I left the hustle of sunny, downtown Fort Lauderdale, Florida almost two decades – a full twenty years – ago. It’s where I spent most of my formative years. It’s my second home of sorts. But I was just a boy then and that feels like a lifetime ago. So much time has passed and I’ve changed.
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Fortunately, Fort Lauderdale has too. From its former alcohol-induced stupor has sprouted a refined, dare I say cosmopolitan, beach city. To be sure, it’s not South Beach. And it doesn’t pretend to be.
Fort Lauderdale’s always attracted a different crowd, eschewing that too-cool-for-school, “Sorry, you’re not on the list” uber-trendiness. Since at least the 80s, it was one of two no-frills, de facto Spring Break hotspots (I’m looking at you too, Daytona Beach).
It was an era so perfectly captured in this archival video:
From the gaudy neon tanktops, to the boom box carrying b-boys, to the lethally drunk, frizzy-haired college co-eds, it’s so deliciously awful, it’s hard to believe that it’s not a Saturday Night Live skit.
However, things change. Fort Lauderdale has made great strides toward leaving its raunchy, booze-fueled, adolescent reputation in the past. Daily wet t-shirt contests at beachfront meat markets like the now defunct The Candy Store have given way to spa treatments at four star hotels, upscale dining options (Todd English anyone?), and morning coffee at Starbucks. Nowadays, many vacationers are often easy-going folks looking for a no-frills, toes-in-the-sand good time with a bit of a buzz on.
It’s a world away from what I remember as a kid. And now I’ve come back. I’ve come home again, this time as an adult to see how it’s evolved since I last left. I’m here for four days to pregame the upcoming Big Games. For those of you keeping score at home, that’s the Pro Bowl this coming weekend (Sunday, January 31) and Super Bowl the following weekend (February 7). It’s the first time ever that Florida has hosted both Bowl games and the frenzy is already reaching a fever pitch, as I quickly found out on my first outing on Fort Lauderdale’s premiere beach strip: A1A.
Touching Down on Sunday Afternoon
A Minor Upgrade at the Rental Counter
The almost universal downturn in the travel industry during the past year has opened up a wealth of bargains for the patient traveler.
I reserved a standard mid-sized car through Hertz at Fort Lauderdale airport for less than $40 per day. But a little perusing of their website the night prior to my departure revealed a bevy of premium class cars still available. Upon arrival, I inquired about available upgrades. And whaddaya know? They had a shiny, canary yellow Corvette ZHZ Convertible available for less than half the advertised rate. For the duration of my stay, I’m cruising comfortably in this little beauty:
If you’re looking to pregame in style, there are worse ways to get around Fort Lauderdale. This thing is so damn fun, you’ll wonder why you bothered getting a hotel in the first place. Why spend any time in your room? It’s 80 degrees and sunny and you’ve got 500 horsepower on tap to do with as you wish. Do the math.
il Lugano All Suites Hotel
… unless of course your hotel is an equally brand new, all-suites endeavor like il Lugano.
The Lobby at il Lugano, Fort Lauderdale
Located directly on the intercoastal waterway and just two blocks from the Atlantic Ocean, il Lugano is ideally situated to take advantage of everything Fort Lauderdale Beach has to offer. It’s close enough to the action – just five minutes by car or taxi – that you could easily walk it; yet far enough removed from the late night revelers and live steel drum bands of the main drag.
Overlooking the Intercoastal Waterway from a Private Balcony
A quick rundown of the included amenities:
- Large private terraces, with spectacular ocean and Intracoastal Waterway views
- Deluxe European linens and bedding
- Wireless Internet access and laptops to rent
- In-suite spa treatments by appointment
- Bose sound system with iPod docking station
- One LCD 32-inch flat-panel television
- Fully equipped gourmet kitchens
- Interactive DirectTV
- Ceiling fans
- Turn-down service every evening
- Complimentary newspapers USA Today and Wallstreet Journal (Monday-Friday)
- Plush bath robes, cotton slippers, and ultra-soft, oversized bath towels
- Luxurious European bath amenities
- Washers and dryers
- Gourmet honor bar
- In suite dining and laundry and valet services
I can personally vouch for each and every one of these. And the rooms are every bit as luxurious as the above list would suggest.
From the reception desk, to the housekeepers, to the valets (who I swear are sitting in my car 24/7 waiting to bring it to me), the service throughout my stay has been impeccable.
