Do you walk to school or carry your lunch?

March in Naples is, to coin a phrase, a no-brainer. The weather, the landscaping, the condos, its heaven on earth, at least according to the real estate agents, who are as thick as flies on dog effluence. The only remaining choice was how to get there. Fly or Drive, that is, or was, the question. After extensive research, the answer was clear, it all depends. We finally came down on the side of avoiding those crowded airports and nerve-wrecking flights and decided to drive to Florida. Never mind that those nasty old airlines can usually get you there in half a day.

I-95 is a long snake of a highway that starts somewhere up in Maine and winds its way all the way down to the tip of Florida. But rather than Conrad’s river that leads into the heart of darkness, I-95 eventually, after slogging through a roster of tired northeastern cities, provides an avenue of escape from the cold dreary days of winter, also known as the heart of coldness.

With this in mind, we hit the road on Saturday, February 23, leaving Plymouth Behind after a final farewell breakfast at Fat Mike’s, thereby taking on a little cholesterol for the road. We were supposed to leave on Friday, but Mother Nature came through for us with a serious snow storm. We drove through the storm’s remains all the way down to White Plains where we met son, Matt, for lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. More health food. We the crossed the mighty Hudson via the Tappan Zee bridge and spent the night in scenic Rockland County. We did take in a flick in New City. We gave “Vantage Point” two thumbs down. This was another case of a movie with a great cast and a non-existent plot. Go figure.

Starting out the next morning, we crossed into New Jersey on I-287 and followed it down to I-78 to head west towards Pennsylvania. Yeah, I know, we were by-passing good old I-95 until we got beyond Washington DC. Somewhere out near Harrisburg, I-78 merged with I-81 and headed south. I checked to see if Three Mile Island was still aglow, but as we crossed the Susquehanna, we were distracted by strange natural phenomena. The sun came out for the first time since January and we didn’t recognize it at first.

I-81 was a good highway with light traffic and we soon passed through Maryland, West Virginia and cruised by Winchester Virginia, where we hung a right and headed over to Fredericksburg, VA, between Washington and Richmond, and were re-united with good old I-95. The scenic western loop probably added 90 miles to the trip, but it eliminated all the heavy traffic down through the Jersey Turnpike and on to the DC Beltway. Our verdict was that it was well worth it.

The next morning we circumnavigated Richmond and on pushed on to Florence South Carolina. Florence, as you probably know, was last-year’s runner up for Double-wide capital of the U.S. We did, however, have a nice dinner at a sort-of Italian restaurant. Tearing ourselves away from the flesh pots of Florence, we pushed off for Florida the next morning.

Before we passed into the Sunshine State, however, we had to cruise past the exits for Hilton Head, Charleston and Savannah. All the good places were crammed into this one stretch of highway, where the almost forgotten art of the billboard is thriving. But we could sense Florida’s proximity and pushed on to Jacksonville where we were met with a couple of hours of end-of-the-world thunderstorms. Good thing Mary was driving as I was busy ducking from the lightning bolts.

After spending the night in Melbourne, we continued on to Boynton Beach where we visited with our friends Lenny and Charlotte. Lenny, as expected , pulled out all the stops. We had ribs at his latest restaurant find, a brunch at their club and sampled some authentic Florida Chinese food. The tires on the Benz were under pressure as we waved good bye.

Our next and final stop was Pompano Beach where we over-nighted with Mary’s cousin, Paula and her husband Jack. Pompano is a neat little town, sort of baja Palm Beach. Jack toured us all the way down into Ft. Lauderdale via the Inter-coastal in his trusty yacht. After he pointed out one particular marina where admittance was limited to those whose boat length is at least 100 feet, I knew we weren’t in Kansas anymore. I think we passed boats with a combined value that would probably exceed the GDP of most small countries.

Saturday morning, we were off across the Everglades, 100 miles to Naples, aka Valhalla. We arrived around 1:00 pm and after stocking up on Cheerios, moved into our home for the month of March.

As to the great, “fly-or-drive” question, we decided that the drive had been quite pleasant and it was good to have our car especially as it was filled with a lot of items we would not have been able to take on a plane trip. Hand-weights, for example. Our sense is that if you have the time, driving might just be the way to go.