Gulf Coast Exploration

 

February 20, 2012 – Gulf Coast Exploration

On Monday we were back in tourist mode.  Our destinations – Tarpon Springs, then Dunedin, both north of Clearwater on the Gulf coast.  We started out on Route 19 again – ugh.  Without any major missteps, we arrived in Tarpon Springs around 11 in the morning.  Roy had advised us to head for the sponge docks, and that’s where we began our exploration of the town.  At one time, sponge diving was the major industry in Florida, according to the map we picked up in the visitor information center.  The Greek influence, a legacy of early Greek immigrants who founded the town, is apparent everywhere.  On Dodecanese Boulevard, we stumbled into the massive sponge emporium that calls itself Spongeorama.  Sponges of all shapes and sizes, loofahs, olive oil soaps and lotions were crammed into bins and baskets.  Feeling a bit claustrophobic, we decided not to stay for the video on sponge diving and rushed through the narrow and crowded aisles back into the sunshine.  

I was feeling hungry, so when we spied the Mykonos Restaurant on the corner of Athens Street, we went right in.  It’s a good thing we got there early and claimed a booth by the windows.  Within 20 minutes, the place was packed with the lunch crowd.  Our appetizer, char-grilled kalamari, was so generous that it filled a large dinner-size plate.  I was also hoping to tempt Elliott with a bowl of avgolemono soup (egg-lemon chicken soup) and a spanokopita (spinach pie), but he claimed he was full.  The spinach pie had the flakiest phyllo wrapping.  It crackled when I cut into it and the filling was a wonderful balance of perfectly seasoned spinach and cheese.  I even bent one of my “rules” and ate half of the bowl of soup.  The lemony chicken broth was thickened with egg yolks and studded with orzo.  I ended up eating about half of it although I don’t generally eat chicken.  (I generally avoid eating meat and poultry, but my dietary rules are not rigid.  The only absolute rule I follow is only to eat food that tastes good.)  There’s something about Greek food that I find very appealing.  Perhaps it’s the simple honesty of it.  Think really fresh food, cooked with care and presented without distracting embellishment.  At less than $25, our Greek feast was a true bargain.  

Back outside, we opted to skip a boat trip to see a sponge diving exhibition.  However, there’s no way to avoid sponges in Tarpon Springs.  Continuing down Dodecanese Boulevard, we were barraged by sponges – well, actually, by shops selling sponges and a variety of touristy souvenirs.  Even the Sponge Exchange is no longer a site where divers come to sell their wares.  Today, it’s a mini-mall catering exclusively to tourists.  About halfway down the main street, I turned to Elliott and said, “Once you’ve seen one sponge shop, you’ve seen them all.”   He concurred, so we spun around and headed back to the car (without any sponges, by the way). 

Using the map from the Tarpon Springs visitor center, I navigated us to Dunedin sans GPS.  Dunedin, located about 10 miles south of Tarpon Springs, prides itself on its Scottish heritage.  There’s a small downtown area (Main Street and Broadway) where we found lots of shops selling stuff.  I wasn’t in the mood to look at more stuff I had no interest in buying.  We walked down Main Street to the marina and the pier - smaller, of course, than St. Pete’s, but quite lovely.  After a short break for ice cream (Elliott) and iced coffee (me), we decided we’d had enough of playing tourist for one day.  

My brain was feeling a little weary, so I thought I’d rely on modern technology to direct us back to the Ponce.  Unfortunately, when we plugged in the GPS, it complained that its battery was feeling low, and the screen turned black a few moments later.  Maybe it’s not fair to blame poor old Garmin.  It could very well be the fault of the geezermobile’s aged cigarette lighter, which is supposed to provide the power for the device.  In any case, I had to rely on my inner navigational abilities, plus frequent glances at the folded up map from the visitors center.  Not only was the drive back on Alt. 19 a navigational challenge, it was also an assault on our aesthetic sensibilities.  It seems that to get from Interesting Point A to Interesting Point B in Florida, you are required to drive through miles and miles of unmitigated ugliness.  I suppose if I were to be completely honest, I’d acknowledge that it’s much the same back in Northern Virginia, with the addition of hills, winding roads, and more cars.  However, since I live there, I don’t see it as an outsider might. 

Anyway, we pulled into our regular parking place on Beach Drive late in the afternoon.  The full day excursion left both of us pretty exhausted.  I’m happy to stay in and eat some of those leftovers sitting in our refrigerator for dinner.   How many more days until I’ll be back in my own kitchen?