I would recommend it to anyone visiting Fort Lauderdale. See for yourself what others are saying about il Lugano: via TripAdvisor or Expedia where 92% of travelers recommend the hotel (as of January 2010).
Check out their frequently updated internet specials and packages, including rates now starting at $199/night for the month of January. In this area, that’s a steal.
Full Moon Over Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida © Michele Eve
Pre-Gaming with Playoff Fans Sunday Night
LuLu’s Bait Shack
It’s the weekend of the NFL conference championships – four teams will be winnowed down to just two – and it seems every bar on the strip is roaring with the cheers and jeers of football fans. It’s the last two big games before The Big Game.
I hit the ground running to soak up the playoff festivities at LuLu’s Bait Shack. It’s a no-frills tourist bar that’s made the transition between old Fort Lauderdale and new quite seamlessly. It’s laid back as hell and the patrons are tipsy enough to not mind the constant fanfare surrounding them. They, in fact, don’t even mind the fifty-something couple in matching Minnesota Vikings jerseys who are so into the game, you’d swear they just personally came out of the huddle with Favre. They’re that into it.
I down two Blue Moons and somehow feel a little too chic with the orange garnish hanging off the side. Sure it’s not manly, but it tastes so damn good. The spices of the Belgian style ale work nicely with my Blackened Mahi Po Boy and sweet potato fries.
As you might imagine, fresh seafood is a way of life down here. And they’ve rather perfected a culinary style dubbed Floribbean – part Florida, part Caribbean. Clever, no? The taxonomy works and so does the deliciously unique blend of spices, ingredients and preparation.
I eye my bar stool neighbor and his wife who are blissfully sipping from a fishbowl filled with six straws, an array of fruit, an impossibly neon pink liquid, and a squeaky plastic alligator toy. Locals Jason and Lauren assure me that it’s essentially, “all booze. Even the alligator is filled with 151 (proof) rum.” Of course it is. It’s clear that they’re perfectly content to gild the alcohol lily around these parts.
His parting advice to me: Fat Tuesday across the way is tops. And, if I’m looking for a disturbingly large frozen cocktail with a thoroughly unnecessary amount of alcohol, try the 190 Octane. Solid tip.
On to Hooters
Not a Hooters Fort Lauderdale Waitress
(Of course I didn’t need to include the above photo. Everyone’s familiar with the requisite Hooters uniform. But … c’mon. If I can weave such visual aids into the flow of my travel dispatches, by gum, I’m going to do it in the name of being a thorough and professional blogger!)
Hooters identifies itself as “delightfully tacky yet unrefined” and that about sums it up. It’s a no-nonsense chain with universally good bar food, a bevy of domestic beers on tap and, of course, the infamous Hooters waitresses replete with orange short shorts, impossibly firm bodies, and wicked smiles guaranteed to run up your bar tab faster than Andy Dick on a(nother) bender. “Another round? Suurrrrre. We’re not goin’ anywhere.”
Nothing says high class like downing a Land Shark out of a plastic pint glass. But Hooters has been making it work for decades. Tia, the delightfully charming bartender, convinces me to order another so I oblige.
It’s around this time that Brett Favre’s (likely) swan song occurs as the Vikings eat it in overtime, losing to the Saints 31-28. The combined tension and glee around the bar is palpable. It’s the final step to this season’s grand finale in two weeks. Half the folks here are leaving with their heads hanging in shame; the other half are pumped beyond belief. Either way, they’re all headed somewhere else to continue drinking.
A Hazy End at Fat Tuesday
I decide to do Jason proud and round out the night at Fat Tuesday. While I’m at it, why not gild the lily myself and throw an extra shot into my own 190 Octane?
When I was a wee vagabond, no higher than my momma’s knee, she’d take me out for Chicken McNuggets and that curious Orange Punch that could only be found at McDonald’s. I still remember the artificial, syrupy deliciousness of that drink. Evidently somebody else was equally fond of it and wondered, “What if we put this in frozen Slurpee form and add ungodly amounts of flavorless kerosene to it?”
Aside from orange drink mix and grain alcohol, I’m not entirely sure what’s in a 190 Octane. But I imagine a good many first-timers of the drink find themselves in jail the following morning, wondering aloud where their pants and wallet went. It’s the kind of drink that, as Dave Attell would say, “oughta come with bail money.” Yeah, it’s that good.