In Richmond Hills, Quality Inn's breakfast upgrade was probably not worth the $2 per person charge. Crummy cold eggs, bacon, and pre-made waffle quarters. But cereals, juices, and fruit were fine.
Began driving I-95 south and received lots of good info from Georgia Visitor's center just above Brunswick.
The "Golden Isles" include St. Simons (pronouced "simmons"), Sea Island, and Jekyll Island.
St. Simons displayed spanish moss abundant in verdant neighborhoods, and still-quaint three-block touristy beach shops near the lighthouse.
Before returning to mainland to continue to Jeckyll, I zigged to see why map placed more shops in central St. Simons. At first, a small, dull strip-mall, but then a central round-about and nice cul-de-sac of older shops, businesses, and restaurants.
Witnessing people sitting OUTSIDE (98º) and eating at "Gnat's Landing" convinced us the food must be good. Even Renate sat outside!! (There were fans, but it was hot. AC indoors was filled.)
My blackened Mahi, Mahi was normal good, but Renate's "smoked, pulled, chopped, bar-b-qued pork" was the best. This was 3rd or 4th time on this trip with similar food. Hands down best. Tender, great flavor, not hidden by sauce. I liked it so much, I bought the T-shirt!
Both restrooms included this uniqueness:
Wash tub basin set in timber vanity. Faucet handles in cast iron: Gnats and Landing
We now headed back west across the wide waters and marshes that separate the “Golden Isles” from US 17 in Brunswick on the mainland. I regret we did not have more time for the luringly advertised trolley ride of St. Simons. It has a rich history, related – the brochure assures – by a witty and beloved local guide.
The gleaming white suspension bridge on US-17 that spans the wide Brunswick river is the “largest bridge in Georgia”. We had seen it from miles away on our way to St. Simons. It stands apart from others of its kin by the nearly 360º view of flat marshes stretching to the horizons. Really striking.
Unexpectedly a left arrow at its bottom tells us to turn NOW for Jekyll Island. Surprise #2: a sign at Jekyll’s causeway entrance stopped me in my tracks: “No gasoline ahead”.
I pondered my failure to buy gasoline sooner. Oh yeah – that morning next to the Quality Inn a gas station advertised $2.57 per gallon. The price jumped to $2.77 when I refused a car wash.
Pissed off, I drove off, and easily maneuvered 75 miles without it. Gasoline would always be available near civilization. I figured.
Now, although my 1/8 tank would probably be sufficient to dash in and about Jekyll Island and back, I wimped out, made a U-turn, and asked a grounds maintenance worker which direction was closest for gasoline. He pointed south.
In retrospect, I think the closest gasoline would have been in Brunswick, back northward over the bridge.
MEANWHILE, Renate had an epiphany over map-reading. She spied “Fernandina” in our southerly direction and announced that she (we) already knew enough about rich beach and golf resorts, which Jekyll Island was purported to be. (Heck! There was gonna be a $5 charge just to get ONTO the island!)
So she instructed me to “mush” ahead to explore Amelia Island and Fernandina. It also moved us into Florida.
I made a quick – okay, not so quick – detour to see St. Marys. Quite a haul to “historic” St Marys on the water. Two blocks with a few restaurants and shops face a waterfront park. Not sure if it’s time is past or coming, but I can imagine it growing as other destinations over-build.
Florida, and soon Exit 373 to Fernandina. I was in for more of a surprise than Renate b/c I took a surf trip here about 32 years ago!! I saw only the beach and the state park where we camped. Little did I know of an “historic downtown”. Perhaps it was a dump then, but today, for about 7 by 3 blocks, this town is a gem for touring.
The Hampton Inn in the historic downtown was too pricey, and we went all the way back to Saddler Ave to the “Amelia Hotel at the Beach”. Despite knowing better, we got suckered into its name. It is not ON the beach, but across the street from it. A large, not-pretty, blocky building in an area that looked depressing to Renate.
We returned to Center St/Atlantic Ave and checked into the Comfort Inn. The heavy twin sliding glass doors to the lobby had to be pulled apart by hand (a part was on order). Fortunately, that was NOT portent of the room, probably the nicest we had on the whole trip. Besides the frig, microwave, and desk, there was enough room for a small pull-out couch. Large granite vanity. Nice.
For dinner, Renate picked the most alluring site (sight) – Bretts Waterway Café.
Photos seldom impart the feel of a place. The five pictures below fail miserably. They were taken from nearly the same spot in front of Bretts. There are paper mill plants in two opposite directions. A working railroad yard is a block away south, and a working commercial port visible a half-mile north. To the right of Bretts are picturesque docks for small fishing and private boats. Turn around and – beyond the single railroad crossing – you’re looking up the 7 blocks of quaint, touristy Center street with the blockish autumn toned Hampton Inn anchoring its right.
South of Bretts Waterway, beyond the parking lot is a working paper mill. The make cartons and other paper products.
Half a mile northward, another paper milll and a working port.
The Hampton Inn is south of Center Street. A large Railroad yard lies beyond.
Brett's Waterway Cafe
Docks to the right of Bretts
Looking up Center Street from Brett's Waterway
Did I mention that Renate picked the restaurant? Well! They informed us there’d be a 45 minute wait! For two! I pocketed their electronic table-ready buzzer and we lucked out finding two seats at the bar – facing the water behind it through glass windows. The menu of bar appetizers seriously beckoned. I gave in to a Yeungling and fried calamari while Renate ordered house chardonnay and the elaborately described grits with chorizo. (What else was in it? Butter? Cream? Cheese? What spices?)
All I need say is – we returned the buzzer and – 30 minutes later - left content. Across the bar a party of five spent considerable time putting away their bowl of tender, fried calamari.
We left the restaurant 10 minutes before the sun would set. We waited for it. Others seemed to do the same, though not like at Mallory in Key West.
After sunset, we weren’t done sightseeing. On the return to our Comfort Suites, I wanted to see the northernmost point of Fernandina. In the hilly streets of simple housing were large trees dripping with spanish moss. I was surprised to meet another bridge. It was small, and led me to an end: Dee Dee Bartels Nature Center and Fishing Pier, which had large parking lots designed for trailer-hauled boats and a wide boat launch ramp.
Boat ramp at Dee Dee Bartels
Our hotel was only a block from the beach, and so we parked for awhile, facing the ocean, listening to a live guitarist sing and play on an open porch beachfront hotel/restaurant.
A view from the beach of patrons dining with live music at "Sandy Bottoms Beach Bar & Grill"
As final nights go, this was a good one.
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