Florida

BOCA RATON
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Boca Raton, Florida
	
	We arrived back in Jacksonville at about 11:00 am Tuesday morning, flat out exhausted, having slept maybe a few hours on our red eye flight, following a long (albeit very fun) weekend.   The plan was to drive to St. Augustine, Florida (approximately one hour South of Jackonville), have lunch there, walk around for a few hours, and then drive the 5 hours to Boca Raton, Florida to visit Jordon and Kristen Litten.  

	Like all good plans, however, there were several flaws with this one.  For starters, we were starving, as well as exhausted, when we got off the plane.  So, we stopped at the Waffle House, and had pretty much everything on the menu, including two very large waffles.  It was really good (in that greasy-fatty-syrupy-buttery-carb-packed-not very healthy-kind-of-way) and is a must stop when traveling through the South.   Then, rather than walk around St. Augustine, which is one of Ruthie’s favorite towns in the U.S. – it is the oldest city in the country; Ponce de Leon landed on its shores in 1513 thinking he discovered the Fountain of Youth there – we drove right to Anastasa State Park located just outside of St. Augustine, and took a very sandy, but very necessary nap on the beach.  When it started to rain on us (we are either cursed or blessed with the ability to summon rain in even the sunniest of places - did we mention it rained almost the entire weekend we were in Portland, Oregon for Dave and Michelle’s wedding?), we grudgingly left the beach and headed south to Boca, having taken not one picture in St. Augustine.  

	We arrived in Boca at about 6:00 p.m., and since Jordon and Kristen were at a work dinner, made ourselves at home in their very cozy place, which incidentally has an amazing view of the ocean just across the street, and just relaxed until they got home.  We slept until 3:00 pm the next day, rolled out of bed, and hit Boston’s, a beach front restaurant in Del Rey Beach (just North of Boca) for some food and drinks.  Later that night, we ate at some local Boca restaurant/bar, and had some tequila shots at yet another.  Mike Newhouse, who apparently didn’t get all his lounge singing out of his system at Dave Aman’s wedding, was invited on stage by Matt, the guitarist, to sing a moving rendition of “She Talks to Angels” by the Black Crowes.  The next day we slept late (surprise) and then headed south for about an hour to South Beach in Miami.
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Boca Raton: Florida
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