It’s June and the sun lazily sets on the Golden Isles. Its warm rays filter through withered oak branches and Spanish moss, setting palm leaves and marsh water ablaze with tangerine. A handful of bats begin to swoop over the lagoon that abuts the rental, which has become our temporary residence, and the frogs start their evening hymns. I welcome their song. I’ve retreated to the water's edge to escape the sounds of excited chatter and the announcers over the television. The Braves are down in the bottom of the 8th. I sit pleasantly, looking out across this small swamp, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice an agile figure gliding through the water. It’s the alligator that lives here, who has delighted the children and become my evening companion. She’s not very big but she is beautiful nevertheless. Every evening as people chat by the pool, or someone smokes a cigar, she lazily drifts to the retaining wall separating the high ground from my dangling bare feet and the bog. Her knowing eyes observe me, undoubtedly hoping I’ll toss her a treat.
“I have nothing for you,” I say softly.
She’s unphased. She’s become used to tourists sharing their greasy food with her, no doubt unsuitable for a wild alligator’s digestive system. I think about the odd intersection of nature and commercialism in this place. Flora and fauna endure despite the encroachment of people and shops that sell shitty puka shell necklaces and gaudy souvenir tees. She continues to watch me, never blinking, not even when a brave turtle snatches a minnow near her starboard side.
When the sun finally disappears from view, hues of dusty blue and plum wash over the quiet body of water. Time for me to return to the house.
“Goodnight friend,” I whisper.
I hope in vain that she’ll leave and find a wilder place, for her sake. I want to make her understand that not all visitors are friends and that she should stay as far away from us (humans) as possible. Her intelligent reptillian eyes follow me as I stand and take my leave.
I smile sadly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A short 35-minute drive from St. Simon Island is Jekyll Island. Once the semi-tropical stomping grounds of old millionaires, this quiet island feels like one of the best spots to connect with nature in the area. We decided that Magic Hour would be the perfect time to check out the island and see Driftwood Beach.
With its expansive salt-water marshes and stark timber statues, the island forces you to drink in its venerable beauty. An abundance of beautiful white-tail deer, wildflowers, and varying species of birds thrive in one of Georgia’s most biodiverse areas. It’s quiet and pure, as all protected places should be, with high-tide waves rippling against ancient husks of wood. These pillars of lumber stand as a testament to the power time has, even over nature. Once a maritime forest, every hour this place slowly erodes and decays into the sand and water.
Something about water calms my overly nervous mind, a mind that has an aversion to swimming in saltwater waves. A mind that is overstimulated by too much content from too many places. A mind that has been despairing at the state of the world. But for a brief while on this alien beach, my general agitation subsides. We sit in silence. The relaxed silence of people appreciating a similar moment, not wanting to let that moment pass too quickly. Spotted sandpipers scurry at a safe distance from the stone bench we rest on, American white pelicans dive bomb into the water looking for dinner, a small toddler and his mother are laughing as the tide comes in, and a couple both dressed in white pull a small wagon with their elderly dog - its grey snout sniffing the salt air. Again, I am struck by how many different things wild, and not can seemingly coexist serendipitously.
As we depart the shore, our loads are lighter, and our spirits calm.
It’s June and the sun lazily sets on the Golden Isles.
Thank you for reading, with this project I want to place the reader with me in a personal moment that I found compelling. I hope if nothing else, you find my suggestions helpful and that you get out yourself and start writing about moments you also enjoyed. Recommendations will be found below.
Cheers,
Kalli
Eats & Drinks
If you’re a pour-over girlie like me, this place has an excellent Ethiopian roast. It’s called the Ethiopian Gedeb Gotiti (flavors are raspberry, mango, and honey). If they run out of that, their Whistler Blend (flavors are dark chocolate, cherry, almond) is also solid as a pour-over option.
If you want iced, try the vanilla latte with oat milk (my go-to at any new place).
They serve delightful blueberry scones as well.
The amount of times Steed and I went for ice cream was over the top, but this place was solid and the line was out the door at 9 pm every night.
If ice cream isn’t your jam, there are hordes of different flavor fudges, candied apples, pralines, pecans, and any other sugary morsel you can dream up.
If there’s pasta, you bet your bottom dollar I will find it. Sadly I did not try any of their wines and now my failure is complete.
