Hi Again -

Most visitors come to Amelia Island, a tiny stretch of land just off the tip of Florida, for the beautiful beaches, award-winning golf and tennis, and luxurious resorts. Not me. I like the small seaport village of Fernandina Beach - it's so amble-worthy -- with a sense of Victorian splendor untouched by t-shirt shops.

Also absent is the caterwaul of car horns. They're just not there. The downside is that drivers stop their cars in the middle of the street to chat with a friend. On the other hand, no one seems to care.

A town that has not yet heard of Benetton's, the island's modern history dates back to 1562, when it was officially discovered by the French. Timucuan Indians, on the other hand, had been there since 2500 B.C. Somehow that always gets lost in "recorded" history. Amelia progressed as far as the turn-of-the-century and stayed there. Why not, it was at its peak of prominence and prosperity. Go on -- close your eyes and you can still hear the sound of trolleys casually clunking along cobblestone streets.

But that was then and now is still then. The Victorian flavor permeates both the upper and lower crusts of the island. Fifty blocks of green-canopied streets winding around the island's historic downtown area house ever-gracious 19th-century Victorian "cottages" (A/K/A mansions).

Most of the homes, ablaze in multiple shades of tans and turquoise and mints and mauves, sport some strange appendage on the roof alternately identified as a turret, cupola, gazebo, or belvedere. You'd love the funky architecture. Bay windows are surrounded by individualized brackets and barge boards that vary in size, detail and decor. Don't even think about asking what a barge board is.

Just strolling down Centre Street reinforces the connection with yesteryear. A Norman Rockwell painting of a town, Fernandina is a living community fused to its prosperous past. Horse-drawn carriages, outdoor cafes and quaint shops decked out in resplendent Victorian finery reflect an earlier easier era. I know you'd have difficulty deciding which you'd want to do first. Just the presence of individualized shops is a welcome antidote to the sameness of suburban malls, a redundancy I bemoan every time I'm in one.

One-of-a-kind shops housed in one-of-a-kind dwellings. You know I'm not much of a shopper, but I was in it for the names. Pineapple Patch, Ship's Lantern, Smugglers Cove, Tilted, Last Flight Out and my favorite, The Unusual Shop, a fun and funky discovery more than deserving of a truth-in-advertising award.

And then there's the Palace Saloon, reason enough itself to visit the island. Operating since 1903, it is the oldest saloon in Florida with much of the interior dating back to 1878, when the building was first constructed.Although its choice of libations may have changed from Red Cross Rye and Turkey Mountain Corn Whiskey to Miller Light and Sex on the Beach, little else has. The former watering hole to Carnegies, Rockefellers, du Ponts and Morgans as well as the multitudes of shrimpers and seamen who dominated the port city is now the tavern of choice for tourists, locals and the multitudes of shrimpers and seamen who still frequent the harbor.

A walk by the water at sunset captures the essence the Amelia Island. The tall masts of the shrimp boats are lined up, silhouetted against the sinking sun. One boat, apparently ever optimistic that the South may rise again, flies a Confederate flag overhead, further testimony that the island remains unwilling to give up its past. For more information, visit AmeliaIsland.org.

Until my next destination –

Fyllis