By: Caroline Kambrich
Going to Marco Island, Florida, for Christmas has been a lifelong tradition for my family. It all started back in 1991 when I was born. My parents needed a getaway and booked the trip with my mom’s parents. Flash forward to today, five families, seven grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren are in attendance. Every time I cross the bridge into Marco, I feel like I am home. The drive down Collier Boulevard is so nostalgic.
I remember when I was little, we would sometimes drive down instead of fly, and whenever we reached the bridge, we would all lean out the window and scream with elation that we had finally made it. Those car rides with my little sister were no joke, somehow my parents made it through. We would always stay at the Gulf View on Collier Boulevard, but after multiple rough hurricane seasons, she’s sadly on her last leg. My parents decided to buy a permanent place at The Anchorage, and that has been our home away from home ever since.
Ever since I had my son, Colton, Marco has held a new place in my heart, where I get to create the memories I had as a child for my very own child. Watching him run down the same beach I played on as a kid, devouring a giant pickle from the pickle bucket at Snook Inn (the most elite salad bar you will ever experience), or ripping into a big, buttery garlic knot at Joey’s Pizza brings me so much joy.
I often think about what my perfect day in Marco would look like: wake up and go to Doreen’s for their fresh-squeezed OJ and their croissant French toast. Then walk it off on the way back to the condo, where we all get ready to go to the beach. A staple sandwich that my sister and I always bring to the beach is a salami sandwich with Swiss cheese, a little mayo, mustard, or both, on thin seeded bread, with Doritos on the side. It 100% hits the spot on a breezy beach day.
After some time on the beach, we’re always still a little hungry after lunch, so we walk to the end of Tigertail Beach and go to this chicken finger spot with a park. I’m sure this establishment has a name, but we’ve always just called it “the chicken finger spot.” A post-beach nap is thrown in there somewhere, and then we get ready to go out to either The Snook Inn (my favorite) or Joey’s Pizza. You can’t end the night without a cousin night walk on the beach. After dinner, my mom and sister would gather all the younger cousins to go out to the beach for a night walk, it was a great way for the kids to get their energy out before bed, especially the boys.
These past few years have been so different. With the passing of my grandfather, the leader of our Marco pack, the moments we all shared as a family just haven’t been the same. Shared laughs at our beach sunset happy hours, his traditional Brandy Alexander toasts, and conversations that filled the air with warmth, love, and a lot of sports talk are deeply missed. With most of the cousins now adults, the youthful cackles and chaotic energy that once filled the air have dissipated. However, now that my sister and I have children of our own, we’re confident that the energy will soon be shifting at our family gatherings.
This trip is so important to our family. We’re spread all over the U.S. and don’t have the opportunity to see each other often, so it’s a comfort knowing this tradition is set in stone every year. The role of the “parentals” has shifted, where our parents were once the organizers, now we, the grandkids, are taking over, starting a whole new chapter with our own children. It brings me such joy knowing that we are creating a new set of memories for all of us to be a part of. No matter what the new year brings, we know we’ll always reunite in Marco Island, Florida.
Tracking: 821903-1