Apalachicola has always been a place where men go down to the sea..or at least down to the great bay next door…there to harvest nature’s bounty.
They called it the Oyster Capital Of The World. Until the oysters played out and they had to, um, repurpose the gear that had served so long and so ably.
But a funny thing happened to this ancient port town perched on the edge of a great estuary.
Even as the oysters were vanishing the tourists began to appear, as though sent by providence to fill in the void.
Relics of the old economic order can still be seen everywhere. But of late the town’s sun bleached and salt washed buildings have taken on a more colorful – dare I suggest quirky? – character.
Some might even call it downright outlandish.
As though parts of Apalachicola have been recast in…
…oh, I dunno…call it 19th century bordello kitsch.
If you are looking for high art in low places you have come to the right place.
Just walk down any street, or walk through any door, and something is going to catch your fancy.
Because we know that birds of all manner of feather flock together in Apalachicola.
And, listen, if you can’t find a place to eat or drink that suits your fancy, there’s something wrong with you.
If you are searching out the legends of the seven seas, you have arrived.
Or maybe you simply lust after the latest in haut couture.
I’m just gonna say this. They take their drinking seriously here.
Hey, every town needs a decent junk shop. Got you covered.
I got nothin’. Honestly!
Truth is, they’ve got everything you need in Apalachicola. And nothing that you don’t.
And then there is this. When the lights go down and the tourists go to bed.
And the ghost tour folks slip off into the night….
…Apalachicola once again assumes the quiet dignity of its earlier, more innocent times. And one can imagine that the ancient mariners are with us still.
Life is a bicycle. And the riding is sublime in Apalachicola.