On Sunday, we packed up and drove about an hour to our
campsite at an undisclosed location in Port St. Joe. (Undisclosed because it’s a secret!)
Between Carrabelle and Appalachicola, we crossed a very long
bridge. Reminds me of Seven Mile Bridge
in the Florida keys, but it wasn’t quite that long.
While crossing the bridge, we saw a helicopter hovering above and Chuck could see a guy hanging out the side of it. We thought they were probably working on the electric lines running parallel to the road. I wish I could have gotten a close up picture so you could see it better.
We drove through Appalachicola.
Appalachicola is a quaint little harbor town where some of the best oysters in the world are harvested out of Appalachicola Bay. We planned to make it a point to eat some of those oysters this week.
Chuck got the motorhome backed into the site and we were all set up within a couple of hours. It took us a little longer this time because we wanted to get the motorhome set just right for the prettiest view of the beach and the closest connection to the sewer. Pretty stinky, huh?
The site was just as beautiful as we had remembered it. Here's a view from our window:
All there was between us and the beach was a small sand dune with a walkway over it:
This a view of our site from the beach:
We have gone to Port St. Joe on vacation for years and years. The first time I went was with my parents in our pop-up camper (with no air conditioning) back in the 70's. Chuck started going with us after we met in high school and we have gone there off and on for the past 40 years. Back then there was nothing on the beach except a couple of houses and the campground. Now the beach has houses all up and down it.
But still there are not many people. You may not see 10 or 15 people all day and this is on a five-
mile stretch of beach.
The water is not as clear as around Panama City and the sand is not as white. But the quietness and beauty of the beach are wonderful.
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