As I continue my year of travel, I have been experimenting with different ways of immersing myself in the culture of a place. Realizing that ‘local’ is the key to the door that opens up authentic experiences I have sought out encounters with locals and the places they frequent. I’ve tried, for the most part, to avoid tourist activities and instead attempted to settle into a place, hoping to stumble into the groove and pace of a destination as a native, allowing my eyes to see a community both as if I had made it my home and as if I had just arrived. It’s a tough proposition to be sure, some locations resist intimacy, they only show their secrets to determined travelers, those willing to go to the dark places, the less trampled corners, the edges of safety or comfort. Also, immersion in place can take time. One’s own attitude, openness to the unexpected and serendipitous, plays a large role in experiencing the true complicated nature of a locale.
I have always wanted to spend time in the oldest city in the U.S., St. Augustine on the east coast of Northern Florida. In previous travels, I had been told by numerous folks I met on the road that it was a fascinating place; Spanish architecture, empty windswept beaches, narrow bricked alleys and haunted places. Cuisine influenced both by its proximity to the Deep South and its Spanish heritage. A place brimming with history and an entire neighborhood of significant importance to the civil rights movement. I had chosen to travel to this destination with my nephew, someone I knew would be receptive to an open meander, a style of travel that meant no pre-plans, no walking tours, no trolley rides. Just an opening of the mind and heart each day, a sort of ‘let’s see where the day takes us’ mentality. I wanted to see how St. Augustine would present itself without a formal itinerary. Would she tell us her secrets? Would she allow us in?
As many of you have guessed by now as readers of my blog, I prefer Airbnb when I land in a new place. A well-chosen Airbnb gets me off on the right foot, neatly removes that first obstacle of being a tourist. I want to stay in a neighborhood, among neighbors. It affords an immediate entry into local living if one is embedded with others; being a witness to the backyard barbecues, the late night whisperings on decks and patios, the good mornings of the young mother walking her child to school, the older gentleman tending his garden. As an adult, its the ultimate free form play of pretending, slipping into another life for a brief period of time.
I was thrilled by the place I found at the edge of the historic neighborhood called Lincolnville, ground zero for a robust civil rights movement in the 1960’s and an atmospheric, densely packed jumble of homes and churches. Our accommodations were conjured from an old recycling plant, situated on an empty plot of land adjacent to the Baptist church(we shared the parking lot), and faced a wide expanse of marshland teeming with shorebirds feeding on the flats. From the exterior, the place looked dubious, an old metal shed streaked with shades of rust. Inside, it was spacious; high ceilings, concrete floors with cozy alcoves delineated by colorful carpets and bookshelves filled with the classics. The place was infused by light emanating from one entire wall of sliding glass doors framing the marsh grasses and the egrets, ibis and herons that perched there. This was to be our home for the next five days and we would return in the early evening daily to watch the sunset over the marsh and dance on the deck as the sun sank into the horizon, bathing our bodies in a hazy glow.
A visit to St. Augustine is a great time to try out the less is more approach to travel. Of course, if you are itching to be the tourist, there are some efficient and fun ways to get a good feel for the city as well as going deep depending on your level of interest; history, haunted places, architecture. The trolley, walking tours that specialize in history and architecture abound, as well as the usual haunted tours offered in the dark of night offer one way to begin. I would encourage a visitor to try something a bit different.
A sure-fire way to introduce yourself to a place is to simply walk. We spent our first few days getting lost, wandering down dead-end streets and narrow back alleys, making surprising discoveries. It’s true that to find small treasures and uncover the beating heart of a town, walking affords the best opportunity to do that. Peeking into yards and behind gates, we found tinkling fountains and mosaic sculptures, old gravestones and verdant gardens. We wandered the pedestrian-only walkways in the center of the city and marveled at the Spanish-style architecture of the magnificent Flagler College. My immediate observation was that St. Augustine did not feel like Florida. It was the drawl of the Southern accents as well as the many culinary specialties(grits & black-eyed peas) that gave me a clear indication that I was in the Deep South. St. Augustine is less then 90 minutes from the Georgia State line so that makes perfect sense, but the realization still surprised and delighted me. The downtown area is a touristed spot to be sure. There are plentiful tchotchke shops and the ubiquitous trolleys filled with bored looking kids and their tired parents rounding the corners. Yet a walk in this area is a fascinating exploration of a complex cultural history.
