I'm thinking about plastic surgery. Let's just say that after drinking the water at the celebrated Ponce de Leon Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park, I didn't achieve the "as-advertised" (OK, truth be told, the "as-hoped-for") miraculous transformation to blushing, youthful skin. But, let me quickly add, that this Fountain of Youth is, without a doubt, the only thing that disappoints in picturesque, moss-draped St. Augustine. (And on the plus side, Ponce de Leon's park offers other activities—and also is home to a harem of sartorial peacocks, who entertain, as they strut and prance freely.)