Camping at John Prince: Welcoming 2025
Travel Stories Series #3
We made it again this year to John Prince for our two-week retreat between Christmas and New Year. Last year’s beautiful visit was captured in this post: Camping Moments. Many of those moments did warm up the many cold nights that followed, and we’re excited to create new memories this year — it certainly didn’t disappoint.
When my sister asked, “Why do you go to the same place year after year?” I had to smile. The weather is one big reason. The subtropical temperatures provide a refreshing escape from the winter grind. This year, we literally dodged a winter freeze: the day we arrived, the temperature back home dropped below freezing, while here we enjoyed a balmy 70–80°F. Roger often says that when he used to live in Connecticut, he’d “crawl on his hands and knees to Florida” as therapy for his sunshine deficiency.
The second reason is personal: this is Roger’s old stomping ground, his “second home.” His grandparents were part of the early wave of snowbirds, buying second homes and retiring in Florida to enjoy their golden years in the Sunshine State. For Roger, wintering in Florida feels instinctual, like a snowbird migration encoded in his DNA. As he often says, “Between Thanksgiving and Easter, there’s no better place to be.” His local knowledge has not only enriched our experiences but also helped many fellow campers, leading to some truly heartwarming stories.
Most importantly, John Prince never fails to nurture and ground me. Its rich tapestry of nature, people, architecture, and activities creates cherished memories every time. I think of it as an “urban oasis.” Nestled in Palm Beach County — home to Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago, famously known as the “Winter White House,” and some of the world’s most opulent real estate — John Prince Campground offers a refreshing and accessible escape.
As a county park, it provides affordable camping rates while offering easy access to urban conveniences, popular attractions, and stunning beaches that draw thousands of visitors daily. What’s more, the park itself is open to the public free of charge, serving as a much needed respite for locals and travelers alike.
For me, it’s this unique balance — a sanctuary that both grounds and inspires — that keeps us returning year after year.
Despite being on vacation, my days feel delightfully full. Each morning begins with walking Sadie under the melody of birdsong if the sun graces us, followed by a leisurely breakfast. The rest of the morning is spent immersed in either embroidery — a new hobby I’ve recently taken up — or revisiting my journals from the past year and writing on topics I love. Lunchtime comes with the joy of cooking, often followed by a luxurious nap that feels utterly restorative after the work responsibilities that drained me before this trip. Afternoons are a mix of repeating morning activities or joining Roger in his favorite pastime, “cruising the boulevard.”
When we venture out, we often take the A1A coastal route to admire the ocean and the magnificent architecture of some of the finest beach front homes in the world. I must confess, the emerald-green waters of the Florida coast remain among the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. We stop at our favorite beaches for long walks, treat ourselves to ice cream from Roger’s favorite spot, The Ice Cream Club, and finish with either grocery shopping or dining at beloved or newly discovered restaurants, alone or with friends. Evenings are quiet and nurturing: reading, writing, watching a movie, or enjoying a campfire under the stars. Every part of this routine feels deeply restorative, not just for me personally but for our relationship as well.
One of our favorite activities here is biking the 10-mile paved trail, a journey that takes one to two hours depending on how many stops we make. This year, most of our rides have been at dusk, allowing us to savor my favorite time of day in an immersive way.
The trail is brimming with life. Given the holiday season, the park is buzzing with families, friends, and activities: young people playing soccer on the grass, some in the classic “shirts and skins” style; parents guiding their children on their first bikes; and bikers and scooter riders zipping past, most with a friendly wave. Lovers hold hands, and families gather for meals — some with takeout, others grilling on the park’s provided barbecues. Large families or community groups sometimes even bring food trucks. Celebrations are everywhere, especially at the park’s three pavilions, decorated for birthdays, church gatherings, or seasonal festivities like Christmas and New Year. The air is filled with music, laughter, and the hum of countless conversations.