The history of St. Augustine (nicknamed ‘Ancient City”) is long and culturally varied, as can be seen in the many distinctive buildings, streets, and people who live there. It has been home to a wide range of cultures, from Native Americans to Spanish and French settlers,British soldier, pirates, tycoons and millionaires. The Spanish Empire is represented in the city’s many historical sites, the coquina fortress, the Castillo de San Marcos and the historic city gates. Known as the oldest city in the US, it is more accurately the oldest continuously occupied settlement of European descent, founded in 1565 by Spanish admiral Pedro Menedez de Aviles. (This was 55 years before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock).
The renaissance of the city began in earnest in the 1800’s with the arrival of Henry Flagler, a railroad magnate responsible for constructing many of the most impressive structures downtown. The site of the magnificent Ponce de Leon Hotel is now Flagler College, a small liberal arts institution founded in 1968. An oasis for the wealthy, Flagler remade St. Augustine into a winter resort for the northern elite.
Another interesting part of the city’s history is its pivotal involvement in the civil rights movement. The 60’s saw difficult times for African Americans here. Martin Luther King and other civil rights activists came to the city in 1964 in support of an ongoing local campaign to end racial segregation. Many historians believe the civil activism that occurred here in the Spring of 1964 led directly to the passage of the Civil Rights Act.
A little-known fact about St. Augustine is that it was the place where slavery began and ended. The Spanish brought the first slaves to America in 1565. Fort Mose (est 1738) was the first free black settlement in the U.S. Inhabited by former slaves, they arrived from the north through the original Underground Railroad. To gain their freedom, they had to swear allegiance to the King of England. Later, the city was under Union control during the civil war and as a result was one of the few places where President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation actually freed slaves. After the war, many blacks settled in Lincolnville.
Lincolnville was made for meandering. It is a historically black neighborhood in St. Augustine. Freed slaves established the community in 1866 on the west bank of the Maria Sanchez Creek. The enclave was known as Africa, or Little Africa, until the city laid out the community’s streets in 1878 and gave it its most recent moniker. Residents of the district formed the Cuban Giants, the country’s first all-Black professional baseball team. The community also played a significant role in the Civil Rights movement during the 1960s. Black artisans designed and constructed many of the structures in the area. Added to the National Historic Register of Historic Places in 1991, the 50-block neighborhood once contained more than 540 historic buildings. This number has diminished in recent years due to development and demolition. The neighborhood is home to St. Augustine’s largest concentration of Victorian era buildings. The neighborhood also has several Craftsman, Mediterranean Revival and Folk Victorian style houses. It’s an intriguing place to explore.
My favorite thing to do was amble up and down the narrow roads of Lincolnville at twilight. The homes were built in the geographical layout popular at the time, wedged tightly together and set close to the curb. Today, there are many abandoned homes, boarded over, with vines and trees growing through roofs and broken windows. It is a vibrant place despite the decrepitude, many old-timers still reside here and its unfortunately apparent that gentrification has begun, though the old homes are being modestly renovated, not torn down and replaced with palatial and incongruent eyesores. Walking at night here, I sensed an old energy, I imagined the banter of camaraderie among neighbors and the powerful voices of dissent. Turns out the Baptist Church right next to our Airbnb hosted Martin Luther King in the 60’s, a historical marker out front marks the momentous occasion. It feels like progress is trying to erase the past in many historical places in our country, but here, there is a palpable sense of timelessness. The old churches, the battered homes seem rooted in place. The cacophony of wild greenery might obscure a window here, a weathered gate there, but the past is alive in the spirituals drifting out of the Baptist church windows, in the green metal historical markers scattered throughout the city,
Besides walking the town and absorbing the history, I would recommend renting bikes for your stay. we chose to ditch the car for the remainder of our days and used our cruisers to explore the gorgeous beaches. St. Augustine is adjacent to Anastasia Island, a 14 mile long barrier island land separated from the town by the Matanzas River, part of the Intracoastal Waterway. The island is home to many small communities, several Public beaches, Fort Matanzas National Monument(c.1742 a Spanish colonial fort), the St. Augustine lighthouse and the campy but worthwhile Alligator Farm. We rode our bikes over the Bridge of Lions and explored the island, our destination being the crown jewel of North Florida beaches at Anastasia State Park. Much less crowded then the public beaches, (it’s still only $2 by bike), there are miles of hiking trails and a long ribbon of boardwalk that curves over undulating dune grass to a virtually empty expanse of silky fine ivory sand backed by acres of hilly dunes. At low tide, one can ride a bike without seeing another soul for miles. The Atlantic beaches are also fantastic for shelling, sharks teeth are a local treasure found in ample supply.
St. Augustine is a very special place. There is something here for everyone, whether a history buff or a beach bum. It’s one of those places that gets under your skin if you allow enough time to soak in its unique ambiance.
Stay tuned for Part II, focused on some of the great local restaurants and bars we discovered in our wanderings.
