Florida’s hidden corner with cool hotels and robot butlers (2024)

This might be the worst service I have ever received in a hotel. Johnny looks the part — smart waistcoat, neat tie, polished gold name badge — and his enthusiasm can’t be faulted: “Welcome to the Boca Raton!!” he says. “It’s so good to see you!! How are you today?” But every request, every demand, even, I’m ashamed to admit, every exasperated prod to his smartly waistcoated chest is met with the same blank stare. Finally, after perhaps one prod too many, he announces that he’s “getting ready to move. Bye!”

If only, I think, his programmers had given less of his Ram over to punctuation marks and reserved more for gin-and-tonic-making instructions.

Then again, Johnny doesn’t have any hands. Which I can’t help but think is going to hamper his career as a “robot butler” at the Boca Raton, one of Florida’s finest hotels.

When I’d heard there were two of these droids on the staff roster, I pictured Metal Mickey meets Jeeves by way of Alexa. The reality, sadly, was an R2-D2-sized trundling tabletop — a nice flat tray where his head might have been, and a cheerfully glowing screen where those overexclamatory greetings were displayed. Johnny can, say his human colleagues, navigate his way to whatever room number he’s given without spilling a drop; but I never found out, because the resort has eight pools, and I have two impatient young sons, and the city of Boca Raton offers more exciting things to do than wait in hotel rooms.

That wasn’t always the case. Until very recently the city — three quarters of the way down Florida’s Atlantic coast towards the Caribbean — was a sleepy retirement settlement, all golf carts, condos and those strange, coloured-plastic sun visors beloved by the canasta set. It’s perfectly placed for family holidays, with candy-floss beaches right out front, the Everglades and their Gentle Ben airboat rides only an hour away, and Orlando’s theme parks just close enough for a day trip, though mercifully too far to make a daily habit of. But no families ever holidayed in Boca because the average age of inhabitants was senior-plus, and the city itself more liver spot than hot spot.

Now, though, things are different: Jon Bon Jovi, Adam Sandler and Lionel Messi have bought homes here (separately, sadly); a new-this-year 130mph rail link has made sexy downtown Miami commutable (and evening-outable); urbane new establishments are opening up everywhere (notably a swish new Mandarin Oriental hotel this winter); and, of course, there are those robots, part of a three-year, $200 million, rock-the-boat refurb at the city’s most venerable address, the Boca Raton.

Built in 1925, in the once-trendy, now-dreamily-nostalgic Mediterranean-revival style, the resort is still a grande dame, from the columns of its cloisters to the bow ties of its bartenders. But now that all comes with a knowing nod to its past, a kind of chic retro beach-club glamour rather than an old-school blousiness of brocade and swags. Clearly it’s working for the kind of people who wouldn’t be Instagrammed dead in the wrong joint, as JLo, Shaquille O’Neal, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and the rapper Pitbull have all dropped in. More important, it’s fun.

The resort is spread out across both sides of Lake Boca Raton (actually more like a canal), with a lovely little wooden launch shuttling between them — such an enjoyably easy-breezy way of getting about that I don’t even get annoyed when it turns out (every time) that one of my kids has forgotten a hat and we need to go back. On the ocean side you’ve got warm sea and world-beating sandy beach, with surfboards, SUPs, kayaks and the like — not to mention Polo Ralph Lauren-ad-handsome instructors — for hire. And on the harbour side there’s the brand-new pool club, with wave machine, waterslides and a “lazy river” ride winding so restfully around it all that I could happily have done 50 consecutive laps if I hadn’t had children to look after. (Full disclosure: I did all 50 anyway.)

We ate appallingly well at as many of the resort’s 15-odd restaurants as we could possibly squeeze in (don’t ask me how many; it was a blur of eggs royale with sliced-to-order smoked salmon for breakfast, local swordfish for lunch, filet mignon for dinner), but we somehow discovered our second stomachs (or third?) when we wandered into Plaza Real downtown. There we found It’Sugar, a primary-colours hyper-emporium of candy, where Pepto-Bismol-pink signage gleefully pointed out that the wares were “part of an unbalanced diet”.