The park’s energy reminds me of a beehive: people weaving in and out, engaged in countless activities, creating a dynamic pulse of human connection. It brings to mind the bees busy collecting nectar at the South Carolina Botanical Garden when we visited last spring, at the height of nature’s bloom.
As a language enthusiast, I’ve been captivated by the linguistic diversity here. Spanish dominates the bike trail, reflecting the influence of South American population, while French is often heard in the campground, thanks to the many Canadian snowbirds who spend their winters here. This cultural richness is a key part of the charm of this place.
The natural beauty of John Prince Park is equally enchanting. I’ve never seen so many kinds of ducks, lounging leisurely on the grass until Roger’s bike disturbs their peace, prompting them to waddle and quack in a way that always brings a smile to my face. The anhingas, or “snake birds,” alternate between swimming for dinner and drying their wings on the shore. By dusk, the iguanas have already packed in for the night — a necessity for their cold-blooded survival. I’m reminded of two years ago when a sudden temperature drop caused “iguana snow,” with frozen iguanas literally falling from trees.
One of the most fascinating sights on the trail is the clusters of tall grass at the water’s edge, home to countless birds. As dusk falls, these birds create a cacophony of sounds — flapping wings and songs that seem like a last burst of energy before settling in for the night, much like children at play before bedtime. Watching them fight for the best spot to rest is both amusing and heartwarming. Their morning songs are a comforting promise of a new day, and with that assurance, Roger and I return home to settle in as well.
The bike rides on New Year’s Day and on Christmas day were particularly memorable.
On Christmas Day, we stopped at a small park near the end of our route, our usual resting spot before the final stretch. That day, we befriended a little squirrel, whom we lovingly named “Squirley.” By chance, I had some pecans with me — Christmas gifts from our next-door neighbors — and we decided to “make it a special day for her” by offering her a treat.
What a delightful show she put on for us! In true squirrel fashion, she was both drawn to the pecans and hesitant to approach. Her cautious investigation was a mix of climbing up and down the tree, darting across the lawn, and inching closer by testing the boundaries of the bench. When she finally gathered enough courage to grab the pecan, her joy in savoring it was utterly endearing. “When was the last time I enjoyed something as simple as this?” I wondered. What a reminder of the simple pleasures of life.
We repeated the process three times, offering her three nuts, and left a fourth behind for her as we set off to complete our trail. The playful interaction left us both smiling and invigorated.
On New Year’s Day, the end of our bike ride was graced by the crescent moon. The scene of palm trees silhouetted against the night sky, adorned by the delicate moon, with its twin reflection shimmering on the mirror-like lake, was unforgettable. “When the next crescent moon appears, it will be Chinese New Year,” I thought to myself. It was a moment of pure harmony, where I felt completely lost in time and space.
On New Year’s Day, we had another pleasant encounter, this time with a custom-built German camper. When it first pulled up as we were preparing lunch, we initially mistook the sound of its powerful diesel engine for a dump truck collecting trash. But when we saw it backing into the space next to us, Roger was immediately intrigued. He spent a good amount of time talking with the owners and later learned more about it through the company’s website that built it. It’s called Project Hugo, a retired fire engine from 1991 that was completely customized to meet this family’s needs, a German family with five children.
While the design and build intrigued Roger, what struck me the most was the “out-of-the-box thinking” behind this camper. While we are shopping for our next camper, choosing from the available options in the market, this family thought: “Why not buy a fire engine, design a plan, and have a company custom-build it for us?” While we are planning our next camping trip within the drivable radius of our home, this family thought: “Why not ship our camper across the Atlantic and take a six-month trip across the United States?” While many families are considering educational opportunities for their children through various agencies, these parents brought all five of them on a six-month camping journey across an entirely different continent. It’s like a “semester at sea” experience, possibly even better in many ways.
Life is full of surprising possibilities, and this surprise neighbor at our usual spot certainly opened my eyes to them once more. And yes, surprises are certainly another reason why we enjoy camping at John Prince!
