Saint Augustine to Daytona

Saturday was shots of the resort in which I was staying. Shooting rooms, pools, shorefront and then all around the area for building fronts, golf course, club and some town things. It was a day where the shots were annoying me with the head of the tripod not offering the balance I wanted and rooms were overexposed shore-side and under in the back. This is one reason to get much more pans and takes then needed. There’s got to be some gold in there. Roll with it.

The island had been a home to pirates and adventurers but now had a little shopping district and plenty of resorts down a curvy road with a live oak canopy. I did the little ‘taste test’ of the area by swinging in the little shops, sitting on the a bench and observing and chatting with those that may be in the know. I swung into the wine shop and spoke to them about their opinion on screw tops and if they thought the entire industry would be heading that way. “Most definitely,” responded the woman behind the counter, “or at least they better!” The man behind the counter added that the French bourdeaux makers might have an issue with it. I got a cheap Shiraz and then head to the smoke shop. Within there was looseleaf tobacco which made me pine for my pipes at home. I thought of bringing it, I just feel it might provide a hassle with bag checks, even thought completely legit! I saw that the corncob pipes were only $10 and they were real corncob pipes. I relented and grabbed a small bag of Cavendish and a pipe. The owner of the store mentioned that lining the bowl with honey would help the burn. If you’ve no honey, coffee can work as well. After more tips about the area I thanked her for her help and was on my way.

For lunch I ate on the rooftop of Carolyn’s and had myself a pork and apple sandwich. Imagine an apple pie with healthy greens placed inbetween two grilled, crusty pieces of French bread. I didn’t fall in love with the sandwich but kept in mind that it was healthy and something new.

I then drove to the old Spanish quarter of Fernandina. Other than some semi-old houses, roads kept in a gravel state to meet some historic preservation code and an open grass square with an interpretive sign along the coast, there was not much else. The most alluring thing to me was the adjacent cemetery with aged tombstones and an environment one would imagine in a place like Mirkwood. However, I doubted if video of this would bring the tourists.

Next it was a search for Fort Clinch. At the end of the island stood this Civil War-era fort. Even to a history junkie like myself it looked like just about every other fort I had seen. I took advantage of the location and went for a walk along its outer beach walls to look for sharks teeth. At times I’d crouch and scrape back and forth the layers of infinite shells. It made me think about their incredible diversity but also put into perspective why you find so many fossils like this in sandstone and limestone, once the bottom of immense oceans. I did not find any shark’s teeth but did find a dead Great Blue Heron. They are white when they are immature. That reminds me, turkey vultures are very, very common here. You’ll see them soaring above the highways in their great browness and light underwings or feasting upon a dead carcass along the side of the road.

For dinner it was to Sliders. The shrimp primavera was some pasta, in a watery, raw garlic sauce. The shrimp tasted great though -nice, firm and fresh. I also thought the raw garlic must be healthy. I was seated in the remnant seating area. More oft than not it is where solo mio ends up. There was a big sandbox with a bunch of kids escaping dinner boredom. It was cute but also kicked a lot of sand up into the air. If I hadn’t mentioned, the wind here has been tremendous as of late. This make the ocean more aroused but also helps sand find the inner recesses of your eye sockets and scrape away at them or burrow beneath the contacts. I had to laugh at the fact that I had come to dinner nursing an eye that now preferred to be closed and sand from a kid’s plastic shovel flew ever so gracefully into my other!

Back to the place.

The morning I packed my things to go. For some reason I had a brief two-minute episode where I flew into a purposeful panic, as I was under the impression that I had a shoot that I had overlooked. After a flurry of packing I looked again and realized that I was mistaken.

This morning was now the first gray and overcast I had seen and even more windy. I threw my gear in my dust-coated car and went to town to take a few shots for myself. I had neglected to bring my own camera the day before.

I was happy to be underway again and took I-95 in the direction of Daytona. My next destination was the oldest continually inhabited place in the United States, Saint Augustine! I knew I was in luck as I pulled into town and saw the streets named after significant Spanish explorers and then, the coolest fort I’ve seen in America! This was the great Catillo de San Marcos, the oldest fort in the U.S. You could notice the Spanish characteristics immediately in the rounded towers and had that arrow-head form at each of the corners for better artillery coverage.

The town little historic district had the feel of European streets. Two-story storefronts were pushed up to the street. Many people were walking, exploring and shopping. You could hear a lot of Spanish being spoken and could get lost in the feel of the place. There were minarets and towers sticking up all around the town. This place was settled originally by Minorcans along with Greeks and Italians. I stopped in the National Shrine of St. Photios, ate a wrap, some fudge and head south to Daytona.

The main drag of Daytona Beach has been very similar to Panama City Beach – Spring Break haven. The place I’m staying in is just a hotel, really, though it is called a resort. It does not have internet access so I’m stuck paying for it at Starbucks, believe it or not!

This day has been a special visit to the Daytona International Speedway. I’ve been able to get great footage of the 500 Experience and the track itself. The IMAX video was pretty good as well. This location of Florida is considered the furthermost extent of true Deep South. Naturally, paying one’s respects to Daytona Speedway is no different than visiting the St. Peter’s Basillica in Rome or the Coliseum in Greece. This is one of the greatest loved symbols of the south. We in the North have such a great misunderstanding of NASCAR (though we’ve some fans). But if you see how happy it makes people, it’s no different than being in a gay club or Cinquo de Mayo on West 7^th, we may not get it, but it legitimizes who these people are and is representative of greater human dignity. Boogity, boogity, boogity! (Darrel Waltrip)

Now it’s a matter of finding fitting some puzzle pieces of shot dates and lodging into the greater equation…