Welcome to Pensacola!

I've become accustomed to life in an Airbnb since my arrival in Pensacola, Florida, and generally I have no complaints. Who could object to this view of their backyard in December?

I feel lucky to be here in Gulf Breeze, with its proximity to some of the most beautiful beaches I've experienced in my life. I'm hopeful staying in various Airbnb's is not a permanent way of life. How, you may wonder, did I end up in Pensacola? It's a long story. My epiphany occurred after driving the coastlines of California, Oregon, and the far southwest corner of Washington state, to find a house I could afford. The Australian aborigines had a tradition of a young man doing a walkabout to find themselves. That's as close as I've come to being an Australian. I'm not a young man anymore; the mirror reminds me daily. But this was my walkabout. Fifty days camping out on my land, and thirty driving around three states would have been enough for most people. But not me. I turned right around and drove through five or six states to arrive here, and I still have my things in storage in Saint George, Utah. One day I will get my things out of storage in Utah and make the 1,800 mile drive to Pensacola. No sense in thinking about that now; I think I may still be burned out from the last 2,000 miles on the road. My life is up in the air at Airbnb's until I buy a house, or give up and lease an apartment. I'm okay with whatever the future holds.

After having my eyes opened to the reality that lenders were not going to give me a $350,000 loan, regardless of my excellent credit score, unless I landed a very well paying position, I decided to shop elsewhere for a house. Some would call this an insane idea. Maybe so. One of my brothers encouraged me to buy a house in Idaho. Unfortunately, Idaho has no beaches, and fish tacos are looked upon with suspicion. However, in inquiring, I found a lender in Idaho, with affliliate offices in states with beaches. That is a summary of how I started looking in Pensacola, Florida. 

To my surprise, the prices of houses in this area are quite varied. On the West Coast a house listed for $150,000 would have to be a trailer in a trailer court or a condo. Neither were options for me because the HOA fees are very high. But in Pensacola, a $150,000 house is comparable to a $500,000 house in Oregon and Washington. In most of California, south of San Francisco, the $150,000 house would cost close to a million dollars. But buying a house in Pensacola is like falling in and out of love. What happens is you find a house you like, and you begin to think you might be falling in love with it, and just when you are about to "marry" the house, it turns out to have problems. 

Three times I found houses I loved, and I was about to say "I do" when the inspectors found wood rot, a bad roof, a lack of wind mitigation (metal strapping to hold the roof to the structure in the event of a hurricane), and bad wiring, (aluminum instead of copper). Several okay houses were in rather dicey neighborhoods. A lady real estate agent said the reason for the plethora of houses with repair issues is because of Hurricanes Ivan and Sally. Wood frame houses do not fare well in Pensacola. But hurricanes are fickle beasts; they will leave some houses unscathed in their Caribbean samba dance along the coastline. Hurricanes are also spooky. Hurricane Ivan and Hurricane Sally made landfalls in Pensacola on September 16, 2004, and September 16, 2020, exactly sixteen years apart to the day. Based on this, maybe I suppose I would be wise to plan a holiday in Europe on September 16, 2036. 

The trick is lucking out and finding a house that has no repair issues; a house which will have a favorable four point inspection. The viability of a VA Loan depends on a good inspection. They are rare as marigolds on the moon. I found a lovely house, built in 1935, that had blue labradorite-black granite countertops, marble window and door sills, hardwood floors, and terracotta tile. I envisioned growing wildflowers on the large lot. I was in love again. But the roof, and wood rot repair costs ruined the  romance. As of this writing, I've found a quirky former real estate office as a possible home. I have yet to learn why it has a French motif. I jokingly suggested to Norm, my real estate agent, that it could be a creperie. it has a nuance of a cafe in Casablanca. Of course it has a few problems; all the houses I've seen in Pensacola have problems. But let's talk about Pensacola, a city which has been a possession of England, France, Spain, the Confederacy, and Florida. As a result, it has an eclectic charm. 

Access to beautiful beaches abound. I was elated to discover Pensacola Beach, the most southernly beach community south of Pensacola. Somehow, most of the pretty two and three story houses, and twenty-story resort hotels, are still standing intact after two major hurricanes. The white beaches are pristine, the gentle surf warm as tepid bathwater. What's not to love? The sand squeeked beneath my feet. I felt the endorphins being released in my brain. I stopped at Flounders, one of a many quirky beach restaurants, and had a fish taco. Not as good as my fish tacos, but few are.

                                            

No visit to Pensacola Beach is complete without visiting the iconic UFO house on Via de Luna Drive.

UFOs were once a big topic of conversation in Pensacola Beach. Opinions vary as to whether there was a hoax or an extraterrestrial encounter, in November of 1987. The newstory was published by The Gulf Breeze Sentinel, and featured photos of the alleged UFO. Ed Walters, a contractor in Pensacola Beach, claimed to have taken the photos.

    

When Walters moved from the area, he left a styrofoam model of a UFO in his attic. Pensacola News Journal reporter, Craig Myers, investigated Walters' claims a few years later, criticizing the Sentinel's coverage of the story as "uncritical" and "sensationalist." Myers was able to duplicate Walters’s UFO photos using that styrofoam model. Maybe there really was a UFO, maybe not. Welcome to Pensacola, a strange mix of fruits, nuts, history, and hurricanes. A place I've decided to call home.