We are here on the lovely Gulf Coast for our annual family getaway, staying at Perdido Key, a white stretch of beach separating dry land, where I normally reside, from the Gulf of Mexico. This is not a complete trip report, obviously, but a quick post as I take a momentary break from the action (due in part to the pain of two sunburnt feet). We were here exactly two years ago (though not staying in the same condo) and are doing pretty much the same thing, which is, spending lots of time on the water’s edge. Today I practically dove into the chilly Gulf waters, bouncing and bobbing and generally getting swallowed up by waves. I’d forgotten how powerful those waves could be! There’s no feeling quite like getting swept along by a force beyond your control. I had also forgotten how incredibly awful seawater tastes, but got an unwelcome reminder. The ocean makes an eternal stereoscopic roar, and the wave pound incessantly, creating a never-ending playground for travelers like us who’ve enriched this place with our tourist dollars. We drove 14 straight hours to get here and most everybody else is like me: we’re going to soak up the sun and get our money (and hours’) worth. Here are a few photos.
Well, we just got back from Beach Trip 2017. This year’s trip wasn’t much for photos, though we tried. Two crises hit, neither of which could have been avoided or foreseen. (Well, maybe one, but who thinks to have their battery tested?)
On our second night in Perdido Key, my mother-in-law, Marilyn, came down with a mysterious stabbing pain in her abdomen. She’d been fine all night, enjoying a nice meal with all of us at Lambert’s Cafe, one of our dining destinations, but about 3 a.m., Christa and her dad had to rush her to the nearest emergency room, which was 25 miles from our condo. Turned out, she was suffering from a kidney stone, one that was too large for her to simply pass on her own. She required an outpatient procedure. However, the fact that the date was July 4 meant the procedure had to be delayed for a day. So, Marilyn spent three full days in the hospital – a devastating blow to her husband and kids.
Christa spent two nights by her mom’s hospital bad; I spent one of those nights with her. Brother-in-law Larry took care of their dad, who was, I think blaming himself and feeling overly responsible for everyone’s good time. There were some tense moments, and the whole situation was compounded by the unfortunate fact that Marilyn felt terribly ill and was in a lot of pain.
So, a good 24 hours of my trip was spent in hospital, or en route to the hospital, all while trying to have some semblance of a vacation. (This was true for everyone.) The kids did manage to have a good time, swimming and tanning and gathering shells and staying up late. Two of the grandkids did catch small sharks swimming in the Gulf. And we did the usual eating and shopping.
Sunburn is a constant concern on the beach, and I managed to burn the tops of both feet. Christa also received a nasty burn on her back. We don’t know what happened; we both soaked each other in sunscreen. One of those things. For much of the time, I was literally hobbled.
We enjoyed Fourth of July fireworks on the beach, though everyone’s good time was muted by Marilyn’s absence. We were able to see the fireworks display at Flora-Bam (a honky tonk straddling the state line, where Christa once got hit on by a woman), and farther west, at Gulf Shores. Both were spectacular, but too far for me to make photos.
I spent four or five hours total in the water. It’s wonderful swimming in the Gulf. I love the weightless sensation, the waves, the feel of warm sand underfoot. My nephew snagged a big fish that brought the attention of a guy on the beach who claimed that that fish would fetch at least $20 in a restaurant. I held it by the tail before we released it; it was slimy and unappealing. Zachary caught at least three other fish, wading out hip-deep in the swelling surf to cast his line. The dude is an excellent fisher. I was surprised to learn that mostly what you catch along the beach are catfish.
We visited Lulu’s, another favorite restaurant. It is owned by Lucy Buffett, sister of Jimmy. We heard that the CEO of Apple had visited the restaurant just the prior week. I bought Jimmy’s Tales from Margaritaville in the gift shop, and ate the cheeseburger in paradise, which was topped with a grilled pineapple slice, crispy bacon and, yes, creamy pimento cheese. The “French-fried potatoes” were amazing.
We also dined at a beach joint called The Hangout, which was too crowded for my taste. We had to wait three hours for a table, during which time we mostly just …. hung out. Fortunately, the house band rocked, ripping through a setlist ranging from Journey to Pearl Jam to Prince to, yep, Lynyrd Skynyrd. (Journey itself also played in concert that same night, but we missed getting tickets.)
Marilyn was released from the hospital on Thursday but was too weak to enjoy the beach, and her husband, of course, stayed right with her at all times. There was some talk of leaving a day early which sparked some controversy. We took family photos on a beautiful afternoon on the beach – the sky was perfect and we had plenty of crashing waves, providing interesting backgrounds. Christa was happy with many of her images; I felt that my own photography was somewhat stagnant and predictable. I didn’t get to shoot many of the things I wanted to simply because, unavoidably, there wasn’t much time for it.
On our last night, we all piled into my and Christa’s Toyota Highlander to head out for Adventure Island, where we played putt-putt golf until midnight, and when I turned the ignition, the engine wouldn’t crank. It took four tries to start her up. Shit. It seemed like the battery. We managed to do all that we needed to do, but the car was clearly having problems – the last thing we needed to have happen.
Facing a 10 a.m. deadline the next morning – we had to vacate the condo exactly on time or get locked out and charged an extra day – I hustled another 45 miles up the road to the only Walmart Supercenter with an auto center. Sure enough, the battery died just as I parked at the garage. They managed to replace the battery within an hour, and I got back to the condo by 9:30. By 10 a.m., we were on the road again. About 11 hours later, we were back in Magnolia. And here I am.