About five months ago we made a completely spontaneous decision to leave Washington after more than a decade in the PNW and more to Florida. A month and a half later, our house was packed and we were driving south like we’d been planning it for years.

We hadn’t been actively thinking about moving when my husband casually brought up relocating to Florida - which honestly made it even more exciting. Within five minutes of the conversation, I was already on Zillow. With the of family and friends, our belongings were picked up a few weeks later and we hit the road to a house we had rented sight unseen, running purely on trust, adrenaline, and optimism.

From Washington to Florida

With our stuff already on its way and a new house waiting, we didn’t have time for a slow scenic road trip, but we did make room for a few detours that felt too iconic to skip. Mount Rushmore in South Dakota was one of them.

One of the biggest surprises was Iowa. I wasn’t expecting much from the drive, but the whole state felt lush and calm with rolling green landscapes that looked almost unreal, and towns that were unexpectedly charming. Every stop for snacks or bathroom breaks turned into a small reminder that people really can be kind for no reason.

The drive was long but it never felt heavy - it felt like the beginning of something. And when we finally pulled into Palm Coast it was immediate: the real thing was even better than the pictures. We’ve spent the past few months settling in and exploring, and suddenly life includes things we never had easy access to before; like shelling, fishing at the ocean, and the beaches being part of normal weekends.

Flagler and Rattlesnake Island

So far, one of my favorite parts of living in Florida has been the sunrises. Flagler Beach is the kind of place that makes you wake up early without resenting it. The beach is clean, the shells are everywhere, and at low tide during sunrise you can see rock formations that are completely hidden once the water rises later in the day.

But Flagler isn’t just beautiful; it’s layered. In the mid 1500s this area was home to the Timucua people and by the late 1500s European colonization brought conflict, violence, and disease that devastated Indigenous communities. Stories from this coastline include events like the Matanzas massacre, and even when a place looks peaceful, the history underneath it is heavy.

Right near the Matanzas area is a small spot called Rattlesnake Island - and if you are looking for shells it absolutely delivers. The water is calmer, the waves are minimal, and it’s become one of our favorite family places for swimming and shelling. It feels like a tiny hidden oasis.

Tips For Finding The Best Shells

The best shelling conditions are early morning at low tide, especially around a new moon or after a storm. The water pulls farther back and the waves toss up things you wouldn’t normally see.
Keep track of your best shelling spots like a personal treasure map; some places are consistently better than others.
Bring a bucket so your hands stay free and your shells stay safe.

Kelly Park/Rock Springs

Rock springs genuinely looks like a screensaver. It’s split into two different experiences: one area inside Kelly Park for tubing and swimming, and another section past the bridge where you can kayak down the springs (no swimming allowed there). The water stays crystal clear and about 68f year round, which is unreal in the Florida heat.

It’s also extremely popular - Kelly Park often hits max capacity within an hour of opening at 8am so getting there early matters. Cards are accepted, but cash is smart to have just in case.

As someone from Finland, floating down what basically feels like a jungle lazy river is not something I grew up doing. The whole experience felt exotic in the best way; bright sun overhead, cold water below, and scenery that looks almost too beautiful to be real. Even with a lot of people around, it still felt peaceful because the springs are so wide and open.

Beyond the water, the park itself is well kept and easy for a full day trip: large parking lot, clean bathrooms, picnic areas, BBQ stands, and a tube rental spot right outside the entrance, which was perfect for us as Florida newbies.

Bulow Plantation Ruins & Historic Park

One thing I didn’t expect to find just 20 minutes from our new home: sugar mill ruins and the remains of a plantation. Naturally, we went immediately.

Bulow Plantation Ruins Historic Park contains the ruins of an antebellum plantation and sugar mill built from coquina - a sedimentary rock made of compressed shells, which somehow makes the whole site feel even more haunting. The structure is beautiful in a weathered way, but the history is dark, and the contrast sits in the air while you walk through it.

