Best Day Trips in South Florida & Things to Do

South Florida is home to some of the United States' loveliest natural and cultural attractions, including the protected wilderness of famed Everglades National Park and the vibrant, avant-garde nightlife of lively metropolis Miami.

South Florida holds more than sunshine and skyscrapers. Just beyond the buzz of Miami and the hum of highways, you'll find quiet beaches, tangled mangroves, islands that speak in sea breeze, and trails where the only noise is your breath and the birds. Each of these day trips offered me something I didn’t know I needed ... space to think, to drift, to just be. Whether it was the hush of the Everglades or the slow glow of a Captiva sunset, these escapes reminded me that a change in pace can be just as powerful as a change in place.

Best Day Trips in South Florida:

Palm Beach: Gilded Shores & Flavorful Stories

We drove about an hour and a half north from Miami, the highway lined with palms and flashes of ocean, before arriving in Palm Beach. The moment we crossed over the Intracoastal, the pastel buildings and wide boulevards gave the town a polished, timeless feel. I felt like we’d stepped into both a resort and a gallery at once.

For this visit, I wanted to split the day: take in the cultural side of Palm Beach County, wander through the shops and oceanfront, and end with dinner facing the sea.

Walking along Worth Avenue, I thought, “This is where art and leisure live side by side.” The air carried the smell of blooming bougainvillea, fountains trickled in quiet courtyards, and the Atlantic breeze swept in through arched passageways. It felt elegant yet welcoming, the kind of place where every corner had a detail worth noticing.

You can enjoy exploring the Flagler Museum, strolling along white-sand beaches, or venturing into nearby West Palm Beach for live music and markets. The town balances relaxation with a surprising amount of art and history just steps away.

Where To Eat: You can visit Buccan on Palm Beach for small plates full of flavor. I ordered the short rib empanadas—crispy on the outside, savory and tender within—and the smoky aroma made the whole meal linger in memory. Sitting in the airy dining room, I felt the lively energy that defines Palm Beach dining.

A downside? Palm Beach carried higher prices across the board, lodging, meals, even parking. You should plan your budget ahead so you can enjoy the best of it without stress.

Davie: Rustic Trails & Western Echoes

The scent of hay and saddle leather hit me as I stepped out of the car. In Davie, palm trees gave way to paddocks, and I found myself in a version of Florida that still wore its boots. Horses trotted calmly through Tree Tops Park as bikers waved to joggers, and I thought, “This is the Florida people don’t expect, but should.”

Davie didn’t rush. I wandered through the Flamingo Gardens first, where flamingos stood on one leg like sentinels, and the air buzzed with bees and orchids. Later, I drove past ranch houses and feed stores, and watched a group of kids take riding lessons at a local equestrian center, helmets crooked, ponies patient.

What I Loved Most: Walking the shady boardwalks at Tree Tops Park. The sawgrass whispered as I passed, and the air smelled like pine and wet soil. It felt untouched, almost like a secret held in the middle of suburbia.

One challenge? I liked the small-town, Western vibe, but the attractions were pretty spread out. You really need a car here.

Coral Springs: Quiet Paths Beneath the Palms

“This feels like the kind of place you grow into,” I thought as I walked along the shaded trail in Betti Stradling Park, families laughing around picnic tables and kids chasing each other across the splash pad. Coral Springs wasn’t trying to dazzle, it was clean, calm, and quietly lived-in, with wide boulevards and neighborhoods where hibiscus bloomed behind white fences.

I began my morning at the Sawgrass Nature Center & Wildlife Hospital, where rescued owls blinked at me from their perches and turtles sunned themselves beside shallow ponds. It smelled of pine mulch and sun-warmed stone. I kept watching a hawk tilt its head as if studying me. Later, I walked along the paths of the Sherwood Forest Nature Trail, a tiny preserve tucked away in the middle of suburban sprawl, ferns and palms arching overhead like a secret canopy.

What I Loved Most: The way nature and neighborhood wove together, pocket parks, whispering trails, and ponds where ducks coasted like little boats.

