MANATEES AND MALE MEMBERS

I realise with horror, that it's around 35 years since my first ever travel feature appeared in print. I remember it well. Although I was serving in the Royal Navy, I wrote up my experiences for my local newspaper, the Kirkintilloch Herald, now part off the giant Johnson Press Group. Things of course were very different then. Having to wait for photographs to be developed and printed, then posting the package off to the newspaper and seeing the results appear in print some weeks later.
Now, my photographs are being seen by the editorial people within hours of them being taken and people are commenting in some numbers about my blog. That's really useful because it means that I can correct any factual errors before they appear in print.
Over that time, I have encountered some wonderful people, many of whom have become lifelong friends. I have also met a lot of folk who have either been in the job for too long and become complacent or who clearly can't be bothered to find out what a journalist actually wants. It's lazy PR and it's completely counterproductive. No journalist is ever going to write about things which don't fit the brief.
Sometimes, you get teams which really impress. I have been blessed today with one of those. Sparky, responsive, intelligent, flexible. Jessica and Michelle from the Bradenton Convention and Visitor Bureau are absolute stars.
Jessica, who's pretty new to the area, was on the doorstep of my sumptuous accommodation bright and early this morning to really get to grips with what I was after. I took her on a tour of the apartment which, I have discovered is 2000 plus square feet with an additional 300 square feet of terrace. I measured 41 metres from my walk in wardrobe to the furthest extent of the spare room. Amazing! A week in this wonderful place (www.annamaria.com) for around $2500.
As Jessica comes up with ideas, back in the office, Michelle fixes things up, changes times, arranges new activities. It's a hugely impressive bit of team work
We start at the Island Creperie and plan the day in a most civilised manner over breakfast. Conservative me goes for scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, wrapped up in a wholemeal pancake, but thin as a rake twenty something Jessica wades in for something disgracefully creamy, sweet and chocolaty. I just couldn't do it. Well not before nine in the morning.
Olivier, the chef/owner is originally from Paris and delights in telling me how the French are triumphing over the Scots and the English in the rugby six nations. It's the first place I have actually had a really decent cup of coffee since I came to the USA, not just some watery grey stuff.
Nearby to the creperie is the 720 feet long Bradenton Beach pier. We are amused by 'kamikaze' pelicans, who hurtle themselves into the water after their prey. I am highly amused when Jessica goes into a cafe to enquire when the pier was built, in response to a question from me, to find me pointing to a huge '1921' built into the structure.
I joke with an elderly couple that they are seating on the swing seat traditionally used for proposing marriage. After declaring that they are 44 years too late, they give up their spaces to allow Jessica and I to move in. For some inexplicable reason, she then heads off at a brisk trot in the opposite direction. Hmmm.
We head for the beaches, which are almost as nice as the ones at Fort de Soto. At one point, a notice encourages us to take our shoes off, so we don't 'dirty the sand'! Jessica gets back on the wedding track, telling me how nice it is to have the ceremony on the beach. This apparently gives the blushing bride the opportunity to wear flip flops under her wedding gown.
We head off to meet Jennifer Taylor, a Londoner from Bermondsey. She and her husband have lovingly restored a 1926 wooden house into a delightful six bedroom B and B. Jessica likes it because 'The Londoner' (www.thelondonerinn.com) also does a pretty mean traditional afternoon tea and, having spent six months working in the UK capital, she knows that Jennifer will always have a decent cup of tea on the go. Having had a really good breakfast, I turn down the chance of a freshly baked scone with home made lemon curd, only to be teasingly scolded by Jessica afterwards for doing so. My host loves lemon curd!
I must confess that, before my visit to Florida, I knew nothing about manatees, except that they are an extremely endangered species. But Michelle has fixed up for me to meet Snooty, a 61 year old, 1180 pound, West Indian Manatee who was born in captivity. Jeff Rogers of the South Florida Museum takes us 'back stage' at the aquarium, where Snooty, a real showman, delights Jessica and I with his enthusiasm for people. Marilyn, the aquarium director and Caitlin, who has just finished a public show, talk with some pride about their huge mammal. Snooty and two other younger manatees, which are being rehabilitated back to the wild, exist on a diet mainly of lettuce leaves with a mix of other vegetables and boy does their breath stink.
Bradenton is where the Tropicana orange juice is made, but they don't do trips any more, which is a pity. But Michelle has come up with a 'must see' in the town's 'Village of the Arts'. Now this is quirky. All sorts of artists have gathered together in one area and turned the area into a colourful, eclectic mix. The 'must see' is a tree sculpted out of stainless steel where male members (I am not sure how else to put this bit) hang down like leaves. I have no idea what the message might be!
We are now well into the afternoon, so Jessica asks me again if I regret turning down the scone with lemon curd. However, the Bonni Bakes cafe squeezes us in before the staff all go home. Guest chef Amy Scott has recruited her mother, Mary Jane and brother Christopher to recreate southern style cooking. So we have grits, corn pie and Mardi gras red beans. We are persuaded to wear strings of gaudily coloured beads around our necks to celebrate 'Fat Tuesday', which it is. The meal is rounded off by Mary Jane's absolutely yummy Key Lime pie, the recipe for which I just HAVE to have!
Jessica ends the day with another tour round Ana Maria island, pointing out places I might like to go on the bike which I'll have for the next couple of days. Ana Maria has wonderful beaches, is laid back and tranquil, with some seriously quirky folk. My quest to discover the 'Hidden Florida' is, in recent days, yielding some seriously good results.

