Sometimes I find myself looking through old photographs and feeling the need to fly the nest. By sometimes, I mean very frequently. I love nothing more than to feel a sense of movement. A pushing forward taking me to new and exciting things. Landscapes never seen before and alleys never explored. I pretend I'm the first person to discover the little tid bits of character I find in places. In October, I went with Russy (my boyfriend that I sometimes make up nick names for) and friends and members of his band to Gainesville, Florida for Fest. The funny thing is that we drove for about a total of 35 hours to be in Florida for around 8. Totally worth it.
After you get home from a trip like that, it almost seems like you never went. Long delirious hours in a car listening to bad radio stations and eating at the only places open which include two of my favs, IHOP and Micky Dees. Needless to say, it was a blur. However, a good story and interesting experience.
Since we drove for so long to get there, we decided to find a cheap hotel that we could rent for a few hours and nap. As you may be thinking, a hotel that you can stay in for only a few hours is bound to be a beaut. As was the one we stayed in. We pulled in around 7:30 in the morning and we couldn't find anyone to check in with. So I took my camera and wondered around. Below is what a found. A gold mind of color and age. Timeless scenes you only see in a movie about drug busts and dirty sex in hotels. Seriously. The room had a carpet that looked like someone had just got done hosing off, the swimming pool had a jungle under the surface (which I later found out previously had fish), cigarette burns, and fish bones. I was lucky enough to stumble upon the owner while I was discovering all of these gems, and he was the biggest one of all. Such an interesting man. Picture a 45-55 year old surf guy that has had his deal of sweet tans and now chills at his hotel in a rugby shirt and plaid shorts. He was incredible. He told me all about the fish that he put in the swimming pool and how he accidentally killed them with chlorine pellets. The bones were at our feet to prove it. He told me about how he had gotten a job with a photographer in the mid west in the 60s that was from National Geographic or something that tried to put the moves on him. And he told me about one of his wives that was a photographer and took beautiful images of horses. He was a stand up guy with good stories.
The whole Fest part of Fest didn't last too long for us. We had to drive back because of the siren of school work. Nothing new there. Luckily we got the next few days off as this was the same days as Sandy decided to show up. I got a hurricane for my Birthday. However, we didn't get home without a stop at one of my now favorite places on the east coast, South of the Border. One day I'll return. One day...