Listing Through Life

There was a minor snowfall in Chicago on Saturday afternoon. When I got to the airport an hour and 15 minutes before my flight was due to leave, I found out it had been delayed an hour. I could have spent another hour in St. Augustine or gone out to see Fort Matanzas or spent more time on the beach. But still I was better off than my coworkers who had been at the conference with me. They were rerouted to Detroit for a couple hours.

I’d had a long, stressful day. I bought a McRib at McDonald’s and ate it slowly while watching the gulls that were walking around on the glass roof above my head.

Then I went to my gate and watched awful cartoons for a while. A woman sitting a few seats down saw me take this photo. Then she walked over to where her husband was sitting and told him. He got up and walked by like he had somewhere to go, then stopped and took a sneaky look at me. He then walked back and sat down next to his wife. I heard him say, “I didn’t see it.” To which she replied, “He must have put it back in his bag.” They didn’t need to be sneaky. I would have shown it to them if they’d asked.

Southwest Airlines flight 2365 was delayed another 25 minutes, but it finally took off at 8:15. I found a seat on the aisle in the third row. I said to the woman by the window, “If we pretend like we know each other, maybe nobody will sit between us.” We piled our stuff on the seat and acted like we were acquainted, even saying a few words now and then. It worked. There were 18 empty seats on the plane and one of them was next to me.

Our flight attendant had one of the funniest pre-flight speeches I’ve heard. Among other things, she kept referring to the two male flight attendants as her ex-husband and new boyfriend.

When she brought the drink service, I asked for something diet and caffeine free. She brought a Diet Sprite with orange juice, which she referred to as a virgin mimosa. It was tasty, and when she came by later, I asked for another. Then I asked her to pose with the chair. She agree, but when she turned around and faced me, she started feeling silly. I just happened to take the photo at the perfect moment.

After retrieving my car, I drove across the Bridge of Lions onto Anastasia Island. The next half hour or so didn’t go as planned. I found the St. Augustine Lighthouse, but I didn’t want to pay to get inside because I didn’t have time, or didn’t think I did anyway. I tried to get a photo with the chair from outside the fence, but it didn’t work. My plan was to drive south along Florida A1A, stopping at a beach for a short time, then heading over to I-95 and heading to Orlando.

But I blindly relied on my GPS and soon found myself cruising along Highway 1, several miles inland from the shore. I didn’t want to leave without even a glance at the ocean, so I took the next left and found A1A again in Crescent Beach. A little while later, I found a parking lot in Fort Matanzas National Monument. I strode down the boardwalk across the dunes and finally saw the ocean. A quick walk across the sand, three minutes to pick up a few shells and take a few photos and it was time to go. I don’t think I was on the beach for five minutes.

Only later, when I got home, did I realize that if I hadn’t done all that backtracking, I probably would have been able to go up in the lighthouse and seen the beach that was right up the road. That’s what happens when you try to do to much in too short a time. For the record, as I resumed my ride south, I looked back over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of Fort Matanzas. Of course, there wasn’t time to take the ferry across the river to see it well.

I drove across the Matanzas River on the Bridge of Lions and found the St. Augustine Lighthouse. It was impressive, but I didn’t have time to pay to get onto the ground or climb the tower. (Although, if I knew then that my flight would be delayed, I would have.) I took all these photos from outside the fence.

And then I made a mad dash for the Orlando Airport, two+ hours away. And then I realized I hadn’t seen the ocean, so I made a quick detour over to Florida A1A and found a beach that was part of Fort Matanzas National Monument. I dashed down the boardwalk, spent about four minutes on the beach and dashed back to the car. The only glimpse I had of Fort Matanzas was back over my shoulder as I pulled away.

After the British burned St. Augustine in 1702, the Spanish built a line of fortifications to protect the town. This wall was rebuilt and repaired many times over the next century. The final construction took place in 1808. These gates, near Castillo de San Marcos, are the only original remnants (other sections have been reconstructed).

The words on the base of this monument read: “The discoverer of Florida Juan Ponce de Leon landed near this spot 1513.”

He must have been short because the statue is 4’11″ and is said to be life-sized.

The guy who donated the statue to the city also donated the lions at the end of the Bridge of Lions.

See that deck in the left background? Here’s the view from that deck looking north with Castillo de San Marcos in the background.

Somewhere in the family archives, there’s a photo of me standing in front of this house when I was about 13. It was taken by my mother. I couldn’t visit St. Augustine without a return trip to the house. There was nobody to take my picture this time, so this is the best I could come up with.

The Gonzalez-Alvarez House is thought to have been built shortly after the British burned the town in 1702. I believe it used to be called the oldest house in America, but no more. It’s now just the oldest house in St. Augustine which, in turn, is the oldest continuously-occupied European settled town in America.

Looking across the Matanzas River to Anastasia Island, with a Little Blue Heron wading in the tidal flats. The chair is on the sea wall. The Bridge of Lions is about 200 yards off to the left.

On the Saturday after CPC, I drove north to Green Cove Springs for my niece’s wedding. My flight home from Orlando was scheduled at 6:50, which gave me approximately two-and-a-half hours to be a tourist. I drove into St. Augustine and discovered that every other tourist in Florida had the same idea. The place was crawling with people. I paid $10 for the last spot in a downtown parking lot and walked to Castillo de San Marcos. It too was crawling with people.

The fort was originally built in 1695 by the Spanish. They fought off two attacks by the British and held it until 1763 — a which point they gave it to the British. In 1783, the British gave it back, which makes one wonder what all the fighting was about. In 1821, the Spanish ceded it to the United States.

I didn’t have time to take my time. I walked around the parade ground, climbed the stairs to the upper level and walked around up there, then exited and walked around the outside, all in about half an hour. The rooms inside the walls were not furnished. There were some signs, but I didn’t stop to read any of them. My strategy was to photograph everything and read about it later.

Several reenactors were dressed as Spanish soldiers. When they marched upstairs for a cannon firing demonstration, the tourists followed like sheep. I used the time to take the few photos that don’t include crowds, including the one with the lone soldier who stayed in the parade ground.