Travel Blog

Arrived in Sarasota early Saturday morning for my travel writing workshop at Selby Library. A farmers' market - a subtropical no-brainer that Fort Lauderdale has never managed to pull off - cut across Main Street, offering baked goods, seafood, breakfast burritos, grilled bratwurst, flowers, fruits, vegetables, pasta, Bloody Mary mix. Lots of dogs were on leash - labs, boxers, a bulldog named Buddha, a barking dachshund, a beautiful Bernese mountain dog.

I walked down Main Street, happy to see that the three bookstores were still in business. This is three more than Las Olas has. One is an excellent second-hand shop (a number of years ago I bought a copy of George Ade's Chicago Stories here), one is a paperback and comic book store, and one is a bookstore-newsstand-cafe. There were also a handful of inexpensive Asian restaurants - Thai and Vietnamese.

Sarasota is as wealthy a town as Fort Lauderdale, so how these businesses can afford to be on Main Street is beyond me. Here we have to drive to cheap ethnic restaurants (often west of I-95) and our expeditions to new bookstores always end at chains. Sarasota is doing something right.

True, the people had a somewhat uniform look - lots of hale, angular, ex-boardroom types in polo shirts - but sprinkled among them were two Mennonite women in ankle-length dresses and two charming young female troubadours. They had finished their busking - "One man gave us a $20 bill," the girl with the guitar said in amazement - but asked if I'd like to hear a song. I said I would, and there under the tent of the pasta maker they gave me a private, sweet-voiced concert.