If Thomas Kinkade had been a southerner and a city planner, this is the town he would have created.
Amelia Island is the kind of place that everyone’s mom should move to and open up a store and sell beach-scented candles and dried out prickly starfish that have been spray-painted white.
It’s a sweet place with such shops that sell all the stuff men don’t need or want. Consequently, the sidewalks resemble the edges of a dance floor; lots of unaccompanied men, hands in pockets, wondering how much this place is going to cost.
But seriously, the buildings are beautiful and historic. The scent of waffle cones carry you from one block to the next. Parking is free and hard to find. It’s small and yet bustling.
I could see myself retiring here and spray painting starfish for sale in my wife’s future knick knack shop.
