Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 31, 1993 TAG: 9310240248
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: F-6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By Liz Willen and Greg B. Smith
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Thankfully, it dominates a competing reality: of honky-tonk, water slides, wet T-shirt contests and hordes of spring breakers nursing hangovers at the local pancake house.
The Panhandle stretches 200 miles from Pensacola east to Apalachee Bay south of Tallahassee. It has typically been a popular vacation spot for Southerners, from frat boys to families from Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia.
The families come in search of a more affordable Florida, a place with beautiful beaches (known as the Emerald Coast) and plenty of kiddie-park entertainment where you can stay without driving your credit card bill into a hole. But when choosing a Panhandle destination, it is important to remember that something else separates the area from the more usual Florida destinations: the weather. Panhandle temperatures drop into the 50s during the winter. As a result, peak season in the Panhandle is spring break, the first weeks after schools let out in May and June, and the rest of the summer, straight through until Labor Day.
We visited during an overcast, off-season week in late September, when the gulf remained a good 10 degrees warmer than any northeastern coastal beach. The water was warmer than the air, and we happily body-surfed and bobbed in the waves despite the cloudy skies.
To avoid the crowds that enjoy playing miniature golf under klieg lights at midnight, we headed east from the busier towns of Destin and Fort Walton Beach to the quiet towns of Grayton Beach, Seaside and Seagrove. Located about 60 miles east of Pensacola and 20 miles west of Panama City south of Highway 98, these three beachside towns along Route 30-A maintain a classic old Florida feel.
Visitors who fly into the area come into Pensacola or Panama City, the two municipalities that dominate the Panhandle (we chose Pensacola because it seemed to have more flights). In between these two cities lie romantic and pristine beachfront communities.
Grayton Beach consists of a state recreation area with miles of uninhabited beach and campsites nestled in the dunes. The "downtown" is nothing more than a community of screen-door beach cottages by the white sand beach. The library van stops by every other Wednesday and Friday. Social life revolves around the funky Grayton Corner Cafe, a local favorite where we enjoyed cups of smoky gumbo and a heaping plate of fresh shrimp salad with bottles of ice-cold beer. Grayton is also home to an art gallery known as American's tiniest; we were curious but opted for a walk on the beach instead.
The beach was one of the loveliest we have ever seen. A simple wooden plank leads to the shoreline, passing an inlet that draws egrets and ibises. The white dunes are rolling and gentle, framed by wisps of sea grass instead of high-rise condos and clunky hotels.
East on Route 30-A is the beachside community of Seaside, which consists of ornate new homes, small strips of townhouse condos and a handful of high-rises hard by the emerald sea. The houses are more purposefully quaint than Grayton Beach's: The development tries to look like a New England village, complete with pastel Victorian homes built with cupolas, garrets, towers and widow's walks. Less than a decade old, the new community is self-contained, with shops and restaurants, a tiny post office and signs limiting traffic to residents only. Residents, fortunately, can be travelers who book in advance or full-time summer residents.
In September, we were able to rent a two-bedroom condo in Seaside with a balcony overlooking the ocean for only $50 a night. The appealing cottages and large houses are far more costly, with rates between $500 and $2,200 a week during the season.
Seaside's local watering hole is the always crowded Bud & Alley's, with a menu featuring a mix of Mediterranean, Caribbean and Southern cuisine. We didn't get to nearby Basamati's, but heard only good things about its innovative Asian cuisine. There are lots of places where you can find fresh gulf seafood, specialties like steamed oysters, shrimp and even sauteed alligator. We ate our way through buckets of garlic crabs at Bayou Bill's Crab House on 30-A, three miles east of Seagrove Beach. There is a second location on Highway 98, four miles east of the Sandestin light.
Up the road and around the bend on Route 30-A, we were happy to have stopped at Criolla's, a restaurant that specializes in contemporary versions of classic Creole cooking. We tried bacon-wrapped yellowfin tuna over the grill, Creole curried oysters and pompano with garlic mashed potatoes and ratatouille. The prices were a bit steep for budget travelers - entrees hovered around $22 - but the food was fresh, tasty and expertly prepared, and after a day of hiking and swimming along the misty coast in the absence of sunshine, we deserved a pampered evening.
The Panhandle has plenty of other Florida vacation-type activities, beyond lazing on the beach: golf, tennis, deep-sea fishing, sailing and a greyhound track in Pensacola. We would come back, though, simply to find our own place in the dunes, far from the honky-tonk and the high-rises and the crowds.
by CNB