Florida is right by Texas! With only Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama inbetween, a short 14-hour drive. So we decided to break up the journey by stopping half-way. Would you know that half-way to Florida is also Florida, due to a big chunk of it stretching west in a "panhandle" along the coast? It's even in a different timezone than the bit that everyone knows is Florida! So that's where we stopped, in Fort Walton Beach.
Our nearest beach to Houston is Galveston, which while lovely is a little...oily. Out this way the sea is crystal clear with white sand the consistency of fine sugar. Not even the socks I'm wearing with my sandals will keep it out. Hannah and Pete love it, of course, and have been pinging between the beach and the hotel's swimming pools (a little nippy, as is it November).
Keeping up with the theme of traditions, Fort Walton Beach is an old-school holiday town. We took advantage by enjoying the classic holiday activity of mini golf, although this one had massive robotic dinosaurs that roared at you. Pete jumped out of his skin more than once, and perhaps it would have been nicer if his parents didn't laugh so much.
We complete our journey down to Tampa tomorrow, into Florida proper, where traditions will continue: lots of food, lots of drink, and an ugly falling out about politics around the family table at Thanksgiving...
A stop for lunch in Mobile, Alabama, at Pete's Panini's.
Hmm.
Into the hotel, then straight into the (heated) outdoor pool.
You know it's holiday time when you get these, and Pete as an only child will never know the negotiation/violence with siblings over who gets what.
Early morning on the beach.
What my beach holidays all look like.
Almost just like Galveston...
A local, who was trying to snaffle every fish the fishermen on the pier pulled in.
Off to mini golf.
Before it got scary.
Par 4.
Who won? Daddy.
Another local.
A final walk along the beach before hitting the road again tomorrow.
