Oh, the grounds, the grounds of the Club Continental! And the river that’s so wide you’d think it was the endless ocean. Courtyards and elegant statuary are sprinkled throughout the property along with those dramatic trees holding so many stories in their arms, (now mine, included) each standing guard over the gardens filled with white and pink caladiums (or shall I say “caladiae”).

I thought about all the guests who’ve come before me to enjoy this beauty. They were there among the hibiscus trees, Japanese yews and ferns of every type, strolled along by the pond filled with slow-moving turtles and the most colorful of orange and pearl-colored fish (who seemed actually to make a barking sound, accustomed to guests feeding them, I suppose) all surrounded by flourishing vines bent over arched windows and doors – What this does for the soul!


The architecture and ambience of this place is thoroughly old world Florida with its green enameled woodwork, creamy stucco and stone, clay roofed-loveliness, refined like nobody’s business. I read that in the 1920’s and 30’s, the mansion, formerly known as Mira Rio, was host to the most lavish events in the area such as masquerade balls, formal dinners and dances. I can see why.


Receiving my key from Terry, the innkeeper, who remembered every bit of our phone conversation from many weeks ago, down to the time of my dinner reservation, we walked around the property as she told about the restaurant, the three sparkling swimming pools and seven inviting tennis courts. (They offer tennis lessons + David gave me a new tennis racquet = a plan for my next visit).


My requested English Room was having repairs done, she said, so I received an upgrade. After moving into a River View Suites room in the other building, I voiced great disappointment at its mundane ambience, of its downright ugliness, its motel-ness. Apparently, some folks think any room that’s at water’s edge is an upgrade, but that’s just not so. I’d say avoid the River View Suites. They are a complete anomaly and just don’t measure up to the excellence of the rest of the place.

So, I was moved to a true upgrade, the Continental, an expansive corner room filled with pretty furnishings and soft-colored rugs atop polished hardwood floors. Yes, that was better.

The Continental

This was a nice added touch – a pretty hand-painted mural in the bathroom.


That evening, I freshened up and scurried down to the restaurant, having looked forward to it for several weeks. Then, things became interesting!

I had made a reservations at Club Continental’s restaurant a month in advance for two different evenings. Friday came, and I dressed in something pretty, looking forward to my window table overlooking the river – a lovely dinner in a special spot. Upon arrival, however, I was told that all their tables were filled for the night. Pardon? The maitre d’ apologized, exclaiming about their large crowd, all the while quickly showing me to a small, sad table sequestered behind a column at the back of the room within arm’s reach of the swinging metal kitchen doors.

I asked how far in advance one must make a reservation to be assured a good table, for mine was made a month ago. ? I pointed to those folks sitting at the choice tables, and asked wryly, “When did they make their reservation? Last week, I’ll bet.”

Agreeing to sit at the bar for dinner, (if they only knew – bars are my least favorite places in the world! ?) I decided to make it a happy decision. The meal was delightful and the conversation was truly unbelievable. I mean that. Seriously. It was utterly fantastical in the most literal sense of the word, with Fred-the-bartender telling me some incredible stories of his past. The complexity of his life required several charts which I diligently kept in my head as he spoke, asking pertinent questions to keep it all in chronological order. Turns out that Fred, with his quirky personality, saved the evening. What entertainment!

But get this – A week later, upon my return trip through Jacksonville, I pulled into the parking lot once again, grabbed the bag from the car and hurried to my room to dress for dinner. It would have been tempting to cancel my reservation given last week, but I decided I would give them another chance to seat me at my requested window table.

Stepping to the desk, I gave my name (to a different person from last week) and was informed that they were full for the evening and did not have the requested spot, so sorry. My jaw dropped at this amazing situation presenting itself once again, almost identically. I asked in my snarky way (you know that way, right?) where I’d be seated and I added questioningly, with raised eyebrow, “At the sad little table near the kitchen?” He sang out “No, No, madam” as he showed me to another no-view table. Surprisingly, he appeared again rather quickly, after a conversation and lots of scurrying about, and offered the beautiful window table I had originally requested and all was well. (Maybe they could sense that I’m a diva) 😉 Here’s the thing, though: I’m realizing I might have enjoyed the night even more had Fred-the-bartender joined me to offer up additional tales (as fast as he could think ’em up ?) of his astonishing past!

There you have it, my take on several nights at the restaurant. Now, back to the food! It was delish…

For starters, there was a basket of warm onion bread with softened herb butter. I tried not to ravage the bread basket as I’m wont to do. ? I enjoyed so much the flavors combined with my sips of Merlot. As a surprise, Fred-the-bartender brought out a tiny presentation of two bites of the most savory beef with a luscious remoulade on the side. Spectacular.


Then for the entree, I ordered the butternut squash ravioli with crusty sage and a brown butter cream with a side of spinach and broccoli soufflé. Dessert was a crunchy yet smooth pecan pie with a dollop of whipped cream. What can I say. Dreamy.


Most of the diners there that night were members of The Club Continental and I believe they’re the ones who frequent the restaurant the most. Members. I observed that so many of the guests knew the wait staff well. Based on a brochure I happened upon, there appear to be several types of membership packages – for dining, swimming and tennis. I imagine you’ve put two and two together as to whom the maitre d’ would give seating preference to, right? ?

Most of the second day there was spent simply walking the property in the sprinkling but steady rain and enjoying my cool and breezy corner room with it’s large, furnished balcony. The French doors stayed open so I could feel and smell the breeze coming up from the St. Johns. I’m a river girl, having grown up near them in Texas, and the river always speaks to me. I read, took notes, planned and made lists as I prepared myself for a few projects coming up. Nothing like a quiet and calming spot near the river to inspire the dickens out of you.


Sunday, after a sumptuous veggie omelet, I walked a mere three blocks to attend the 10:30 am service at Grace Episcopal Church. Then, stopped by Starbucks right next door. I noted, too, that there are several other churches within walking distance – Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian and a Community Church.


Afterwards, I packed my bags, hopped in the car and tooled out I-10 West towards 30A, stopping at the airport in Panama City Beach to pick up my sister Ann, who arrived from Texas mid-afternoon. Then, the fun began as we enjoyed together the ocean, the beach, the sunrise, sunset, the shops, and the food!

The Club Continental is probably not the most opulent place you’ll ever stay. There’s no gleaming marble. It’s not a pristine, high-dollar vacation spot. However, it has a lived-in charm, a fascinating history, that comfortable, old, worn out elegance I adore, with the sweet breezes of a rolling river to sooth and inspire. What had been a few negatives (the River View Suite experience, which was quickly remedied) and the restaurant’s botches (which were rescued by the inclusion of the most insanely entertaining dinner conversation imaginable) all made for quite the story. Maybe, ultimately, it was all meant to be, and truly just what I was looking for.

Love, ?

Jane

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