St. Andrews State Park Panama City, FL
We arrived at the gate of St Andrew’s just before five o’clock and were greeted by a very knowledgeable and informative park attendant. It was obvious from the start that this park experience was going to be a harsh contrast from the experience we had the past few days at Indian Pass. With lots of good information, we rode down the newly paved road to our site #105. A small and efficient site, very neat and level with a nice bbq grill and a fire ring and right on bank of the Bay of St. Andrew. We had just enough time to appreciate the beauty of our surroundings for the next few days before the bottom fell out of the sky.
The campground at St. Andrews is well laid out, and thoughtfully maintained. It is very neat and clean and meticulously cared for by the camp hosts. Sites are paved and level, making setup easy even for larger rigs, and most sites offer full hookups, which is always a welcome luxury when you’re on the road for a while. There’s a comfortable sense of privacy between sites, helped by vegetation and the relaxed pace of fellow campers who seem just as happy to be here as we were.
The bathhouses were clean and conveniently located, with adjoining laundry facilities to include one washer and one dryer at each bathhouse. The machines accepted digital payments with your cell phone, which was very helpful in case you didn’t bring your roll of quarters. The overall feel of the campground was peaceful—even though you’re just minutes from the buzz of Panama City Beach. At night, the soundscape shifts from beach traffic to wind in the trees and the distant hush of water. It’s a lovely tradeoff.
One of the things that makes St. Andrews so special is its geography. On one side, you have the Gulf of Mexico with its sugar-white sand and clear, turquoise water. On the other, the Grand Lagoon, calm and protected—perfect for kayaking, paddleboarding, or just watching the water change color as the sun moves across the sky.
We loved being able to walk or bike from our campsite to either side of the park. Mornings were for campground walks and doing laundry, while afternoons we ventured to the beach and over to the lagoon-side, where the landscape changes dramatically and a variety of wildlife can be spotted. To be completely honest, we would have had many walks on the beach, if dogs were allowed on the beach. Florida state law prohibits dogs on any beach - which is a total bummer.
So, with the lack of ability to walk on the beach with the dogs, we found enjoyment in the scenic trails that wind through coastal scrub and pine forest, offering glimpses of wildlife if you’re paying attention. We spotted shorebirds, and the occasional curious deer wandering near the campground - and one one lucky afternoon spotted a bald eagle in a tree.
The park also offers ferry access to Shell Island, a pristine barrier island with no development—just dunes, shells, and wide-open beach. Even if you don’t make the crossing, knowing that kind of untouched landscape is right there adds to the magic of the place.
What we appreciated most about staying at St. Andrews was the balance. You get nature and quiet without feeling isolated. You can cook dinner at your site one night and head into town for fresh seafood the next. It feels accessible but not overdeveloped—like Florida before everything became a resort.
This is the kind of place that works just as well for a long, lazy stay as it does for a few restorative nights between longer drives. It invites morning coffee outside, unhurried walks, and early evenings when the sky does something spectacular over the water. It’s quiet and serene - so surprising considering where it is located. A very lovely surprise, indeed.
RV camping at St. Andrews State Park reminded us why state parks remain some of our favorite places to stay. Thoughtful amenities, natural beauty, and a sense of place that hasn’t been overly polished or commercialized. If you’re looking for a coastal stop that feels grounded, scenic, and genuinely relaxing, this park is well worth adding to your route.
It’s the kind of place that doesn’t shout for your attention—but quietly earns it.
