Greetings from Gainesville, Part 2

A career blip landed me in North Central Florida a couple of years ago. Except for vague notions of Miami, Disneyworld,  and alligators--oh, and I knew that manatees hung out there in the winter--I had no real knowledge of the state.  If pressed, I would have confessed to the stereotype that it was mainly a place where old people went when they didn't want to shovel snow anymore. 

All tropical, all the time, right?  Not really--I would be shocked in about five months when a frost warning was announced. Turns out, there are frost lines, subtropical lines, and hanging moss lines that transverse this skinny state.  I'm in the hanging moss zone. It's everywhere, and huge clumps of the hairy stuff fall off trees all the time.  You just step over it. All. The. Time.

Certainly, the heat and humidity were relentless when I arrived. Tropical enough, but without the exotic birds. People kept apologizing to me about the weather, as if they were somehow the cause of my discomfort.  "I am SO sorry! Just wait another month, it will get better. Really. Again, I'm sorry!"  It rained every single day, usually about the time I was leaving work. A straight-down-torrential-cloud-burst that would last less than an hour. When it ended, the sun would be back out, and steam would rise from the pavement. These were not the refreshing summer rains of the Midwest. No, these showers only added more moisture to air. How is that even possible, I wondered.

While waiting for "another month," I set out to learn about my new surroundings.  I decided to treat the entire relocation as if I were a foreign exchange student:  This won't last forever, so get out there and discover while you can. Someday, you'll be gone, and don't want to regret missing an opportunity.  With that mindset, I asked my new co-workers (the only people I knew) what I should see:

• St. Augustine (90 minutes away) is the oldest city in the United States.
• Cedar Key (60 minutes away) has the best clam chowder in the world.
• Orlando (2 hours away) if you have kids.  Otherwise, avoid it at all costs.

There you go, steadfast readers.  Anyplace else, I asked again?  No, not right off the tops of their heads.  Well...Payne's Prairie is nice, but you have to watch out for the snakes and alligators.  Are you kidding me??

What about Gainesville?  You won't be surprised to hear that nearly everything revolves around the University of Florida.  What might be surprising is how little time it takes to cover those attractions:

• The Bat House.  Okay, this is cool the first couple of times. UF has two bat houses on campus. You spray on a can of bug repellent and go at dusk. Thousands and thousands and thousands of bats all fly out at the same time, some of them really close.  You can even hear their little squeaks. It lasts about 15 minutes.
• The Florida Museum of Natural History and The Butterfly Forest. A couple of hours, tops.  I actually enjoy small museums; they aren't exhausting and you don't feel guilty for not having looked at everything.  This museum focuses on, duh, Florida. Native tribes, Spanish settlers, and prehistoric stuff. A photo-op in a dugout canoe. Nice volunteers, and it's free!  The Butterfly Forest is not free, but if you haven't been to one, this might do the trick.  I've experienced the one in Seattle, so I took a pass.
• Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, aka "The Swamp."  Some would call this the Heart of UF. You can walk in anytime.  Except for going onto the field (only UF football players and Graduation day photos with cap & gown are allowed) you are free to wander, or go up and down the stands.  Some folks actually work out by "doing stadiums" as they wreck their knees, running up and down the stairs. Another photo-op by the statues of UF Heisman Trophy winners.  A shot with your arm around Tim Tebow, anyone?
• Lake Alice.  Alligator sighting guaranteed. Snapping turtles everywhere. They even have signs posted to warn against leaving babies and small dogs alone near the shore. Another popular spot for photos, both graduation and wedding.

Then there is the Devil's Millhopper--a giant sinkhole that has a zillion wooden steps descending waaaaaaaay into the depths of the sinkhole. The temperature drops as you hike down.  Two kinds of people visit here: 1. Families, couples, and tourists, because it is pretty nifty. You can hear the constant water flow. Sinkholes are how people used to gather their drinking and household water. 2. And people who are training for runs, hikes, or climbs. They put on their backpacks and walk up/down/up/down/up/down/up/down/up. Whew.

If you look on TripAdvisor, Gainesville has 19 attractions listed. Including something called "Skate Station FunWorks" at spot number 18. Only one reviewer, who gave it one TripAdvisor circle.  Number 19 is listed, but no one has apparently visited the Wild Life Conservation Farm; there's not a single remark. The term "attraction" has a broad definition, when it comes to Gainesville.

So, that's how I passed my first month in Gainesville as I waited for the weather that everyone assured me would be "the reason people moved here."  I could hardly wait.

Comments

[Amy Johnsen]

Girl, I have not had any burning desire to move to Gainesville, mostly because of where it is located in Florida in comparison to the other many cities and towns running up the coast and gulfside, not to mention the Keys. I'm sure Gainesville has many fine qualities to offer, some of which you touched upon. It's just not my area of Florida! My prayer for you is that you are offered an even more fabulous job in a more "you" part of Florida sometime in the future, where you can escape to and feel the ocean breeze and move to the lazy sway of the palm trees.........freedom from being landlocked. Until then, you must carry on,and I know you will. Will you come see me if/when I move to the Keys?