Nature meets quirkiness
Fort Myers draws visitors with respect for nature, unusual attractions, wildlife and beaches
FORT MYERS-SANIBEL ISLAND— The gator seemed bored, but luckily not hungry. The star attraction at the J.N. “Ding” Darling Nature Wildlife Refuge on Florida’s Sanibel Island only made an appearance towards the end of a tour. Guide Heather Scott stopped the tram, fairly bubbling over with excitement.
“Oh look, we’ve got a good-sized American alligator off to the left!”
In truth, she was equally enthusiastic about all the birds she had pointed out earlier, but it was hard to beat the sight of a top predator sunning itself on a grassy shore.
A couple of other visitors hopped out of their car just ahead for a closer shot.
Heather thoughtfully advised that gators, even those that appear languid, can move surprisingly fast, capable of leaping the equivalent of their body length in pursuit of prey — or selfie shooters.
“Folks, give them the benefit of the doubt. Always assume they’re in a grumpy mood,” she said with a knowing giggle.
Her group stayed on the tram to take pictures.
This southwest Florida region prides itself on its respect for nature. People are encouraged to look at dolphins, but not swim with them, to pick up shells from the beach, but leave untouched the ones that still have living creatures inside.
Fort Myers likes to draw a contrast with the slickness and style of Miami on the other side of the peninsula.
The mainland beaches are decidedly middle class, with bars and souvenir shops lining the lengthy stretches of soft white sand.
The nearby islands of Sanibel and Captiva, joined to the mainland by a causeway, are where the rich come to sun themselves.
Multi-million-dollar properties border the main road, but there are also public beaches open to anyone.
Captiva’s South Seas Island Resort, where we stayed for two nights, is a family-oriented property where you can get a regular hotel room — or if your pockets are deep enough, rent a house for $4,000 (U.S.) per night. Floridian quirkiness abounds. On the tiny island of Cabbage Key, every square centimetre of its restaurant’s walls and ceilings is covered with U.S. dollar bills, a tradition that started with fishermen who would tape up cash so they could be assured of having enough to buy a beer on their next visit. Now, with buck-abeer a historical artifact, it remains the thing to do for visitors. You can see the notes posted by John F. Kennedy Jr. and former U.S. president Jimmy Carter.
At the Bubble Room restaurant, it seems they have cleared out the inventory of every movie memorabilia shop between Key West and Seattle, wallpapering the place with black- and-white photos of motion-picture stars both famous and forgotten.
The cuisine is a tribute to all-American excess. The restaurant does not serve plain bread, but rather “bubble bread,” with its top-secret recipe that appeared to be a toasted blend of cheese and mayonnaise.
Diners can order a heart-stopping one-kilogram hunk of prime rib, while still expected to leave room for giant slabs of dessert, including the inevitable and delectable key lime pie, a staple on menus throughout the area.
This part of Florida has been a magnet for prominent Americans for more than a century. Former president Teddy Roosevelt used to visit, and famed aviator Charles Lind- bergh would land his plane on the beach.
Few have left more of a mark than Thomas Edison. The prolific inventor maintained a winter home in Fort Myers, where he would spend anywhere from a week to several months every year. His house is now preserved as a museum, complete with a workshop. His friend Henry Ford’s house next door is part of the complex.
Edison being Edison, he could not stop inventing things even when on vacation.
In Florida, he turned his fertile mind to gardening and the pursuit of a domestic source of rubber to replace the uncertain natural supplies from overseas.
To that end, his friend Harvey Firestone presented him with a banyan tree in the 1920s. It was four feet tall. The sapling has now grown into a mini forest of its own. The museum has had to prune it to protect the historic buildings, but it is being allowed to spread in the opposite direction, where it will soon supplant the parking lot — a Fort Myers visitor that has put down deeper roots than most. Sean Mallen is a Toronto writer. His trip was sponsored by the Lee County Visitor and Convention Bureau, which did not review or approve this story.