We also stopped to see the Fairchild Oak, and pictures don’t even come close. It’s massive (one of the largest oaks in the southeast) and standing under it feels like standing under something ancient and watching time pass in real time. The area is wrapped in local folklore including stories of deaths connected to the property, and whether the details are true or not, the site has that eerie stillness you only feel in places where a lot has happened.

Before it was destroyed during the Second Seminole War in 1836, Bulow Plantation grew sugar cane, cotton, and rice. The scattered tools and remaining structures tell a story that’s hard to ignore once you’re standing there. The plantation was established in 1821 by Charles Bulow, and after his death his teenage son John inherited it and kept the business running. The relationships between settlers, militias, and the Seminoles were complicated and violent, and the plantation eventually burned in 1836. John Bulow died the following year, devastated by the loss.

The old sugar mill ruins also have trails leading to them, and smaller paths around the site fun to explore, though I showed up in a dress so we kept it to the shorter trails that day.

Florida Keys

The Florida Keys are a chain of islands stretching about 120 miles off the southern tip of Florida, connected by bridges and surrounded by water so bright it looks edited. At the far end is Key West, which feels like its own tiny universe.

Driving through the Keys you pass little towns, beach pull offs, and stretches of clear blue water that looks unreal against the palm trees. The vibe is instantly tropical and slow in the best way.

The word “key” comes from small, low elevation islands formed over coral reefs as sea levels changed over time. Key Largo is the longest at about 30 miles long, but the Keys are made up of hundreds of islands; over 800 total.

In Key West we ate at DJ’s Clam Shack on Duval Street and had lobster rolls with cold beers. I’ve only had lobster rolls one other time (in the Hamptons at Lunch) so I had some expectations and these exceeded them. Huge lobster chunks, perfect slaw, great fries, and the staff was genuinely kind. Plus, they were happy to have Moose (our dog) sit with us which instantly makes me loyal.

Key Wests charm is everywhere: pastel houses, deep porches, eclectic little details, bohemian art, and quirky energy that makes you feel like vacation mode turns on automatically. And then there are the chickens. I knew Key West had chickens… I didn’t realize it was that many!

Part of it is history - cockfighting culture from Cuban immigrants in the 1800s, and later when it became illegal many roosters were released. Another part is practical: early settlers kept backyard chickens for food, and once the island became connected to the mainland by railroads and bridges, that need faded and chickens were released into the wild. Now they are a full character in the citys identity, so much so that feeding wild chickens is banned because the population is already intense.

Driving on the Seven Mile Bridge was one of the most beautiful parts of the whole trip; blue water in every direction, the road stretched across it like a ribbon. It’s the kind of drive that makes you quiet without trying.

Everyday Things

So far life in the sunshine state has been genuinely good. The greenery feels almost tropical compared to the PNW, and being surrounded by it makes it easy to fall into a creative mood. We’ve been truing new little adventures, new projects, and Moose has been along for it.

Seeing Moose experience the ocean for the first time was amazing experience for us as well. He was a stray puppy who ended up at the Spokane Humane Society and now he’s living his best life across the country, obsessed with beaches and fully convinced small lizards are his personal enemies.

Watching sunrise at the beach stil feels special every time. The sky looks like a live oil painting, and while you walk you’ll see yoga classes, people searching for shells, and the quiet rhythm of Florida mornings happening all at once.

Living near shell heavy beaches also introduced me to new crafts; one of them being decoupage. I make shell pieces using tissue paper, mod podge, and gold detailing - they feel like the perfect “Florida artifact”.

And the food culture here has been just as inspiring. I’ve been trying new dishes constantly, and the exotic fruit and cultural variety in this area feels like a dream for someone who loves cooking. I’m obsessed with the freshly pressed sugarcane juice at farmers markets, and fruit juices like soursop that I used to only read about.

Honestly, it still feels like we’ve barely scratched the surface of what Florida has to offer - and I can’t wait to keep exploring.

florida experience …so far