In my world, heaven is a Ritz-Carlton, and I’ve found a slice of divinity here at the Ritz-Carlton Amelia Island, a luxurious 444-room resort on the crashing Atlantic shore. The resort’s Grill is one of only six AAA Five Diamond-rated restaurants in Florida, and the resort also owns a Five Diamond rating for overall excellence, making it one of only 21 resorts nationally to hold two such honors.

Hotel guests have access to the Golf Club of Amelia Island, an elegant and tasteful Mark McCumber design punctuated by a wind-sheared oak forest and five powerful closing holes winding through wetlands. Guests of Summer Beach, an adjacent beachfront condominium property, also share golf privileges.

My next Amelia experience takes me back in time, to 1956 and an era of genuine architectural minimalism. Back then, Fernandina Beach Municipal Golf Club’s short, funky North Course was the only game in town. Three years later, then-head professional Ed Matteson added the brutish 3,683-yard West nine, and another head pro, Tommy Birdsong, designed the South nine in 1972, marking it with deep bunkers and subtle playing angles accentuated by stately trees. A sentimental favorite, Fernandina Beach reminds us that sometimes the soundest strategies are the simplest.

More recently, Royal Amelia Golf Links materialized across the road. This five-year-old Tom Jackson design, set on a small but pristine parcel of land between the Amelia River and the airport, uses indigenous vegetation and continuous changes in direction to keep the wind fresh and the holes isolated, despite their close proximity. The rhythmic routing almost makes me forgive the overdone island green at No. 17.

Over on the mainland is the four-year-old Golf Club of North Hampton, a breezy and brassy Palmer Course Design project. Unapologetic green contours and man-made dunes make the course seem almost roguish, but I suspect it will make the where-to-play lists of golfers visiting Jacksonville for Super Bowl XXXIX.

Speaking of Jacksonville, the bustling dining-and-entertainment complex of Jacksonville Landing is only a short drive away and I contemplate heading there for dinner. But I’m in the mood for local flavor, so I opt to explore the historic town of Fernandina Beach instead. There I learn it’s possible to tarry too long sniffing whiskey at O’Kane’s, a rambunctious Irish pub, or sipping wine and listening to vinyl jazz records at Centre Street Café. In doing so I miss the last seating at a couple of intriguing downtown restaurants—Le Clos, where the French-trained chef serves Provencal dishes, and Beech Street Grill, whose fresh ingredients and award-winning wine list are offered at a romantically restored Victorian home. Neither of these serve particularly late so I have to settle for fish sandwiches at The Surf, a casual patio setting overlooking the beach. Of course I could have skipped dinner entirely in favor of dark liquors at the Palace Saloon, purportedly the oldest drinking establishment in Florida, but that just seemed to be asking for trouble.

The next morning brings checkout time, but even as I cross over to the mainland, my thoughts begin cycling back to Amelia. I’ll recall soft beds and delectable meals, old golf and new, a secret place of seeping light and the steady, soft thunder of the surf.