It's hard not to relax in Boca Grande because it's such a quiet little spot on Gasparilla Island. Just so we're all on the same page, Boca Grande, FL should not be confused with Boca Raton, FL - totally different city, totally different coast and totally different lifestyle. Here's a reference point in case you are clueless about this gem (like I was prior to 2007):
See - faces the Gulf Coast...just like Texas. :) I knew I liked it for a reason!
If you look at the map, do you see where Atlanta is in relation to Boca? Way up there on the map? REALLY, REALLY FAR AWAY. Because we couldn't leave the dog-child, we drove aaaaaaaaaall the way down from Atlanta with Enda. Fun times...
We did break up the trip with a stop in Gainesville to visit James' and my "niece", Katelyn, who is currently studying at the University of Florida. (I'm using quotes because technically she's a first-cousin-once-removed, but since her mom is closer to a sister than a cousin, we think Kate is closer to a niece than a cousin, too. I know, I know, it's confusing, but we like to blur family lines down here in the South.) It was great to spend some time with her and reminisce on how awesome college-days were. We were thrilled when she decided to join us on the trip, and still feel bad that she had to share the backseat of our little hybrid with a gassy Vizsla for several hours.
I don't need to go into too many details about the lazy 3-day weekend, because it really revolved around laying around, catching up with family, eating, walking Enda, beach/sandbar, and eating again. Oh, and then we'd eat some more. So, instead of boring narrative I'll switch to some pictures of the different beaches and the town.
Because the fur-baby requires (an obscene amount of) exercise just to act like a normal dog, we walked up-and-down the beaches and up-and-down the main drag multiple times a day. At least the scenery looks like this:
When Enda discovered that past the sand there was water....have mercy, she would do everything in her power to get into the ocean. Including dragging her people into the water with her. We had to keep her on the leash because our little water dog would probably attempt a long distance swim out to sea if we had let her go.
One night we boated over to another small island for dinner, and got to witness the most gorgeous sunset over the water. A camera (and novice photographer) can't even do it justice! The only thing more impressive that night after the orange sun was the even more orange harvest moon. Breathtaking.
And then, one of the afternoons, we decided to forgo the beach and head to a lovely little sandbar that is affectionately known as the Redneck Yacht Club. Haven't the slightest clue how it came upon this nickname....
Oh...maybe that's why. Your eyes do not deceive! This gentleman's swim trunks are, in fact, cut off jeans. That is a cig hanging from his lips. Obviously this guy is an [insert your least favorite SEC school] fan. Keeping it classy, folks!
I'm teasing a bit about the Redneck Riviera, but it's really quite an enjoyable way to take in the sun and water. Heck, I even consumed a Mich Ultra...in a CAN. Not part of my usual MO, but I'm sure my mama is proud that I'm representing my country-gal roots






























