KEY WEST

Okay, NOT from the point of view of the homeless.  My brother kindly tricked out the old family Previa van for the trip so I didn't have to drive the RV.  He took out the back seats and put carpet over a thick cardboard, and covered it with a sheet.  He left a second sheet, a sleeping bag, a cooler, a lamp, and a beach chair in it as well.  Last time I ws down there I talked with a guy who had been sleeping in his van for three months, and I thought that was just the ticket.  What I didn't calculate, though, was the fact that it got dark at seven and I don't fall asleep until one or so.  Six or seven hours in the RV is one thing.  Six or seven hours on the floor of a van is another.

So I copped out, and went to Boyd's RV Park up the road three miles, and spent $60 so I could hang out at the tiki bar by the pool and watch TV or read.  It was worth it, for one night.

I spent Monday and Tuesday cruising Key West on my bike, which is the only way to see it in my opinion.  Roads cover the island like a grid, for the most part, and I took a spin around the perimeter first and then rode back and forth across the grid.  I got a pretty good feel for the island, I think.  It isn't very large, covering only about seven square miles or about 15% of the size of San Francisco.  Although a million visitors come every year--850,000 via cruise ships--only about 25,000 people live there full time; remarkably, about 85% are white.  The island has distinct areas--New Town, 40% of the island--is comprised mostly of fill, and contains shopping centers, retail malls, residential areas, schools, ball parks, and the Key West International Airport.  It also has the nicest beaches.  Old Town, the western part of the island, has Duval Street, the main tourist street, other tourist destinations, and the classic bungalows and guest mansions. 

It appears that the locals are divided up into the very wealthy, likely part timers, the upper class (affluent neighborhoods of classy homes with maybe an Audi and a BMW SUV in the driveway), the middle class--the bungalows--and the service industry workers, who live in pockets of rough dwellings.  A microcosm of America.

I just HAD to take a picture of this guy.  He was floating out the concrete on a trench maybe four feet wide, and rather than stand on one side or even straddle the damn thing, he was in it up to his thighs, backing up as he went.  I couldn't figure out why the whole thing was filled with concrete either.  Eh--Key West.
Key West's history is mainly one of naval and shipping support, until the tourists discovered it.  There is some fishing and a hint of piracy as well. It was connected to the mainland in 1912 by a railway that washed out in 1935, and the remains of the structure became the only road in and out until the current road was completed.  You really have to want to be there to drive down.

The locals are very tolerant.  Approximately 40% are gay, which says a lot.  There are also Haitian neighborhoods, recognizable by the project-like two story pastel concrete block buildings with colorful laundry strung across the courtyards and old men in Panama hats idly watching roosters scratch the yards.  I could imagine ritual sacrifice and voodoo beside 55 gallon drums filled with burning oil.

The bungalows are lovely, as is the climate.  It is the only place in the lower 48 states that has never had a freeze, and it gets less rain than any other place in Florida.  There is a more or less constant breeze as well.  With the laid back feel, it's a great place to do the Jimmy Buffet thing.  If you like hanging out in bars or lounging on the beach, you can't beat Key West.

The other keys, on the way back to the mainland, are a mixed bag.  There are mansions at the water's edge, but mostly it's either waterfront living or Route 66-like car culture stops.  This time of year the lodging is very expensive.

It was Spring Break when I was there. 


Entrance to the beach in the evening.

 The students congregated on a 100 yard strip of beach on the west side, and the beach was packed with sunburned guys with long swimsuits and girls with the skimpiest bikinis you can find.  I think they may have bought a size or two smaller than they should have.  I'm not complaining, though.  At my age, I was able to wander invisibly through the crowds and get a feel for it again; I went down to Florida for Spring Break forty some years ago.

Lasting impressions: palm trees in the wind, hot sun, Duval Street, blue water you can see through, and laid back locals. 

I drove back to the mainland as night fell, and had some sublime moments of listening to traditional Irish music while watching the sky turn color over the blue and white water.