A day off at Daytona is a hard thing to bear.
It’s not the silence from the speedway — the peace and quiet is nice enough, here in the middle of Speedweeks.
The trouble is, today — with the Shootout crowd gone and the larger crowds for the qualifying races and the Daytona 500 still to come — is too strong a reminder of day-to-day Daytona Beach, when the races aren’t in town.
This isn’t exactly Margaritaville down here, and driving up and down the beach highway, A-1-A, is hardly a pleasure cruise. Daytona Beach and its suburbs aren’t exactly boomtowns. They are weary, faded, salt-corroded.
So I’ve drifted back down to the south, to my hotel in Port Orange, to blog with my sliding-glass door open, to see and hear the endless sea, which eases the sadness of workaday Daytona…Â More info
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