My highlights? Lunch at Coral Springs Diner, the kind of local spot where the menu feels like a hug. I ordered the turkey club on toasted rye, stacked tall and layered with crispy bacon and tangy mayo. The dill pickle on the side smelled sharp and fresh, and the fries came out hot and golden. It was simple, satisfying, and exactly right after a walk in the sun.

A downside? On late afternoons, thunderstorms can roll in fast, soaking you completely in minutes.

Sanibel Island: Where Shells Outnumber Footprints

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many seashells in one place,” I thought, crouched barefoot at the edge of the tide.

Sanibel Island truly is a hidden gem for shell collectors. Shells clinked like tiny porcelain cups, catching the light as the waves swept in and out. I loved how natural Sanibel felt. There were no high-rises, no hurry. Just the rhythm of surf, sun, and seabirds overhead.

I spent the morning at Bowman’s Beach. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, and a gentle wind carried the rustle of palm fronds as if even the trees were whispering to keep it quiet here.

Later, I wandered along the trails of the J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge, spotting a roseate spoonbill wading like a blush-pink ghost through the mangroves. The whole place felt like a watercolor painting, soft around the edges, full of light and patience.

What I Loved Most: That feeling of being cradled by nature, barefoot, unbothered, and surrounded by beauty that asked nothing of me except to look.

A downside? The crowds that descend in high season clog up the only road. I also felt the ever-present concern that another storm could cause a lot of damage again.

My highlights? Lunch at Over Easy Café, tucked under a canopy of trees. I ordered the crab cake Benedict, and the first bite hit with the tang of lemon hollandaise and briny sweetness of fresh crab. The English muffin was crisp at the edges, soft in the middle. My plate smelled like citrus and butter, and the outdoor seating was shaded and breezy, exactly what I needed after the beach.

Estero: Cypress Shadows and Coastal Ease

“I didn’t expect it to be this peaceful,” I thought, standing beneath the swaying branches at Koreshan State Park. The wind moved gently through the bamboo and old oaks, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. Estero held a quiet sort of history, strange, serene, and deeply rooted in the land.

I wandered along the shell-lined paths of the old Koreshan settlement, where weathered buildings from the 1890s still stood beneath a canopy of trees. The smell of damp earth and crushed pine lingered in the air. Nearby, the Estero River glinted through the trees, and I watched a paddleboarder drift quietly by, arms moving in slow rhythm with the current.

Later, I made my way to Coconut Point, where palm-lined walkways gave way to small fountains and boutiques. Though it’s a modern development, it didn’t feel loud or rushed, just open-air and easy. I found a bench in the sun and sat watching families stroll by with shopping bags and iced lemonades in hand.

What I Loved Most: That contrast between the mystical hush of the Koreshan site and the soft hum of modern-day Estero. It all flowed together like brackish water, old and new, wild and tidy.

History & Sea Breezes in Fort Lauderdale

“This place feels like sunshine wrapped around a secret.” That’s what I thought while standing outside the Naval Air Station Fort Lauderdale Museum. The city buzzed nearby with boats and brunches, but here it felt hushed, like the air remembered something you didn’t yet know. My husband and I had come to Fort Lauderdale for the weekend to soak up warmth and water, and we found history tucked among the palms.

We started our Saturday with a visit to the Naval Air Station Museum. Housed in an original WWII-era building, the museum felt personal, handwritten logs, faded photographs, and relics from Flight 19. My husband read every display with quiet reverence, while I lingered in front of a weathered flight suit and thought, “This is the kind of story you only hear when you slow down.”

What I Loved Most: That deep contrast between oceanside leisure and the solemn history just a few miles inland, it made the day feel grounded.

A downside? I loved the canals and beaches, but traffic downtown was frustrating. It took longer than expected to get from one attraction to another.

Miami: Color, Wildness, and Quiet Surprises

“The city moved fast, but we didn’t have to.” We started in Wynwood Arts District, where murals stretched taller than rooftops and every block felt like a curated walk through someone else’s imagination. At Laundromat Art Space, we stepped into a studio-gallery hybrid, quiet and sunlit, where artists worked while we wandered. It felt real and alive.

We made our way to Versailles Restaurant in Little Havana. I was eager to eat at "the world's most famous Cuban restaurant." I had arroz con pollo which was savory, aromatic, just right.