Amazing, awesome, incredible!

Holmes Beach, Ana Maria Island, Monday Night

I am sad to be leaving Pasa Tiempo. Just as I am getting settled, it is time to go. I am also sorry not to be able to say goodbye to Lotta, the manager. But Ivone, the owner is in the office and has kindly printed out a whole load of changes to my itinerary. I need someone to get a grip on things. I am being double booked all over the place and it's getting me pretty stressed. The trouble is that pieces of paper are flying through the ether to and from London and, by the time I get to see them, the decision makers across the pond are fast asleep. It's one of the frustrations of time zones, but it's also the first time in almost thirty years of travel writing that I have left home without every i dotted and t crossed.
I'm also a bit agitated because my American bank hasn't managed to get my ATM card to me and my cash dollars are running low. The US is proving to be pretty pricey, especially eating out. But I am cheered when I discover a branch of the Fifth Third Bank just a couple of miles from my hotel and Mark Christnacht, the manager, rings my branch in Michigan, arranges for me to get more cash without the required piece of plastic and for a card to be ordered for delivery when I get to Naples. Fingers crossed.
After yesterday's trip to a State Park, today I am visiting a park run by an individual county. Fort de Soto Park is in Pinellas County. The drive is, once again, pretty bloody awful and there's nothing to write home about at all. Just concrete, traffic and advertising signs.
As I approach the Park, things brighten up, with some VERY expensive looking properties on either side of the road.
I call at what looks like an impressive campsite to get directions to the main office, where I am to meet my host for the day, park supervisor, Jim Wilson.
He scoops me up in his four wheel drive and takes me on what he calls his 'Readers' Digest' tour.
Well, if I was impressed by Caladesi, I am absolutely and utterly overwhelmed by Fort de Soto. It truly has everything. Over 1100 acres of beautifully maintained park, 6 miles of beaches, a fort dating from 1898, with huge mortars to protect the entrance to Tampa Bay, and unlimited parking. It needs it. More than three million folk come here each year and I can see why.
Jim, who first came here in 1975, is justifiably proud of the improvements that have been done over the years. with just 32 staff, half of what used to be here, Fort de Soto has something for everyone. Nature, bike, canoe, cycle and wheelchair accessible trails, one of the biggest boat launching areas in the entire United States, where 30 craft can be launched simultaneously, and much more besides. So enormous is the place, that it's entirely possible to find your own little part of paradise, up to two miles from the nearest car park. Jim's got a great team of volunteers, without whom it wouldn't be able to operate. Amazingly, there is no entrance charge, something Jim is very keen to preserve. A local sales tax, 'A Penny for Pinellas', helps to fund special projects.
On holiday weekends, Jim is thinking more about the 40 tons of rubbish that will have to be removed, rather than the visitor numbers.
Incredibly, when the county bought the land for just 18,000 dollars in the 1930's, there were many who balked at the extravagance of it all. How farsighted they are now seen to be.
With 315 species of birds, Fort de Soto is one of the US's havens for twitchers. Jim even stands under a pine tree trying to show me a Great Horned Owl, but the enormous bird remains stubbornly hidden.
We have in Norfolk some outstanding caravan and camping grounds, but even my friend Michael Timewell at Kelling Heath would marvel at the facilities at Fort de Soto. Over 230 very spacious pitches, many with direct access to the shoreline, and all equipped with water and electric hook ups. People with tents can be pitched next door to a million dollar Provost recreational vehicle. From just over $33 per night, it's no surprise that people are not allowed to stay for more than two weeks at a time. It is, without doubt, the most incredible camp site I have ever seen. With a 72% year round occupancy, the camping area contributes $2.5 million annually, almost single handedly paying for the entire running costs of the park.
Jim shows me the 5.5 mile long Sunshine Skyway bridge, the world's longest bridge with a suspended central span. In 1980, 35 people were killed when the ship, Summit Venture, collided with the bridge, causing a bus and six cars to fall 150 feet. Most of the old bridge was demolished, but parts have been retained as a fishing pier.
An hour after leaving Fort de Soto, I cross the bridge heading south, again hating the traffic with a passion.
The final nine miles from Bradenton to Ana Maria Island is truly horrid. An endless line of motor vehicles and traffic lights. Absolutely ghastly.
But I am much cheered by the astonishing Casa Costiera apartment, which is to be my home for the next three nights. When I tell you that the master bathroom has a his and hers shower, PLUS a enormous jacuzzi bath, you get the picture. The wardrobe is almost drive through, rather than walk in. The bedroom has, of course, full length patio doors onto an enormous terrace overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. This is unbelievable luxury in a location to die for and I suspect I will gasp when I hear the going rental rate. There's space for six but so far I have not persuaded anyone to join me. I am touched that Jessica and Michelle from the local tourist office have thought to welcome me. Michelle pops by with a little welcome goodie bag and Jessica calls to say hi and fix up a breakfast meeting tomorrow. Now that is how I expect a tourist board to be. Gold star!
An hour later, I stand on the terrace to watch the sun going down in a cloudless Floridian sky. The sunset is everything a Gulf of Mexico sunset is cracked up to be.
It really has been an amazing day.