Maria, a close friend and mentor, came to me for advice for a change. She needed help choosing a Florida city to host her organization’s upcoming writers conference. She knew it would be easy to find the actual conference center, but she wanted a location that offered more. It had to have atmosphere. It needed to inspire.
Without hesitation, I suggested Jacksonville and seized the opportunity to invite her on a road trip to experience the city firsthand.
“Wow,” Maria exclaimed, strolling along vibrant Park Street, in the 5 Points District. She looked more relaxed than ever after the nudge of a hoppy local brew on the patio at Birdie’s, a quirky and comfortable bar that embodies the 5 Points vibe. The usually reserved scholar let her guard down, smiling back and chatting with passersby.
As we walked the neighborhood, neither of us could decide what was more impressive in 5 Points—the youthful energy, the varied and colorful storefronts or the inventive restaurants and shops.
Some young couples passed by pushing strollers, others walking their dogs. A college-age kid with multiple piercings whirred by us on a skateboard, and a retiree with gigantic sunglasses and a fabulous bouffant waved with a smile as we angled for shade under awnings of the colorfully painted, early-to-mid-20th century buildings.
For dinner, we scouted nearby Riverside for a venue with ample space for large gatherings—one that had a great craft beer selection and a unique ambiance per Maria’s mandate. She wanted to be sure conference attendees had a good place to gather after hours. We discovered Kickbacks Gastropub/ Goozlepipe & Guttyworks, and The Belgian Basement—a dining establishment that has expanded its name and offerings along with each of its physical expansions.
In the bar, we looked up at beer taps hanging from the ceiling. A million pennies graced the walls along with gears, tin boxes and other steampunk bric-a-brac. Maria was thrilled that they had her favorite Lambic on the list of more than 100 brews. For dinner, I decided on some comfort—the Monte Cristo, a triple-decker ham, turkey, and cheese sandwich deep-fried and topped with powdered sugar, served with strawberry sauce. Maria, a vegetarian, ordered a tempeh burger, and seemed more than satisfied. We agreed that the writers attending her conference would love this place.
Options are important, though, so we set out to find a dining space in another genre—this time scouting a contemporary, sophisticated retreat. A cocktail wouldn’t hurt either. Our local companion told us about a loungy spot with an amazing view—the River & Post Rooftop Bar, one of several of its type in Jacksonville.
River & Post offered an enchanting sunset with a pastel twilight sky, panoramic views of the skyline and the St. Johns—a view that exhilarated and soothed. We settled in and Maria, who had offered to be the designated driver for the evening, treated herself to a chocolate mousse torte and some coffee. I went for the Summit: Tito’s vodka, St. Germain elderflower, blueberry syrup, lemon and soda with blueberry Meyer lemon shrub. Drink in hand, I leaned back on a large, comfy patio sofa to enjoy the dazzling city lights below and charming string lights above. A talented jazz duo provided the soundtrack.
We strolled along the river in Memorial Park, where the moon reflecting on the water and kids playing soccer vied to distract us from the aged beauty of the grand old oak trees.
Speaking of those mossy oaks—they were everywhere in Jax. We walked the neighborhoods by the river and couldn’t get enough of those tree canopies—the best free thing to see in Jacksonville. I hadn’t been planning to attend Maria’s conference, but a reason to return to these picturesque streets would be hard to pass up.
Before heading to the stately, beautifully appointed Riverdale Inn bed and breakfast, we looked for something easy and free to do to cap off our night. We took a leisurely drive through Avondale, a neighborhood built in the early 20th century and listed on the National Historic Registry. A free multimedia guide by the Riverside Avondale Preservation Society helped us along the way.
Maria and I chose which Mediterranean Revival home we’d buy once we came out with a bestseller. Aspirations were contagious in Jacksonville, another selling point for the writer’s conference she was planning.
Well-rested, we ventured back to 5 Points in the morning to meet up with a Jacksonville-based friend. She introduced us to Ukraine-born Alex Podlyas, owner of the Ribault Bakery & Coffee—named after Jax’s most famous forebear and French explorer.
Our senses awakened, knocked back by the intense fresh-baked aroma. Alex and his staff bake everything daily, but we were told you must arrive by 3 p.m., when the pastries usually sell out.
I chose a decadent pan chocolat followed by a crisp macchiato. Before leaving, I observed the other diners and noticed the impeccably pressed paninis, which Alex said he catered for events.
Maria whispered to me, “I might just take him up on that.” At this point, I decided I would definitely be attending the conference if she planned to hold it in Jacksonville.
Time to burn off those calories. We rode bikes to the creatively utilized underpass, where Riverside Arts Market spread out—totally impressed by the sheer breadth of vendors and displays.
Looking for tours to recommend to the conference attendees, we booked an E2Ride tour of San Marco, an 11-mile ride through another historic, grand neighborhood. This one was molto speciale (very special)—it got its inspiration from Venice, Italy. This San Marco Square is smaller than the famed piazza in Italy, and it has fewer pigeons, but it’s charming just the same. The enclave attracts residents and tourists alike with its trendy outdoor shopping and galleries. My favorite of the district: the art deco San Marco Theatre.
After our ride, we decided to check out the Springfield neighborhood. Maria craved pizza, but I needed a gluten-free pie, and I found one with the most delectably fluffy crust at Crispy's Springfield Gallery. We ordered a pizza with duxelles mushroom paste, Roma tomatoes, goat cheese and arugula. The meal brought us back to Italy all over again via our taste buds—talk about a Mediterranean revival! We followed up appropriately with cappuccino at Social Grounds Coffee.
On the final day of our scouting mission, Maria and I decided to hit the trails in the Timucuan Preserve, which winds through shady hammocks along undeveloped beaches. The preserve covers 46,000 acres. There was no way we could cover the whole thing in a day, so we chose the Theodore Roosevelt Area. It only took us about 20 minutes to get there from downtown Jax.
There was something mystical, otherworldly about walking the paths used by Native Americans. Evidence of past lives could be seen in mounds of shells, created almost a millennium ago. I told Maria that I was the most inspired I’d been all weekend. The beauty of the rivers and salt marshes overtook us both.
“This is the place,” she said a few minutes later, gazing out at the marsh disturbed only by a solitary heron.
After all she’d done for me over the years, I was happy that I succeeded in my mission. I’d shown her a place to bring people together, somewhere ready to welcome anyone seeking inspiration, motivation, and rejuvenation.