Delray Beach

You keep asking: why Delray Beach? And so I’ll tell you…

Without question one of Moi favorite getaway spots is Delray Beach, Florida. A charming little coastal village on the Atlantic shore, halfway between Palm Beach and Boca Raton, Delray attracts a wide range of visitors from the decidedly seniors-trying-to-be-forever-young to families with young children to singles looking for a hotspot north of South Beach.

This is my SoFlo for the past 6 years. While living in Europe TBG and I decided we needed a US home-base, and we Northerners decided it should be Florida, with easy international access through Miami (though my personal experiences with MIA ranks it one of the world’s worst airports), and easy connections to the rest of the US. For nearly a decade one of us had a business trip to Florida in February, most frequently Naples or Palm Beach. We had been to Disney too many times and wanted nothing to do with Orlando. My brother and his family lived near Daytona. Puppy friendly, golf, sunshine, water and year-round warm weather were the requirements.

Then fate and a casual conversation intervened. I was headed for a week-long stay in Boca to search the area for potential. And one of my Paris bffs, now my Berlin bff The Antiques Diva, was reading one of her stacks of travel magazines, and tore out and presented me with a short article on Delray Beach, with a photograph of an oh-so-charming Colony Hotel.

I landed in NJ and was preparing for my flight to SoFlo when Hurricane Ivan struck. My flight was canceled by the airline. My hotel reservations were canceled so area residents could find refuge. SoFlo house-hunting was off.

But then, just as suddently rescheduled for a short 36 hour visit before my return flight to Europe, and the upcoming Hurricane Jeanne. Street lights weren’t working. ATMs weren’t working. Ice was in high demand. But down I went, and the realtor gave me an abbreviated tour of the Boca area, with a quick drive through Delray. Electrical wires snaked in nearly deserted streets: businesses were closed, and residents were home managing the storm damages. But Starbucks was open, and with a frappuccino in hand, on a gorgeously sunny warm day, I first cruised Atlantic Avenue in Delray Beach. It was love at first sight.

Saw a few houses and condos, nothing appealed, or it was out of our price-range. Then we drove by the iron gates of a community that sat on the Intracoastal Waterway. The gates were locked, and the electricity was out so they couldn’t be opened. No one was in the office. Disaster and destiny intervened, and I flew back to Europe without a look.

But once home I quickly got on the internet and tracked down some properties for sale in the gated community. And knew Delray Beach was to become our US home.

A few months later TBG was back in the US on business, and took a quick weekend trip to SoFlo. The realtor showed him around Delray, and through those iron gates.

We were on the phone for 3 hours wracking up international long distance cell phone bills, but 3 months later we moved our US household, locked up in storage for over 6 years, behind those gates.

And then…