St. Augustine

Across the Bridge of Lions, Anastasia Island has a long run of wide, flat, pale sand. It starts with the dunes and lagoon of Anastasia State Park at the north end, carries on through St. Augustine Beach and continues south to quieter Crescent Beach. North of the inlet, over a separate bridge, Vilano Beach is a smaller, more local stretch. From the historic centre most of this is a ten to fifteen minute drive. The Atlantic here is warm from late spring to autumn, reaching about 28°C in high summer, with easy surf and gently shelving water that suits most swimmers.

Winter is different. The water drops to around 15°C and the beach becomes a place to walk rather than swim. The sea is usually greenish and churned rather than clear. Most visitors split their days between the old town and the sand, which works well because the two sit so close together.

Eating here is mostly seafood. Local shrimp, fried fish and oysters are served in casual waterfront places on the river and the marsh creeks. The town's distinctive flavour comes from its Minorcan settlers: the small, fiery datil pepper turns up in hot sauces, in a spicy tomato-based clam chowder and in pilau. A handful of chef-driven restaurants and wine bars around the old town and the San Marco area give an evening more to it.

It is a small town's food scene all the same. The restaurants along St. George Street lean heavily on passing tourists, and for range and depth you would need to go to Jacksonville.

St. Augustine was founded by the Spanish in 1565 and has the oldest continuously inhabited European-founded townscape in the United States. The coquina-stone Castillo de San Marcos dominates the bayfront, a star fort that is the finest colonial military building in the country. Behind it, narrow lanes of balconied houses, walled gardens and the old city gate make up the Spanish quarter. Some of these buildings are originals and many are careful reconstructions.

The second layer is Gilded Age. Henry Flagler's Ponce de Leon Hotel, now Flagler College, is a riot of Spanish Renaissance revival with Tiffany glass. The former Alcazar Hotel opposite houses the Lightner Museum. Add the Cathedral Basilica, the striped lighthouse on Anastasia Island and Fort Matanzas to the south, and two or three days covers it well.

Evenings centre on a cluster of pubs, taverns and cocktail bars in the old town, around St. George Street, Hypolita Street and the bayfront, many with courtyards and patios for drinking outside. Weekends bring a lively, slightly boozy crowd of visitors, and Flagler College students add some energy in term time. There is a small beach-bar scene on Anastasia Island too. Clubs barely exist, though, and most places wind down well before the small hours. It suits a relaxed drink after dinner more than a big night out.

The landscape is low and watery: tidal salt marsh, barrier-island dunes, maritime hammock forest and the wide Matanzas River behind the coast. Anastasia State Park has dune trails and calm lagoon water for paddleboarding. The Guana Tolomato Matanzas reserve to the north offers long marsh walks and birding. Kayak trips through the creeks often meet dolphins, herons and ospreys, and the coastal road south is good for cycling.

There are no hills at all. Midsummer heat, humidity and afternoon storms push outdoor plans to early morning, and late autumn to spring is the most comfortable time to be out.

Almost every outing needs a car. Jacksonville, about forty-five minutes north, has museums, a riverfront and the Cummer gardens. Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island, about an hour and a half away, is a pretty Victorian port town with a historic fort nearby. Southward, Daytona Beach's speedway and boardwalk are about an hour off. Kennedy Space Center and the Orlando theme parks are each roughly two hours away, long but popular days out. Inland, old Florida river towns such as Palatka are quieter options. It is a serviceable list rather than a rich one.

Children tend to like it here. The St. Augustine Alligator Farm, running since 1893, has crocodilians of every species, a zipline course and rookeries of wading birds. At the Castillo de San Marcos, cannon-firing demonstrations and ramparts to climb make history easy to sell. Pirate and colonial-themed museums, trolley rides, the lighthouse climb and the gentle summer surf of the island beaches fill the rest of the days.

The historic centre is compact and safe, and family-style restaurants are everywhere. Summer heat and crowded weekend pavements are the main strain. For roller coasters, families drive the two hours to Orlando.

The historic district is small, flat and pleasant to walk. The fort, St. George Street, Flagler College and the bayfront are all minutes apart, and hop-on sightseeing trolleys loop past the main sights. Beyond that, the town is built for cars. Local buses are sparse and of little use to a visitor. The beaches, the lighthouse and anything further afield are reached by driving, cycling or taxi. Old-town parking is tight on busy days, so most visitors park once and walk.

St. George Street is the shopping spine. Its fudge, hot-sauce, T-shirt and pirate-souvenir shops are fun to browse but rarely more. Aviles Street and the lanes around it have a more interesting mix of art galleries, antique dealers and small craft shops. Beyond the old town, a large outlet mall by the interstate covers mainstream brands. Nobody comes here for fashion, but local datil-pepper sauces and the galleries make for decent souvenirs.

It is not a cheap place to stay. The historic inns and B&Bs and the hotels within walking distance of the old town are in high demand, and weekend and peak-season rates climb steeply. Eating out and attractions carry normal American tourist-town prices, with tipping on top. Savings come from staying in chain motels by the highway or on the island, visiting midweek outside the spring and summer peaks, and making the most of the free pleasures: walking the old streets and the public beaches.

The St. Augustine Amphitheatre, an open-air venue set in the woods on Anastasia Island, is the town's real stage. It hosts touring rock, country and folk acts through much of the year, and smaller shows run in a sister venue nearby. In the old town, acoustic sets and cover bands play nightly on bar patios. There is also a community theatre and a modest classical series. Anyone after opera, a full orchestral season or serious theatre has to go to Jacksonville.

There is no bathing tradition here, and spa options are limited to treatment rooms in the larger hotels and a few day spas in town. What relaxation there is comes from the pace. Old-town B&Bs have quiet verandas and courtyard gardens, and an evening stroll along the bayfront seawall is easy and unhurried. The atmosphere is gentle rather than restorative, and it is noticeably calmer midweek and away from the busy long weekends.