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Published: August 24th 2012
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About an hour's drive east from New Orleans is Biloxi, Mississippi. We had pondered spending a night in Biloxi before we arrived. Thereafter, we concluded that we would only be passing through, and quickly at that. Perhaps Biloxi was much nicer in its heyday, and in all fairness, Katrina pretty much wiped this place off the map, but the town lacked any allure from what we could garner in an hour's time. A handful of big casinos were dotted along Biloxi's strip of coastline. We took a stroll through the Hard Rock Biloxi and once inside, you wouldn't be able to tell that you were not in the Hard Rock Vegas but for the thick southern drawl of the majority of patrons. Outside the casino, the ocean is still too brown and merky to be inviting as we're not yet so far from the Mississippi delta. We snapped a few pictures and continued on our way to what was our Plan B for this night.
Another few hours down the coast and we were nearing Mobile, AL. While we had no big aspirations to see Mobile, our hopes were to visit Dauphin Island, a barrier island of the coast of
Alabama. Without much luck in finding a place to stay on Dauphin Island in the hour preceding our arrival to the area, we elected to spend the night in Mobile, a geographically ideal launching point to head to the island the following morning. Unexpectedly, Mobile itself proved a lovely stop. We only spent time in the quaint downtown area - clean and quiet, with a southern sophistication. A handful of restaurants created a seemingly fun atmosphere. We dined on some fantastic pizza, piled high with our chosen toppings. Before the food was even served, I had to give the restaurant, the name of which I cannot recall, two thumbs up for serving Kona Brewing Company Fire Rock (from Hawaii) and Bells Oberon (from Michigan), two of my favorites.
The next morning, after our first night on the road as four, we left our Mobile hotel and drove south. The highway hugged the coast and in no time we were sandwiched between beach estates on our left and extensive marsh lands on our right. As we reached the edge of the mainland, we crossed the three mile stretch of ocean separating Dauphin Island via its bridge, unmistakably, the Dauphin Island
Bridge, which guided the road barely above sea level aside from a dramatic hump in its middle.
Where the bridge connects to the island there is some established soil... some forest, some grass. But as we drove the length of the island the vegetation faded completely. Houses stood on stilts directly in the sand on both sides of the island which must have only been a few hundred feet wide. At the far west end of the island, one of very few public streches of beach would become our spot for the day. This was more the stereotypical image of your Gulf beach. Warm, clear, calm water lapping onto fine white sand. While the 40 or so beachgoers, us included, huddled close to the small parking area, the beach continued several hundred yards to the west before looping around to the mainland side of the island. Just a 2 minute walk and you could have a stretch of the beach all to yourself. This was the kind of road trip stop I really love... beautiful, yet not too touristy, and clearly, a destination I would only ever wind up at if I was driving through the area with time
Standing barefoot in the snow
well it looked like snow... the beaches in Destin were like a white powder to spare. A few hours of unrelenting sun built up our appetites and we left the beach in search of some local seafood. The Common Loon Cafe, where they fried or grilled the shrimp catch that their fisherman neighbor hauled in that day, fit the bill.
With a tinge of red to our skin and food in our bellies, we continued east, hugging the gulf all the while. Until that morning, we had planned to drive from Dauphin Island to Savannah, Georgia, but as the weather had constantly played in our favor and we had a "rain day" yet to make use of, we decided to break up the long drive to Savannah with a night in the Florida panhandle. Earlier that week, someone in New Orleans had thrown out the name Destin, Florida and mentioned its very, very, very white sand beaches. Being somewhat on the way to Savannah, we figured why not.
While the beaches in Destin lived up to their hype, the town is an overpriced tourist trap. At the "marina" (granted, it is actually a marina), a few giant hotels tower over a boardwalk strip of expensive restaurants featuring unimpressive menus. Boat after boat
returned from chartered fishing trips and hung their red snappers on display for the customers to take photos beside and to then sell to those passing by. Small crowds gathered around children's rides and street performers. It was a zoo.
The following morning we rose early to get another taste of Destin's beaches before we departed for a long day of driving. Instead of the condo and hotel ridden beaches we had sampled the night before, we visited Beasley State Park in Destin. We were the only one's on the beach at 8 in the morning, and the sand, literally as white as snow, was blinding in the morning light. The water, like at Dauphin Island, was like a luke warm bath. Best of all, at our backs was nothing more than some small forest and shrubbery. I couldn't help but think that there are so many beautiful spots in the world, and how many more there must have been in the time before humanity had blemished so much of it. It was beautiful.
A rinse and a breakfast later and we were on the road again... Next stop, Savannah.
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