Three Little Birds - Fly In, Fly Out
We biked here for breakfast and it was solid, I got the grit bowl with scrambled eggs and it was hearty and flavorful!
Vegetarian/Vegan Food Options (Happy Cow is a great site to check for restaurants in your area)
Places in the South are inherently harder to find these food options, but they do exist.
Sea Salt Healthy Kitchen - vegan items are denoted by a green dot.
Mellow Mushroom Pizza - has vegan cheese, and tempeh for pizza, hoagies, and sandwiches.
Bubba Garcia’s Mexican Cantina - offers subs for tofu for any meat, the ability to ask for no cheese and vegetable fajitas. Also as denoted by Happy Cow the beans should have no lard in them, but ask your waiter of course!
Craft Beer
My beach beer for this trip was the Southbound Brewing Mountain Jam. A southern lager out of Savannah, Georgia with Citra, Camarillo, and cascade notes. Light, but super refreshing and available at local gas stations and package stores.
Points of Interest
This is one of the more popular public-access beaches in the area where we spent a good portion of our time and it has public parking.
There are beautiful sea oats (they’re protected so no touching) and we saw a pod of dolphins one afternoon.
Bring your pups, this beach is dog-friendly!
Car entry is $10 dollars per day ($15 if you have more than 8 people in your vehicle)
The driftwood beach is beautiful (and dog friendly), I recommend going in the evening a little bit before sunset to enjoy the colors on the saltwater marshes and to see pelicans hunting.
Don’t be like me and forget your birding book and binoculars, this place is fantastic for bird watching. Listen…if you have also reached the ripe age of 31, it’s high time you take up an elderly hobby, EMBRACE IT.
$9 for ages 4-12 and $11 for ages 13 and up.
This center aims to rehabilitate sick and injured sea turtles and return them to the wild.
Built during the 1920s the school was the main educational structure for three African American communities on St. Simons Island.
Protected by the land trust, and is a great spot for hiking, biking, and birding in a protected maritime forest.
$12 for adults and $6 for ages 6-12.
It has a neat view of the island and was built between 1868-1872.
I mostly thought about my hatred of heights and William Dafoe yelling at Robert Pattinson to admit that he liked his lobster…
DEI in the area (These are my perceptions and observations of how intolerant/tolerant an area seems to be to diverse people groups. Please let me know if you have had a positive or negative experience in an area and I will include it in the list. *I know you can’t truly understand the depth of a place in a handful of days, but hopefully, this clarifies what it felt like while I was there.)
Several shops did have posters promoting Pride Celebrations so that was nice to see. Happy Pride y’all!🌈 Little Zooks held the first-ever Pride event in the Golden Isles this year!
Anytime I travel I look for other people of color and varying ethnicities, I was pleasantly surprised to see there was a good bit of diversity among vacationers here.
St. Simon is on the coast of Georgia in a deep southern state so an exorbitant amount of history and land is tied to enslavement and plantation culture. Check out the Saint Simons African American Heritage Coalition, which is working to educate, preserve, and revitalize African American heritage in the area.
At the St. Simon Lighthouse Museum, there are ramps on the rear side of the building for wheelchair accessibility. There’s a rough pathway through the courtyard that connects the Heritage Center (where you buy museum tickets) and the rear entrance ramp to the St. Simons Lighthouse Museum. If you are unable to make the climb to the top of the lighthouse there is a 3D Virtual Tour you can access.
There’s a specific souvenir shop in the downtown village on the main strip that had aggressive signage on their store window berating usages of them/they pronouns and championing ignorant and hateful takes. It’s giving bigoted old man yelling at clouds. So I avoided that place at all costs and recommend you do too.
St. Simon Island might be for you if:
If you want more nature and less of an airbrush/mini golf vibe out of your beach vacation (no shade to a solid airbrush tee though).
Like the idea of biking to any place you want to go (this area is bike-friendly and we spent half of our time riding on bike paths to get coffees or to see the shore).
Have an interest in history.
Love seafood, especially oysters (the area had a great variety of fresh options).
Like bird watching.
Don’t mind staying at a place, not on the beach (there are places located near the shoreline, but we also saw a lot of vacation spots further in town).
Like getting your steps in on your vacation (there are a lot of great paths and trails for walking and running).
You also want to fly into/visit the city of Savannah, Georgia. Savannah is about an hour and fifteen minutes from St. Simon.