Later, we made our way to Overtown Music & Arts Festival. Music poured into the street, jazz, gospel, soul, blending with food trucks and families. It wasn’t touristy. It was joyful. Grounded. Local.

For something completely different, we visited the Zoological Wildlife Foundation. Tucked away from the city’s buzz, it gave us a chance to see endangered species up close. A handler introduced us to a clouded leopard, and I remember thinking how rare it is to feel both awed and humbled like that in one moment.

In the evening, we signed up for Painting with a Twist, not sure what to expect. We left with two canvases, messy hands, and the kind of easy laughter that only comes when no one’s trying too hard. It was simple. And fun.

We stayed at The Betsy South Beach. I enjoyed soft lighting, quiet corners, and books everywhere. It gave us space to rest and remember the day in pieces, not all at once.

On our final night, we ate at Seaspice, where the view over the Miami River glowed with lights from passing boats. I had the truffle risotto; my husband ordered grilled octopus. The food was perfect, but it was the stillness between bites that I’ll remember most.

The only drawback? The energy was unforgettable, but Miami felt busy and loud, even on the beach. My son loved the colors and music, but I sometimes wished for a quieter escape.

Island breezes and ocean stillness in Islamorada

Islamorada offered turquoise water, dockside music, and sunsets that slowed your down. I watched pelicans dive from a bench at the marina, sipping from a coconut with a tiny paper umbrella. I remember thinking, “This is vacation distilled ... no rush, no noise, just salt, sun, and time that drifts like tide.”

What I Loved Most: Wading through the flats at Anne’s Beach, the water barely ankle-deep and shimmering like glass.

My highlights? Fresh snapper sandwich and key lime mojito at Lazy Days Restaurant, toes in the sand, ocean stretching out in every direction. The flavors were bright, clean, and exactly what the day called for.

A downside? We loved the laid-back Keys atmosphere, but activities and restaurants were pricey. For a last-minute trip, it stretched the budget more than we planned.

Stillness and swamps in Big Cypress National Preserve

Big Cypress didn’t feel like a park. It felt like stepping into something older than language, moss hanging low, water quietly holding reflections of trees, and a stillness that wrapped around my shoulders like dusk. I walked a boardwalk trail at first light and watched mist rising off the swamp as if the earth itself was exhaling. I remember thinking, “This isn’t quiet, it’s a kind of listening.”

What I Loved Most: Catching sight of an alligator half-submerged in the water, unmoving, powerful, like the preserve itself.

My highlights? After the walk, I stopped at Joanie’s Blue Crab Café on the Tamiami Trail. Fried gator tail and a slice of homemade Key lime pie , strange, southern, and perfect. I ate with the doors open and the hum of the swamp in the background.

A downside? The mosquitoes were relentless, especially in the warmer months. I found myself wishing I had packed twice as much bug spray.

Air, water, and wild stillness in the Everglades

The Everglades felt like Florida unfiltered, no skyline, no soundtrack, just air and water trading places under an open sky. I took a slow walk on the Anhinga Trail, where alligators sunbathed inches from the boardwalk and herons moved like poetry through the reeds. I remember thinking, “This isn’t danger, it’s presence. Everything here knows its place, and for a while, so did I.”

What I Loved Most: Hearing nothing but the rustle of sawgrass and the low bellow of a distant gator, primal, grounding, unforgettable.

My highlights? A stop at Robert Is Here fruit stand on the way back, a passionfruit milkshake so fresh it tasted like sunshine in a glass, surrounded by peacocks and roosters strutting nearby.

One challenge? The airboat ride thrilled us, but the heat and humidity drained our energy fast. I realized quickly the Everglades are best enjoyed in cooler months.

Conclusion

What stayed with me after each trip wasn’t the postcard view, it was the pause. The trail that opened into a still marsh. The ocean breeze that held me a little longer. The meal that tasted better because I wasn’t in a hurry. In South Florida, the destinations are beautiful, but the journey is what changes you. Sometimes all it takes is one road out of town to feel like you’ve arrived somewhere entirely new, and more connected to yourself.

Welcome to Vacation Idea

Hi there! At Vacation Idea, we've been uncovering and reporting on the best local hidden gems for 27 years. Join us and plan your next authentic and truly unique getaway.