Today was a special day for me. For the first (and hopefully only) time I have been to a Walmart.

It’s big enough that it has different entrances depending what you want to buy. I just wanted to see what was in there so ended up traversing the whole store anyway.

I went in to buy cheap drinking water with a side option of cheap nasty shirts. I left with a dozen bottles of water and three shirts that cost $17 each. Without commenting on whether they’re also nasty the washing tag inside states “Cold wash only. Drip dry. No dry cleaning” which doesn’t bode well for longevity. They’re 60% linen 40% cotton though so that must count for something?

Walmart was pretty close to the end of the day for me. I’d started with coffee, the free continental breakfast holding little interest, other than noting that continental in the US appears to mean a choice from three breakfast cereals and/or toast.

The coffee was fresh, so fresh that I had to wait five minutes for it to finish brewing. It was ok, and I had a chance to read email while I waited.

My main quest for the day was to find an alligator and photograph it. I headed out through Homestead, a town so tightly coupled to Florida City that I can’t tell where one ends and the other starts.

Florida City has the highest crime rate in the state, close to the highest in the country. I’m not sure about the crime rate in Homestead but so you can get a feel for the town I took a photograph of their main street, making sure to include the shop on the right.

Yeah, that’s America.

The drive through the Everglades was surprisingly dull. The road was flat, straight, stupidly slow, boring. The scenery was mostly lacking, just stunted trees or reed beds, stretches of canal, drainage gates, people fishing. There were a lot of people fishing, mostly men but some couples, a few family groups. I didn’t spot any solo women with a rod.

There were a lot of birds fishing too and what may have been vultures circling overhead. Pretty ones, feathers on their necks making them more ordinary birds of prey than the scraggy ones in Africa.

I saw an alligator in a canal, floating motionless. I didn’t stop, didn’t photograph it. A few miles later I spotted a sign for a park that I’d considered visiting while planning and booking hotels. I’d forgotten about it but decided to pop in for a look anyway.

I’m glad I did. They had a 15 mile circuit designed for cyclists or a small tram with a $25 fee, or you could walk if you were silly. The US Government budget issues meant the park was unattended and the trams weren’t running so I decided to walk a small way up, view the otter holes, walk back. This gave me a chance to get away from the road and see actual Everglades, full on swamp, water and hopefully alligators.

Parking my car properly I felt like a stranger in a broken world.

I only walked a mile from the car but it felt further, well over an hour to get there and back. This is because I got distracted.

The otter holes were interesting. Holes in the limestone below, water visible through them, suggesting the rock was a thin layer above a shallow pond. No otters though, and the track to get to them wasn’t great either.

I didn’t care. By the time I reached them I’d already had to step away from the edge of the path to avoid disturbing the wildlife. To demonstrate how close to the path the nature starts I took a photograph, included my shadow as proof I was there.

I found the turtles far cuter. They were also basking in the sun, one just a couple of yards from that reptile, but I also enjoyed watching a few swim through the clear water, one stopping to feed.

The fish are easily visible too, various varieties often appearing as ‘brown fish shaped fish’ but the occasional flash of colour, suggesting a rainbow bass. The Florida Gar are easily spotted, lying near the surface, smaller similar shaped fish also easily seen with yellow patterns on their bodies, possibly younger gar or maybe another species.

Best were the birds, a whole range of types. My favourites were the anhinga, beautifully photogenic in multiple ways. They’re easily spotted on the upper branches of the small trees, wings spread to catch the sun, drying off or warming up, maybe both.

They need to dry off because they land in the water, their bodies immediately submerging, no flotation at all. They then duck their heads under too and start looking around then swim along, covering 5-15 feet without a breath.

There’ll be a flurry of ripples, a splash as a small shoal of fish flee the bird then a triumphant head rises from the water, a fish futilely wriggling in its beak. Another ten foot swim to find a spot shallow enough to jump out, then the bird hops onto a tree branch and sits there, twisting its neck to beat the fish against the tree.

