Eccentric Florida: 6 ways to weird out in the Sunshine State
21.07.2023 - 07:50
/ roughguides.com
/ Sunshine State
Pioneers, visionaries, geniuses, crackpots –the Sunshine State has seen more than its fair share of eccentrics over the years, drawn from cooler northern climes in pursuit of their dreams.
Florida’s Gulf Coast may be best known for its relentless sunshine and glorious sandy beaches, but it’s also home to some of the state’s more unusual attractions. Here, Ed Aves picks out some of his favourite curiosities in the sunny southwest.
The humid, mosquito-infested swamps of Estero may seem an unlikely place to build a New Jerusalem, but for Dr Cyrus Teed, founder of the bizarre Koreshan Unity, this Florida backwater was to become the centre of a new civilization.
A one-time alchemist, the messianic, luxuriantly moustachoied Teed had an “illumination” one night in 1869 (sparked by a massive electric shock) and thereafter devoted his life to redeeming humanity, guided by the principles of communal living, celibacy and his esoteric scientific theories.
Some 25 years later, he purchased three hundred acres of uninhabited wilderness and led a merry band of credulous followers down from Chicago to establish Utopia.
Today, the Koreshans are long gone, but you can learn about their beliefs at the Koreshan Historic State Park, which preserves the colony’s scattering of simple two- and three-storey timber buildings.
Central to Koreshan philosophy was Teed’s unique brand of Hollow Earth theory, that the world was effectively inside out with the entire universe contained within it; ranger tours will you into take to the Art Hall, the colony’s cultural hub, where a scale model provides (none-too-convincing) proof.
Life in the nearby Planetary Court was equally revolutionary, for it was in this modest but homely dwelling that the governing council of seven women (each representing a planet) ran the society’s day-to-day business – an adherence to gender equality that suggests that perhaps Teed wasn’t so completely barking after all.
© Stephen Orsillo/Shutterstock
Head a hundred miles north to Sarasota, and you'll find God-fearing, clean-living pioneers of a different sort. Here, the sleepy suburb of Pinecraft is the winter playground of choice for thousands of Amish and Mennonite “snowbirds”, who fly south (or, more correctly, come on the bus) to escape the northern winter.
You’ll see them letting their hair down by playing shuffleboard in leafy Pinecraft Park, riding around on steel tricycles (the traditional horse-buggy combo isn’t very practical for suburban Sarasota) and perhaps dipping a toe in the ocean at Siesta Key.
Local stores sell wooden crafts and home-style dresses (here’s your chance to pick up a copy of Colour the Psalms or a set of Dutch Blitz cards) and head to the Fresh Market for homemade cheese, jam and baked