All around Florida Walkable Vacation Experiences

For All the Bungalows We’ve Ever Loved

November 22, 2018

Last Updated on January 20, 2024 by Marybeth

I’ve said it before – choosing our very favorite place to stay would be almost as astonishingly shocking as admitting one of our kids is our favorite. And truly: we love them all for such different and heart-squeezing reasons, there are no favorites.

Although not too many years ago one of my kids said “Mommy I know I’m your favorite.” Talk about shocking. I was like “Wait, what?” because I KNOW I hadn’t shown favoritism! Ever.

I love my oldest because she was my very first miracle. She made me a mom, I dressed her up (she was so sweetly compliant!) and hauled her around like a doll – hence her nickname, Dolly. I was almost too young to grasp the seriousness of having this amazing and beautiful responsibility. I’d pop her in my convertible and whiz to the beach, strap her in her baby seat and lie back with my eyes closed, my hand firmly wrapped around her ankle so no one could steal her. She’d rub my back for four seconds and then say “That nuf, Mommy?” We’d dance around the living room and jump on the bed, her white-blond hair flipping through the air like angel floss. She’d read to me and I to her, the house around us a shambles of unfolded laundry, sticky floors and mounds of toys just waiting to be scattered again like a pile of leaves. She was – and is – shy and curious and smart and funny and my world was complete.

I love my second because he is my only boy. His siblings later said he looked like an alien at birth but what mom sees that? He soon grew thick curls of strawberry blond (no more alien head) and a gentle, funny way of looking at the world. He didn’t leap into life inviting danger like many little boys; he considered things. Sat on the edge of the pool and dipped one toe, never flinging himself anywhere. He was creative, musical, thoughtful, hilarious. I’d take him into my favorite locally owned boutique, Sand in My Shoes, and he’d patiently let me shop until finally he’d take my face in his hands, turn it toward him, and say “Home, Ba Ba.” (Before he could say Mommy.) We’d jump on the bed and draw highly amusing cartoon strips together that if I could find them they’d probably bring us fame and fortune today. He was – and is – loving and kind and wise and my world was complete.

I love my last because she is my baby. A whirling dervish from the beginning, a friend predicted she’d be the one hanging off of the side of a car crammed with her friends, wearing a tube top and waving goodbye at age 14. It didn’t exactly go that way, but close. She had arresting blue eyes and sandy gold hair and facial expressions that could strike fear or bring joy. We’d jump on the bed, zoom down the carpeted stairs on sleeping bags, talk about boys. Her extreme ability to feel empathy is a blessing and a curse. Everyone fell (falls) in love with her. She was – and is – loyal and funny and rebellious and thoughtful.

My world is complete.

More complete than I ever imagined as I raised those three: I am now a grandmother! Ellis will be four in May.

All this to say that we honestly could never choose a favorite child, parent, friend, or pet. And as absurd as this may sound, the places we choose to lay our tired heads at the end of a busy day exploring a new town feel like more than just four walls, clean sheets and a roof; they take on human qualities. Cute. Bright. Inviting. And the people who created them and run them, the tireless boutique hotel, bed and breakfast, Airbnb, and bungalow owners deserve recognition and the knowledge that we will never choose a favorite.

So here is a roundup of SOME of the cutest, brightest and most inviting bungalows we’ve ever loved. If we’ve forgotten any, please let us know, and also tell us YOUR favorite independently owned place to stay in Florida!

In no particular order (click their name to visit their site):