At the commencement of our companionship 27 years ago (and until as recently as about ten years ago when I retired) we traveled primarily by plane for what limited vacations we then snared. We went for example for condensed visits to places like New York City, Dominican Republic, Mexico, the Caribbean, Italy and Sardegna. It was probably a decade ago when we altered our travel experiences to those limited to travel by car within North America (which for the record I confirm encompasses the east coast of Canada along the North Atlantic Ocean adjacent magnificent places like Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Newfoundland all of which we frequented).

I clearly recall one particular adventure when heading south by car for a winter vacation.  We turned off Interstate 95 at Hardeeville and wound our way eastward (towards the North Atlantic Ocean) along Hwy. 278 to Hilton Head Island.  We had never been there before. Nor shall I forget the sensation that overtook me as we traveled across the coastal marshes and the island bridge.  I was overwhelmed by the colours, the feeling and smell of the air, the surrounding habitations and the overall picture of what to me was an entirely new and singularly refreshing environment.  Apparently these pictorial saturations have lingered deep within my soul unperturbed all these years. Until now that is.

Most recently there has been an unusual twist of events which has rekindled my attention in this barrier island among a nearby collection of them including Tybee Island, St Simons Island, Little St Simons Island, Jekyll Island and Amelia Island stretching all the way to Jacksonville Beach at the entry onto A1A along the eastern Florida periphery.

This morning – almost by chance – I have revitalized these undissolved absorptions. For example, on its face, there were no rentals available when we examined the web site of our traditional and much respected estate agency on Hilton Head Island. I decided nonetheless to call the agency directly for confirmation.  I spoke with Mr. Dean Collette, who, with astounding clarity and promptness arranged a mid-winter one-month stay for us at a property which is no doubt excessive size for what we two require but which I suspect is nonetheless more than tolerably enchanting. The rental contract was I understand spirited by our long-standing estate agent Mrs. Gail Edmonds who with her characteristic adventurousness has prescribed an accommodation which already I anticipate with gusto and more than a degree of curiosity and interest.

1917 South Beach Club, Hilton Head Island, SC

Fortuitously (which increasingly I am thinking is the most pleasurable pathway of life) I have cultivated within the sphere of my vision and dreams an exceedingly harmonious collection of vistas. Once again I am induced to proclaim the delightful novelty of the world before me. I am the first to admit that Hilton Head Island is a signal destination. I will however note that Key Largo (and just about any of the resorts we’ve visited along the Florida Keys) is similarly distinct in that the primary attraction is not so much what’s on land (other than the heat and sunshine) but rather what is in the sea. Snorkeling and boating are in my opinion requisite endeavours on the Florida Keys.  Bicycling not so much. And while I have no objection to sitting in a boat on the open sea for an afternoon, I derive more sustainable satisfaction from cycling on the beach (as I was accustomed to do endlessly on Hilton Head Island).

I record these gravitations only to denote the differences. As for preference, the prescriptions of choice are ultimatley entirely personal.  For my part I am moved by whatever it is that embellishes the sights on Hilton Head Island.