With new brake lines filled with fresh brake fluid, we headed up the Gulf Coast to Tarpon Springs. We reached in the warm sunshine of the morning, took a spot in an rv park right near a little bridge, where the manatees can often be seen swimming under to their favorite hangout. We wasted no time in pulling our bicycles down from the roof (where Nicole ties them securely using hitch knots learned from our Smithsonian Knot Guide), packed our backpack and biked out to the sponge docks.
Real sponges are really freaking cool. We found an old Greek gentlemen, sitting on the dock, and trimming the freshly caught sponges to display and sell at the side of the road. He looked so peaceful, and content, snipping his sponges. Mary Lou asked him, "How long you been doing this?" "Since about ten o'clock this morning, mam, " he said, with a knowing smile. We asked who served his favorite greek food in town, and he told us to go to the stop sign and turn left and on the second block, we'd find Costas. The waitress asked us if we wanted a martini. "A martini? What time is it?" Mary Lou asked. The waitress said, "I think it's about 11:30 in the morning." "No. I don't think I can handle a martini this early." "How about two for one sangrias?" May Lou answers, "Sure!"
We went back to the where the old man was trimming the sponges to buy some of them. Nicole asked the spongewallah, "Well, which sponges are for which things? What do you do with them?" And the lady explained how the yellow sponges were utility sponges, for washing cars and dishes and the like. The wool sponges were finer, and used for washing the body. The silk sponges, which only grew palm sized and were found only in Tarpon Springs, were used for washing the face and removing make-up. While she was explaining, she pulled one of each sponge out of the bucket next to her chair and said, "have a feel". I can't even tell you how amazing they felt. We squeezed them and held them, and of course the coarse yellow sponge would be for utility, and the wool sponge, deliciously soft and clean, was for the body, and the vase sponge was clearly vase shaped to plant orchids or air plants in. We each got one of each, and the lady told us that, once a month, give them a nice rinsing in baking soda and water to keep them clean.
We packed our leftovers and sponges into our backpack and rode our bikes down the Pinellas Biking Path, which runs 35 miles from St. Petersburg and ends in Tarpon Springs. Then, we backtracked up the commercial route back into the historic downtown, riding slowly past the Corvette and Vintage Car Museum and showroom, a quick stop at the post office, andsaid a prayer for the recovering health of a friend's mother at St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Chruch. We found the gold gilded artwork inside to be beautiful in its simplicity and craftsmanship. The silver Byzantine icons were especially lovely.
Before we had left for our bike ride, two gentlemen on the porch of a more permanent trailer in the RV resort had invited us to see a great band at Crabby Bill's, near the sponge docks. We cleaned up, got dressed and walked into the the back deck of the Crabby Bill's at about 9:00. It was Friday night, and everyone was out in their tight jeans and square heels to unwind, listen to some great music, and really dance. The band was Slickside, the main star, Billy Sandlin. Billy played guitar, but had played violin for 11 years with the Marshall Tucker band, and the band has shared the stage with Charlie Daniels and Vince Gill and such. Apparently, a lot of musicians retire in and around Tarpon Springs, and great jam sessions are rocking and frequent. The band was fantastic.
And the people were dancing! I think I saw the twist, the watusi, some mashed potato, frug, and the monkey. And all by the same guy, and his alternating wife or daughter partner. But. . . The music stopped at 10:00pm! Tarpon Springs has a noise ordinance curfew of 10:00pm. Nicole felt like she was back in Goa, where the corrupt government had imposed 10:00 curfews on fun. The crowd left, but we got hang around, like groupies, with the band. Great people, all of them characters. We asked about Billy's guitar, and learned that he crafts guitars, and is part of the noted Sandlin family of guitar makers. We met the harmonica player, Roadhouse, who was on the tail end of celebrating his 65th birthday. And the delightfully rocked n rolled lead singer, Miss Jenna. Finally, at closing time, our neighbor that had told us about the show in the morning, Ottawa Bob, invited us back to his place for some single malt. Shared a few glasses of Dalmore 12 with him, and called it a night.
We unpugged early in the morning, and headed North towards Gainesville.
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