Exploring the other side of Florida

Wading through a stinking mangrove swamp wasn't what I'd envisaged on my first trip to Florida. But we had deliberately strayed from the traditional tourist trails - and I was about to try my hand at kayaking along the Calusa Blueway's paddling trail.

This unspoilt piece of Gulf coastline is only 140 miles from Orlando. But it is a world away from Disney and the obvious attractions which help lure more than 130,000 of us to Florida every year. Finally clambering into the kayak, with friend Chris "helping" at the front we prepared to set out with instructor Stan - leading eight of us - telling us how easy it was. "It's designed so you can pick it up in five minutes," he told us. "It's also designed so you can't go in the water."

Five minutes later, Chris and I were zig-zagging along the tranquil causeway. And I did go in the water - to untangle us from a bankside tree. As we ploughed on, meandering like a drunk on his way home after closing time, our guides were eager to point out the wildlife, from rare birds to mullet fish. But Chris and I were too busy trying to maintain our balance and attempting to steer to take much of it in.

Half an hour later, though, we had got the hang of it and were steaming ahead along the causeway which stretches 190 miles and attracts kayakers from across the world. As we stopped for a rest Stan was keen to praise us informing us we had been "hauling ass". I was later told that meant: "You were going quite quickly."

It was our introduction to Florida's wilder side and showed the holiday hotspot isn't all about cartoon-fun, white -knuckle rides and acrobatic sea mammals. After our efforts, we headed back to our hotel, the Pink Shell Beach Resort on the fringes of the white-sanded shore.

And we were soon on to the next challenge - trying to eat one of the steaks served up at dinner. I managed it, but with some trouble, but most of our group failed. In fact, every meal served throughout our stay was huge.

Next morning it was off on a nature cruise aboard the Tropic Star boat skippered by a wise-cracking local calling himself "Captain Kirk". At only around $30 (£18) per person for the day exploring some of Fort Myers' 50 miles of white sand beaches the trip was great value.

On the first leg "Captain Kirk" filled us in on the history of the area. Did you know that Thomas Edison - the world's most inventive man with 1,093 patents - spent most of his winters in Fort Myers? Or that the Calusa Indians were the first to discover the charms of the area on Florida's Gulf Coast in 5,000BC? No, thought not. And some of my friends didn't seem too bothered as they snoozed while our captain navigated.

He took us around another mangrove swamp where we got up close and personal with a couple of manatees (sea cows so huge they have to be seen to be believed). I won't pass on the explanation of why we were told not to get in the water.

On most trips dolphins swim alongside the boat and duck and dive under it. We saw a couple, but they seemed more interested in each other than entertaining us. My travelling chums soon woke up though when we pitched up on Cabbage Key - a beautiful, secluded island only accessible by boat, helicopter or seaplane.

The tiny island is stunning. There are no roads - just a number of winding nature trails - and you couldn't feel further away from city life if you tried. We headed for the Cabbage Key restaurant. Its stand-out points were a joke the waiter played on a friend involving a coffee cup, a saucer and a spoon (we laughed, you had to be there) and the signed dollar bills decorating the wall.

That started years ago when a fisherman stopped off there before heading out into the Gulf of Mexico and pinned a dollar bill to the wall so he could spend it on a drink to celebrate his catch later in the day. The tradition continues on a daily basis, so we all joined in after our meal, writing "witty"comments on our bills and signing them. The owners reckon there are $70,000 (£42,000) bills in there and that $10,000 (£6,000) a year fall off, which they donate to charity.

A short hop along the coast is rustic Cayo Costa beach. Marbella it isn't, but beautiful it is. The authorities in Lee County make sure it maintains its unspoilt, secluded feel by only allowing two charter companies to run a limited number of boats there. It feels more Caribbean than America and it is easy to forget where you are.

We were taught to "moonwalk" into the icy sea, so as not to disturb any stingrays, and once we were in it was definitely worth the Michael Jackson impersonation. But when you get back to one of the many - reasonably priced - hotels of Fort Myers you feel back in the U S of A. Especially when you make another attempt at eating a whole portion of food or head to a karaoke bar. I have never seen the "Star Spangled Banner" sung with such gusto... and such a lack of ability.

Our hotel was stunning, set on the white beach and with great facilities for those who like a bit of pampering. So it was a bit of a wrench when we had to leave for the relative civilisation of Tampa, where we checked into the Intercontinental Hotel.

It is brilliantly located for Tampa's attractions - and we visited Busch Gardens where we "enjoyed" a nerveshredding ride on its SheiKra 200ft rollercoaster and had a look round its Out Of Africa-style zoo. Tampa is a shopper's paradise, with most goods selling at around 40 per cent cheaper than in the UK. And just down the road is the wonderfully eclectic neighbourhood of Ybor City - the former centre of cigar production and magnet of all kinds of immigrant communities.