on Anna Maria Island is a mere five-minute amble from one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline I’ve ever laid eyes on. Honestly, if I lived here, I’d probably develop webbed toes from the amount of time spent in the water.
So off we toddled, beach bags slung over shoulders, towels trailing in the breeze, and that slight smugness that comes from having absolutely nowhere else to be.
The Gulf – Warmer Than a Cuppa
Now, here’s the real surprise of the day – the Gulf of Mexico has outdone itself. The water was warmer than it had any right to be. Honestly, warmer than the Caribbean, warmer than Mexico proper, and certainly warmer than your average British bath. You could wade in without even the faintest gasp. None of that tiptoeing nonsense, just straight in with confidence.
There was a hearty breeze galloping in off the water, whipping up some proper waves – not just polite little ripples, but the kind you can bodysurf on (or get mildly walloped by, depending on your technique). I took full advantage, splashing about like a happy otter and catching a few good ones.
Memories in the Waves
And then, in between the dips and dives, a wave of nostalgia rolled in. It hit me harder than any wave that afternoon – a vivid memory of my dad, splashing in the sea, laughing like a kid on school holidays. He wasn’t the strongest swimmer, but that never stopped him. Whether it was the choppy waters of Barmouth in North Wales, the glorious sands of Devon and Cornwall, or that unforgettable family trip to Ca Savio near Venice, Dad always threw himself into the sea with childlike joy.
Today, I could almost see him in the surf beside me. And for a moment, I was back there – younger, carefree, salt on my skin and Dad’s laughter ringing in my ears. Rest in peace, Dad. You’re missed every single day, but your love of the sea lives on in every wave I ride.
Evening Wind-Down and Comfort Food
Beach to Balcony
We finally peeled ourselves off the sand around 18:00, skin kissed by the sun and hair filled with salt. Back at the condo, it was time for the classic post-beach routine: showers that last forever, rinsing the sand from the strangest of places, and the blessed relief of clean clothes and aftersun lotion.
The sun began to dip beneath the horizon, painting the sky in pastel hues that no camera can ever quite capture. That magical “golden hour” where even your sunburn looks photogenic.
Helen to the Rescue
Dinner tonight was a home-cooked masterpiece from Helen – omelette and chips. Pure comfort food, the kind that hugs your insides and reminds you that you don’t need Michelin stars when you’ve got a bit of grated cheese and a perfectly golden chip. Add in a glass of something cold, the sound of cicadas chirping in the background, and you’ve got yourself a five-star dining experience with no need for a reservation.
A Cool Florida Evening
Believe it or not, it’s actually turned a bit cooler tonight. Not British cold (we’re not reaching for the thermal socks just yet), but enough to require a thin jumper – or as the Americans would say, a “light layer.” There’s something wonderfully cosy about feeling the temperature drop after a long, sun-filled day. It makes you appreciate the warmth all the more.
Onward to Orlando
Tomorrow we hit the road again – destination: Orlando. Our final basecamp on this all-American road trip. Theme parks, rollercoasters, and probably some very suspect decision-making involving churros await.
The plan is to leave at 08:30 on the dot, which means tonight’s agenda is relatively light – a bit of telly, one last walk around the block to stretch the legs, and maybe (just maybe) another chapter of Killing Floor if I can keep my eyes open.
And I will be back on the blog tomorrow, of course, so you can expect a full update on the road trip across Florida, plus first impressions of our new digs in the city of mouse ears and magic.
Final Thoughts on a Peaceful Day
Not every day on holiday needs to be a spectacle. Sometimes the best moments are the quiet ones – a good book, warm water, memories that bubble up like seafoam, and simple food shared with friends and someone you love. Today was a day for the soul, a gentle pause before the excitement of what’s to come.
And honestly, if you can’t find joy in a properly cooked chip and a fixed bedroom door, then you’re not paying attention.
Today is dedicated to my dad who we sadly lost 6 months ago. An amazing man, gentle and kind. He couldn’t swim but he loved and laughed in the surf as I did today with him spirituality by my side. RIP dad you’re missed everyday.
