Moochdocking Pensacola

“Ok” Layne said, “you’ve sold me. We should probably visit Padre Island.” We were alone in the waters off St George Island State Park at eight o’clock in the morning and it was glorious swimming. Rusty was tucked up in the van with the rooftop air conditioning on as pets aren’t allowed on the beach. 

I had suggested that after we spend a few days in New Orleans we might want to check out the beaches of south Texas and there is in fact a dog friendly state park sharing Padre Island with the not dog friendly National Seashore. We don’t plan to be swimming again till we get to southern Mexico’s Guerrero State so I had been pushing for a Texas bathe before we plunge inland and cross the Rio Grande. 

Spending the night at St George Island near Appalachicola seems to have turned the tide and reminded Layne of The pleasures of salt water. As if she needed reminding! We stood outside GANNET2 and turned the kitchen water faucet on ourselves to rinse off. Then we got on US Highway 98 towards Pensacola. The sandy flatlands surrounding the state park: 

It’s a pleasant winding coastal drive along the Panhandle if you aren’t in a hurry and don’t need to take I-10. We wound through Port St Joe and switched to Central Time at Mexico Beach which was in the news a few years ago for the usual hurricane devastation. No hurricane wreckage visible anymore and it’s just another beach town now. 

Therèse lives on a cliff top in Pensacola’s wooded East Hill neighborhood and the bluff puts her fifty feet above sea level, out of reach of any hurricane created waves. This was where Layne and Rusty used to take refuge when an impending hurricane closed the schools in the Keys. The next day they would be gone before official evacuations clogged the roads and I would be home alone making preparations to be locked down at work. Rusty likes hanging out at the house. 

We leave Saturday to spend a few days in New Orleans in an AirBnb but while in Pensacola we had some van chores to do, an oil change and a wheel alignment in particular and Baughn’s Tire did a brilliant job of sorting out a persistent minor alignment problem which no one else ever figured out. He told me the engine cradle was slightly out when they checked it by hand. Brilliant! I knew the slight misalignment was there all these miles but I believe they may have fixed it. $261 is the most I’ve ever paid for an alignment but it was worth every penny. 

It’s been raining every afternoon, huge thunderstorms freaking Rusty out until I dose him with the miracle CBD oil on his gums. To every problem there is a solution. We solved the hunger issue one night with a fish dinner at John Seafood. 

You choose the seafood, the sauce and the level of spiciness and they bring you a ballon to the table. 

Potatoes, boiled eggs, sausage slices, crawfish, king crab, mussels, shrimp and do forth. All steamed in a bag, weird but delicious and we ate a mound of it. 

Deliciously messy with bibs, endless paper towels and even latex gloves if you want them. 

Pensacola has dozens of unusual authentic delicious and unexpected ethnic food choices. This town is a foodie’s unexpected paradise. We try to take advantage every visit. Look up “Pensacola Nassau grits” if you like to surprised by a simple diner. 

I’m reading several novels at once to pass the time while we are relaxing off the travel route. This stop has been a great opportunity to do a lot of a very little as we wait for summer’s heat to dissipate a bit and for dry season in Central America to assert itself. You can do worse than hang a few days in Pensacola.