A couple of minutes of piscine abuse and the head will raise, the sharp pointed beak almost vertical then opening wide, gravity assuring the newly released fish will drop straight into the gullet. The long slim neck bulges as the fish passes down it.

(Checking photos from my main camera, the bird’s very clearly stabbed the fish to catch it, beak poking through the body. In related news, I’m seriously chuffed with the photos I took today.)

A few minutes later, chatting to a man compensating for something, he cursed as a small bird he was trying to photograph took off in a hurry, splashing and disturbance where it’d left. “Oh, I see why,” he then said in delight, as another anhinga emerged from the water with a fish quite blatantly too large to eat in its beak.

I took a couple of the bird physically abusing the poor fish then set my camera to sequential mode. 200 photographs later the bird’s neck was horribly distended before the fish finally made it down, and the bird sat there on a branch looking very obviously proud and delighted by its achievement.

Later a third bird with a catfish dropped it while trying to stun it, making the woman stood by me laugh. Four seconds and a quick dip in the pool later the bird was resuming its tenderising of the meal it would still get to enjoy.

So if you’re a bird watcher, go to Florida. They’re not as colourful or cute as the toucans in Colombia but it’s a full on nature experience, in the wild, with bonus alligators. And turtles.

Apparently also with panthers. Proper furry cats that weigh 60kg rather than the paltry 6kg my biggest weighs. They’d probably try and eat her too.

I didn’t see any, just the signs warning that they might try crossing the road and haven’t been taught the green cross code. By then I was in the cypress forest, silvery trees with no leaves.

Lunch was in Everglade City, a tiny hamlet with a cafe selling ‘gator’ wraps and tacos. Apparently ‘alligator’ is too hard to spell. I decided alligators qualify as aquatic lifeforms and so can’t be eaten, chose the meatball sub for lunch instead.

By half-twelve I was headed back and, having had a change of plan for tomorrow, included a chunk of that itinerary too. That took me to a town called Flamingo that seems to consist of boat ramps and a campsite. There’s a view of the sea there too, it’s the southern tip of the Everglades. I didn’t see any flamingos there but the few buildings were painted pink.

After stopping at Walmart I dropped the car at the hotel and walked to Texas for dinner.

Everything I know about road houses I learned from Patrick Swayze so I swashbuckled my way in only to find a small lady asking if I’d like to sit at the bar. I replied that anywhere would be fine, I had my book with me and, just like everybody else in Florida, she both misheard me and instead of clarifying just used her own interpretation of what she hoped I’d said. In this case it meant she told someone to take me to a booth, a british ‘k’ apparently mimicking the southern US ‘th’.

The menu was sensibly priced and didn’t disgrace the Texan name on the building. I went for the chicken and sirloin.

The chicken was just a nice bit of chicken but the sirloin was a better steak than I’ve had on any of the cruise ships. The local beer is sadly terrible so next time it’ll just be coffee.

Halfway through eating the music got louder and some obnoxious woman with an unattractively fat bottom started gyrating and clapping next to me. I looked and realised that all of the staff had started to do a line dance to the music, and were all now clapping as part of the dance. I put fingers in my ears, glared at the woman beside me, waited until they finished before continuing my meal.

A few minutes later a manager was walking past, checking every table. “Is everything ok for you sir?”

“Yes, apart from the idiot that started to dance and clap next to me.”

He stopped at that, looked confused, asked, “Sorry?”

I repeated it, word for word. Held eye contact with him while he looked even more confused, this time because he’d understood what I said. I broke eye contact, turned to my food and started cutting the steak.

“Oh. Umm. Apart from that is everything ok?”

Sure, apart from your entire staff pissing me off, everything is fine. But I think I’d already made that point so merely responded with a yes.

Only 6km walked today but a lot of time driving.

I did while passing through Homestead midway through the day stop for fuel. It cost me $15 for over half a tank.

Tonight’s hotel smells of stale cigarettes. Not happy about that. I’d had a visit from the cleaners, they took the towels I’d used (despite me hanging them on my washing line to dry) and left new ones on the bed.