Monday, March 16, 2015

Getting Lost In Time at Honest John's

Home sweet home... for a few days...

Better than a poop station...

I had to change camping spots and since my poop tank had 2 weeks of poop in it (oh the joys of camping!) I headed for the long line at the poop out pump away stinky station.

Lots of bored campers patiently waiting in line for their turn to poop out their campers before journeying home after a weekend of relaxation.

I surveyed the slow moving line and thought, hmmm, why wait? The crowd would thin out by mid afternoon. So I jumped out of line, drove across the grass, cut over to another camp road then headed for A1A and a beach. The bewildered campers I left behind were more or less thrilled because they could pump their poop even sooner with my hasty departure.

Incredibly the first beach I came to had a big parking spot where my 28 foot mini home could fit nicely. What luck! Angels watching out for me when I least expect it. We walked to the beach to commune with the sea.

After the beach, I made a turn off thinking I thought would find another park (wrong turn) but while getting lost, I found something else instead.

Well, um sort of. I took a turn down a paved road that ran around a sharp blind curve then turned into a one lane dirt road with fences on either side and no room to pass, much less anywhere to turn around.

My friend was impressed with my fearlessness. Frankly, I was praying I would eventually find somewhere (paradise!) to visit or turn around or the road would magically widen at some point. You never know, could be a rainbow and a pot of gold too.

So... hang a left at the fork..

Keep a careful eye out for pedestrians.

Darn, no parking for motorhomes and the car park was *ahem* rather small.

Spanish moss dripping everywhere, gently brushing the roof of my RV as I drove under their magical canopy.

The gate keeper was very friendly, talkative and  informative.

Security gave me a once over before being allowed to pass.

Finally we arrived at Honest John's somewhere around the 19th century. Talk about time travel...

The hostess was dressed up in her Sunday best to greet us.

Sometimes if you don't know where you're going you might just end up somewhere else.

Life is goof.


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Life is goof!