I’m often asked, “How do you come up with travel ideas?” There’s no formula. But sometimes, the best adventure is the brainchild of impulse.
For example, I turn to Cindy—who’s ogling her iPhone. “Hey, let’s drive to the gulf for some fresh oysters. What say you?”
“Where? she asks.”
I smile. She’s interested. “Stand by. I’ll get back to you.” I dash upstairs to my desk and pull up a map on my PC. Hmmm, Magnolia Springs near Fairhope and Bon Secour Bay. I think to myself: Isn’t this the place where mail deliveries are still made by boat?
I google further and book a bed and breakfast for the following night—Friday. I shout downstairs to Cindy, “We depart tomorrow morning at about nine.”
Then I search for restaurants and book a table at Jesse’s. B&Bs are hit or miss. The house is nice—lots of old wood. Great scent. But the stairs to our room are steep. Climbing them is a bit of a struggle with our one small bag. Once in the room, ubiquitous notes admonish us at every turn: Don’t Use This Book as a Coaster; Flush This Government-Mandated Toilet Frequently to Avoid Overflows; Use This Towel for Removing Makeup; Caution: Don’t Bump Your Head on the Glass Shelf Over the Sink. And, most annoying, we can hear guests in the adjacent room. Clearly.
This month has an R in it. So, oysters R in season. The weather is magnificent—sunny and cool. We decide to take a neighborhood walk—to work up an appetite. Two tall, blond, attractive ladies are walking our way. One’s pushing a stroller while the other minds a little girl on a scooter. They look like sisters. I suggest as much. The older one rolls her eyes and smiles. “Yeah, sisters,” she says. Fooled me! They offer to take our photograph.

It’s 5:35. We depart for dinner. We’ve heard great things about Jesse’s. If we’ve ever eaten here, I can’t remember when. Seems like we have. Years ago, maybe? Across the street from Jesse’s is the historic St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Earlier, we stopped here, explored, and took pictures. They gave Cindy an inside tour and invited us to come back tomorrow for a concert. But we’ll be heading home before then.

We’re seated at a quaint table for two by a large window overlooking an outside garden. St. Paul’s and Magnolia Springs’ historic meeting house are visible across the way. A toddler, carefully watched by a proud young father, waddles up to the window from the garden side and flirts with us. The table is dressed in white cloth. A candle glows inside a cut-glass vase by the window. Across the table from me sits my beautiful Cindy, juxtaposed in her emerald-green gown against glittering soft lights on a small tree behind her. An old saxophone perches in the corner as if partially roosting in its branches. This suddenly feels like a first date. She’s smiling at me like way back in the days before iPhones. Hers is in the car. Tonight, she’s all mine.
We peruse the menu. My mouth is watering. Our consummate waiter, Clint, steps over and regales us with the storied tale of Jesse King, who worked sixty-plus years without missing a single shift in his uncle’s mercantile store that now houses this restaurant named in his honor. “Jesse was loved in this community. In fact, we have a Jesse King Day in Magnolia Springs. He was always here to help people in this community. Let’s say you were a little down on your luck, he’d say, ‘Don’t worry about the ledger. We’ll deal with that a little bit later.’ He delivered stuff to people, which, in those days, meant a lot. This was where you met up with your friends, got your mail, got your supplies, gossiped about everything that was going on in town—their Facebook, you know, no cell phones—so this place was the heart of Magnolia Springs.”
It’s been years since I’ve had raw oysters. We start with six on the half-shell. Cindy declines after one, so I eat the lion’s share. The sauces and crackers make them delectable. We advance to garden salads—the freshest, most tender we’ve ever had. Not an overstatement. Then comes a melt-in-your-mouth steak filet topped with crab meat for me. Cindy gets ‘divers’ scallops. And we share. Oh! Almost forgot. Bourbon bread pudding for dessert. Delicious!
It’s all so excellent. We’re delighted beyond our best expectations. I recommend Jesse’s without reservation. It’s a bucket-list destination. You will not be disappointed. Ask for Clint. Tell him the Barganiers sent you.
Saturday, we visit some of our favorite shops in Fairhope, like Crown and Colony Antiques. We’ve purchased from them for design clients in the past. They always have exquisite and unique imported pieces that we want to take home. We stroll downtown, through stores, bump into old friends, catch up, and generally enjoy a stress-free, care-free day.

Serendipity strikes when we cruise over toward Point Clear—looking for whatever—and encounter two beautiful ballerinas at Charming Teacup, an English Tea Room. Though it’s quite chilly out, the girls are the sweetest and kind enough to pose for a photo with an old boomer. Photography, of course, was courtesy of the old boomer’s wife—i.e. I’m not in trouble. But these kinds of special acquaintances do sometimes make me wish I was young again. C’est la vie.
Happy New Year! And many blessings to you and yours in 2025.
www.crownandcolony.com
www.jessesrestaurant.com
www.charmingteacup.info