To anyone unfamiliar with Panama City Beach, it is a quirky blend of the kitchy, the wierd, the obscene, and the down-home. It's on a beautiful stretch of Gulf Coast, known as the Emerald Coast and affectionately, as the Redneck Riviera. It may have the whitest sand I have ever seen.
Front Beach Road combines the nightmare of endless high-rise condominiums with the heaven of a spring break paradise. Shoppers in flip-flops walk in and out of storefronts via whale bones as frequently as through doors, under the hulking shadow of mile-high steel and glass. Just off the main drag was the Treasure Ship restaurant.
Amidst 20 ft. tall oxen statues, dinosaur replicas and buildings shaped after the sinking Titanic, the Treasure Ship restaurant stood out as an icon in a city of icons. A replica of a pirate ship, for 30 years it served food to locals and visitors and employed 200 people. Sadly, it recently suffered the same fiery fate as the Steilacoom Marina, with no plans to reopen. For anyone who loved the odd character of Panama City Beach, the Treasure Ship is a great loss.
I just hope they don't replace it with a high-rise.
