Florida: Day 3

Today we woke up early, AGAIN, and headed down for our free breakfast of pick-your-own-fillings omelets. The omelets just didn't seem to be as fun or yummy as the day before, but we shrugged it off. Oh, and we finally found the toaster.

After packing up all of our crap, turning in the card keys, and packing the car, we finally headed off for Key West. The highway out of Miami wasn't too bad, but the other side of the road was at a standstill. We passed a man on a grassy incline near the highway being rescued by the ambulance crew that were trying to work around his oddly positioned leg. His motorcycle was still up on the road above him. We passed two more horrendous car wrecks before we started wondering if the highway was cursed. We definitely weren't looking forward to the way back.

After a while on big open highways, we finally wound down onto the smaller highway US 1, which twisted through some grasslands at the edge of the Everglades before dumping us out on the first of the bridges spanning the Keys. And the water? The most beautiful turquoise and periwinkle blue I have ever seen.

We rolled to a stop in front of the visitor's center in Key Largo, hoping to get some information on the islands, and the glass bottom boat rides, and maybe somewhere fun to eat. My dad and sister went inside to get the scoop. Here's the conversation as they told it to me:

Sister: Hi, we'd like to get a map.
Visitor Center Man (VCM): Of what?
Sister: Um, the Keys. That is where we are, right?
VCM: Yup.
Sister: So, is there anything you recommend doing?
VCM: There's not really much to do here.
Sister: What about the glass bottom boat over the coral reef?
VCM: Too windy. Seven foot waves. Zero visibility.
Sister: Any beaches?
VCM: Not really.
Sister: Well, um, thanks for your...help.

So, with our not-really-helpful map, we continued on. My sister had nabbed a little book with restaurant suggestions when the useless man wasn't looking, and we managed to find a little seafood place in Marathon that was recommended. The place was called Keys Fisheries, and it was right on the little marina where the deep sea fishing tours left from. We got to sit on the patio area, looking at the sailboats and wild pelicans as we ate.

After lunch we headed across the Seven Mile Bridge, admiring the scenery of small sandy islands and uncountable palm trees. The old railway bridge is still standing, although the rust is slowly eating the rails away. It's the only blight on an otherwise amazing view.

We finally arrived in Key West around two in the afternoon, and we each decided on an afternoon activity. My sister and mother chose sunbathing. I chose a nap in the air conditioning. Hey, it's my vacation! We all met up later and got ready for a night on the town.

We got dressed in what we thought was casual, but still nice, but the lady at the concierge desk downstairs disabused us of that notion. Apparently in Key West, an open Hawaiian shirt and raggy shorts is casual. Anything nicer is fancy dress. In her own words: "If you're wearing a suit in Key West, you're either on trial or the lawyer." Hmm. Nice to know.

So, being overdressed for just about every restaurant near Duval Street, we set off in the hotel shuttle van for dinner. We were dropped in a nicely populated restaurant/bar area right on a marina. We stopped for some seafood at a promising looking place, but were a little surprised by how noisy it was inside. I especially loved the man at the next table, whose conversation was peppered with so many uses of the f-word, I thought it might be a record. Luckily he left shortly after we arrived.

After dinner we made our way down to Duval Street for a nice after dinner stroll. We stopped over on a small dock area when we realized the sun was getting ready to set. Only after we took our places next to a couple of other tourists did we notice the homeless camp set up twenty feet away. Or the woman passed out in the flower bed. One of the homeless men started offering to take pictures for the tourists, claiming his was a free service offered to help tourists see the beauty of the island. Oh, and of course he accepted any monetary consideration.

Duval Street was alive with all of the tourists, and the bars were already swinging at such an early hour. Motorcyclists rode by on expensive bikes, and tourists rode by on rental bicycles. The air was full of the smell of flowers and the sound of laughter. We stopped at an open air cafe, hoping to get dessert, but when I questioned the hostesss about not eating a full dinner, she told me that they weren't seating people just for dessert. I looked at the empty tables taking up half the restaurant. I brought them to her attention. She finally agreed to seat us. Our waiter was horrified when I told him. We spent $60 on dessert and wine, and our waiter got a nice tip. I'm sure the hostess got a scolding.

By the time we made it back to the shuttle pick up location, we were stuffed like happy pigs and ready for our beds. We couldn't even fit a key lime pie on a stick, which I'm still curious about. But we weren't too full to spot the Waffle House on the way home, which we plotted for breakfast the next morning. Ah, the concerns of the vacationing American.