You’ve Got Mail From: Florida!
Hello from Florida.
What a treat it has been. Where should I start? Our accommodations can be best described as a metal box made of leftover Ikea parts. The walls are roughly as thick as a coffee filter and the AC maxes out at 68 degrees, so it is somehow both frigid AND humid.
Did I mention we have not seen the beach? It has literally not stopped raining for 36 hours.
The only coffee shop we could find was playing a reggaeton instrumental version of the 1971 Van Morrison classic “Wild Night” on a loop. We sat there for three hours.
We saw a squished baby turtle on the road while walking Moxie, which is honestly the most I’ve been able to relate to anyone since I’ve been here.
Between rounds of blacklight mini golf and turtle funerals we made the trek to Rosemary Beach and Alys Beach. We enjoyed it, although we did wonder whether we had stumbled into that town from Edward Scissor Hands where everything is shiny and smiley and a little fucked up. But, I mean, we’d definitely live there if we had to.
More love letters on the way. Although, not from the Rosemary Beach post office, because they do not have a mailbox there. Do you think that’s an aesthetics thing, or more of a Hotel California-esque “Who could you possibly need to communicate with on the outside” sort of deal?
Fahr + Away