Old Boca and new Boca sit literally next door to each other here, a Hearing Aid Center beside the ManCave spa for men or a vegan bakery; an old yacht outfitter above Sugarboo&Co (“Dealer in whimsy”), where those with more credit cards than sense can pick up canvas bags emblazoned with such inspiring words as “The truth about you is that you are magic and love & light”. (I couldn’t find the one that said “. . . and filet mignon”.)

Another day we set out for the Everglades, where we watched a handful of Florida’s million alligators slide malevolently beneath the water as we passed on our airboat tour — then got a closer look at some from behind disconcertingly thin chicken wire at Sawgrass Recreation Park (£44; evergladestours.com). (They lie with their mouths open to keep cool, so you can count every molar, incisor, lung-puncturer and artery-piercer.)

Then, later in the week, we headed north to the Space Coast, the sophistication of Boca Raton fading fast as advertising hoardings alongside the interstate I-95 exhorted me to “Call the aggressive lawyers” and “Be a man — buy land”.

That’s part of the charm, though: the Space Coast is a strip of lovely quiet beaches, small towns, good-value motels and great mom-and-pop restaurants that has grown up around Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral. Time your trip right and you can sit in the sand, drink a beer and watch a rocket launch; time it wrong and you still get to visit the Space Center, which is like Walt Disney World for middle-aged men, like me, who grew up wanting to become astronauts (£60; kennedyspacecenter.com).

There are “simulations” (video games), “experiences” (rides), “encounters” (actual astronauts you can talk to) and lose-yourself-for-hours exhibitions on both the past and future of Nasa’s work. You can touch an actual bit of Moon (surprisingly smooth); walk beneath Saturn V, the world’s tallest rocket (it took me more than a minute, end to end); and feel the utter awe of man’s struggle to see beyond our tiny planet. (Yes, children, you can also find out how people poo in zero gravity.)

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Like all the best museums, though, Kennedy shows you something you can only truly appreciate through observing it at close quarters — in this case seeing just how rackety and low-tech and everyday exploring the final frontier can be. On a computer salvaged from a Space Shuttle, a label gives astronauts the protocol on what to do in case it should malfunction — instructions that will be eerily familiar to anyone who has ever phoned a tech-support helpline: “pwr-off (5 sec), then on”.

That made me pause a while in thought. And then wonder if it might work on Johnny.

Ed Grenby was a guest of Visit Florida (visitflorida.com), the Boca Raton, which has room-only doubles from £335 (thebocaraton.com), and Elegant Resorts, which has seven nights’ B&B at the Boca Raton from £1,848pp, including flights (elegantresorts.co.uk)

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Two more family-friendly Florida resorts

By Richard Mellor

1. Naples
Thirty miles further down the Gulf Coast from Fort Myers Beach, Naples used to be the preserve of golf-loving retirees. Many young families have now moved in, tempted perhaps by protected beaches that aren’t, for once, crowded with resorts and condos. Often bathed in ample sunshine even in January, Naples also makes a fine base for cruises to see alligators in the Everglades or manatees just out to sea. With its sunset terraces and a spa, the seafront Ritz-Carlton resort merits the expense.
Details Room-only family doubles from £832 (ritzcarlton.com). Fly to Miami

2. Amelia Island
The northernmost barrier island on Florida’s east coast, Amelia is ringed by 13 miles of powdery beaches, which leaves space for everyone to ride, surf, cycle along plentiful trails or sign up to ride electric skateboards (£26pp, ameliaislandboardrental.com). Other visitors might paddle up bird-rich creeks or cruise to Cumberland Island, across the state border in Georgia, in search of its wild horses. Two blocks from the sand at Fernandina Beach, the Residence Inn has good, large rooms.
Details B&B family doubles from £174 (marriott.com). Fly to Orlando

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