Ray Sarracino of the Lee County Visitor & Convention Bureau is showing me around downtown Fort Myers.
It is a pastel-coloured city sitting on the Caloosahatchee River, a giant waterway which runs into the Gulf of Mexico – or Gulf of America depending on your political persuasion since President Trump’s recent order to rename it.
“This was a cow town, imagine the saloon doors swinging, the dusty streets and imagine the smell, boy, the smell,” he says. “Thankfully it’s a bit tidier nowadays.”
I am struck by the lack of big brand chains, apart from the odd famous coffee shop as I walk down the palm tree-lined streets,.
They are, instead, full of independent restaurants and bars, a long way from the cliche of corporate America.
Along the main street, the city’s heritage stands tall with the old bank building on one side, followed by the faux-classical grandeur of the old post office, a giant pillared building which is now an arts centre.
At this end of town previously stood the fort that was built by the US military in 1850, to protect against the Seminole Indians during one of the longest and deadliest conflicts in American history.
Ray takes me to one of the newest ventures in town, the Swamp Cat craft brewery. It recently opened in an unused church thanks to the enthusiasm of ex-navy officer Chris Gutierrez.
Sipping a pint of his most popular brew, Sun Coast West Coast IPA, Chris tells me: “I started making my own beer and I became addicted.
“We have started small but hopefully we will start supplying other bars, then other cities, then the whole country, maybe, but we will focus on what we know best – the beer.”
Later, after a trip down the vast river with Off The Leash Charters, we pull up at the waterfront Oxbow diner for a dinner of local oysters and shrimp salad. Afterwards, we head for a cocktail at the Beacon Social Drinkery, the rooftop bar of the Luminary Hotel, where we watch the golden sun set next to one of the vast bridges crossing the river.
The hotel is dedicated to distinguished figures in the history of Fort Myers, and for breakfast I head to the Ella Mae’s Diner, which has been named in honour of the 19th century philanthropist who made her money by running a bottling company.
On asking for the banana pancakes, the waitress suggests I take just one because of the portion size. When it arrives, filling an entire plate, I’m glad I took her advice.
Suitably fuelled, I head out to Sanibel and Captiva, a pair of islands ringed with white sand beaches and scattered with beautiful shells – which has earned Sanibel the title of seashell capital of the world, which is celebrated with the National Seashell Museum.
I soon learn to tell the difference between the elongated lightning whelk and the spikier Florida fighting conch, before I tentatively dip my hand into the water of a row of tanks to stroke a moss-covered shell – in the strangest petting zoo that I have ever come across.
I have another chance before lunch to get close to nature as I take a kayak tour of the mangroves with my extremely knowledgeable guide Braden Wood, of Adventure Sea Kayak Tours based at the ‘Tween Waters Inn on Captiva.
I paddle out from the shore on the gentle water of the marina and Braden calls out: “Are there any manatees there?”
Unfortunately I cannot see any of these delightful cows of the sea which love to hang around boardwalks and warm water spots of the Florida coast. But just a few hundred metres later I spot a spurt of water from inside a private harbour.
I paddle as far as I can go and get a glimpse of a snout coming up for air before disappearing again as Braden explains that a manatee, which eats a tenth of its bodyweight in sea grass each day, can stay underwater for 20 minutes from a single breath.
I follow Braden as he pulls up next to a stretch of tangled mangrove branches. Here, he reaches into the water and pulls out a rugby-ball-sized queen conch and explains to me that visitors can take any shell home, as long as there is no living clam inside.
After washing it and giving it a shake, he appears convinced it is empty, but as he hands it to me, I spot the claw of a small crab that gradually gains courage and shows itself before suddenly jumping into the water.
Returning to the marina is a slightly tough task against the current, but is rewarded with the chance of having dinner with Tony Lapi, the 78-year-old gregarious owner of the ‘Tween Waters Inn.
He describes how the whole area is still recovering from Hurricane Ian, a category four storm that occurred in September 2022, leaving Fort Myers and the islands totally wrecked, with many hotels, homes and businesses still in the process of rebuilding and reopening.
He says: “I have been here 50 years and storm after storm has hit us, but we pick up the pieces and keep going because we love it here so much.”
The following morning, Ray joins me again for a cruise to Cabbage Key, a small island which the Rinehart family bought and made their “island dream” home in 1936.
As we set off on another cloudless blue-skied morning, Ray says to me: “You’re looking at 300 beautiful sunny days a year, that’s why people come down here: it’s sunny, it’s crisp, it’s beautiful.”
Half-way through the journey, whoops of excitement erupt from the upper deck and the captain announces a pod of dolphins has joined us. I rush to the side as I see one of the Atlantic bottlenose dolphin launch itself into the air with a flamboyant twirl.
We arrive at the island with its handful of white-washed wooden buildings looked over by a water tower, and head to the Dollar Bill Bar which gained its name from the thousands of bank notes taped to the ceiling, walls and pillars.
Ray explains the tradition started with fishermen sticking up a dollar with their name scribbled on it when they had a good catch, so it could pay for a drink when they fell on hard times.
He adds: “Now it’s just the biggest scam in town – I’m joking.”
After our return journey, which happily is accompanied once again by dolphins, I head to the Sundial Beach Resort, which has blocks of condominiums based around the main hotel building with its swimming pools, pickle-ball and tennis courts.
In front of the resort is a mile-long stretch of white sand beach, which does not just attract human tourists but also loggerhead turtles, which return every year to lay their eggs.
Taking an early morning walk, I take a look at one of the areas of fencing set up by the resort staff to protect the nesting sites and spot the trails where a turtle has wandered down to the sea.
As I head into the warm, calm water for a dip myself under the perfect blue sky, it becomes clear to me why the turtles come back each year – I could be very tempted myself.
How to plan your trip
Rooms at the The Luminary Hotel, Fort Myers (luminaryhotel.com) start from $US195/£144. Rooms at the Sundial Beach Resort & Spa (sundialresort.com) start from $US250.
BA and Virgin fly direct from London to Tampa, a 2.5 hour drive from Fort Myers.
For more information on the destination, go to visitfortmyers.com.
