For many people, vacations are a chance to forget the day-to-day. That means exercise regimens are left behind with the laundry and the dirty dishes.

But for others, like Nate, exercise is more than something done to ward off love handles. Much to my bewilderment, he believes that an enjoyable vacation must include some amount of physical exertion.

Kara, on the other hand, is more comfortable with animals grilled medium rare, covered in sautéed mushrooms. Perspiring while on vacation is acceptable in the context of jasmine-scented steam rooms; sore muscles are an unavoidable consequence of massage.

Thus, pairing a charming bed and breakfast with a bicycling weekend seemed a perfect balance.

The scent of fresh-baked cookies wafting through the Mansion House Bed & Breakfast in St. Petersburg was delightfully familiar. Built around 1900 by St. Petersburg's first mayor, the stately Mansion House run by Peter and Kathy Plautz has hosted everyone from Kevin Bacon and Clyde Butcher to athletes from around the globe.

From our room with its four-poster bed, we were a short stroll from downtown's Baywalk, an open-air dining and entertainment complex. Over bruschetta and Pinot Grigio at Gratzzi, we discussed why Kara prefers culture to creatures.

Later, we headed to the Clearwater Jazz Festival, one of the Southeast's largest music festivals, catching enough of Paquito D'Rivera and New York Voices for me to drive Kara crazy imitating (poorly) the catchy, freestyle singing during our drive back to the Mansion House.
Rather than continuing on the trail, Nate and I decided to loop back to Dunedin and drive north to explore Tarpon Springs. We ended up biking 15 miles in all - still enough to burn off breakfast and warrant a huge Greek meal.

I ate like a triathlete the next morning - organic granola, cinnamon and vanilla-flavored yogurt, a Southwest egg soufflé, turkey, ham and a homemade raisin scone.

With plans to bike a 30-mile section of the Pinellas Trail, which stretches from St. Petersburg to Tarpon Springs, I needed every calorie.

Nate and I rented cruisers from the Pinellas Trail Bicycles and picked up the trail in charming downtown Dunedin.

We detoured into lovely Hammock Park, where we biked over wooden boardwalks and along creeks to a small gazebo perfect for spotting herons.

Back on the trail, we rode along the beach to Honeymoon Island State Park, taking a break to try out a beachfront wooden swing made for two.

Rather than continuing on the trail, Nate and I decided to loop back to Dunedin and drive north to explore Tarpon Springs. We ended up biking 15 miles in all - still enough to burn off breakfast and warrant a huge Greek meal.

Tarpon Springs, with its sponge docks and white-and-blue buildings, truly resembles a Greek fishing village. We feasted on Greek salads and lamb shanks at the family-owned Mykonos.

Nearby, a clerk selling scented olive oil soaps told us that, besides her grandmother's kitchen, the best place for baklava is the National Bakery, next to the coffee shop where locals play dominoes.

We never thought we'd eat again, but the evening found us on the Starlite Princess dinner cruise. Nate and I sipped wine and checked out bayfront mansions, relaxing under the fine mist coming off the paddlewheel.

Next morning, after blueberry pancakes, Kara and I walked downtown to the Pier's waterfront shops and restaurants.

Wheels of Fun provided a surrey bike - a pedal-powered rickshaw where you sit side-by-side, steer with a wheel and feel like the quintessential tourist.

Kara enjoyed jealous looks from the women we passed, while I ducked corresponding looks of compassion from husbands and boyfriends as our bell - the vehicle's horn - rang sanctimoniously whenever we hit a bump.

Having satisfied Kara's whim, we headed to Fort DeSoto, a county park boasting seven miles of beaches on five islands. Procuring cruisers from Canoe Outpost, we pedaled past the ruined fort and mangrove-dotted backwaters, stopping to view the majestic Sunshine Skyway bridge.

As daylight faded, we cruised to Pass-A-Grille for a cold beer and some freshly caught fish at Hurricane Seafood Restaurant. From the deck we savored peel-and-eat shrimp and blackened mahi-mahi, watching the sun slip slowly into the Gulf.