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| The Red Baron Towards the end of my stay I decided to try one more outdoor activity that did not involve alcohol. For reasons still unclear I chose a plane ride around the island. Not an ordinary plane but a World War One style biplane...a tiny craft with just the pilot and myself aboard. I met the pilot at the airport and boarded the front seat of the plane. I was a bit nervous about flying in a such a small aircraft and my sphincter nearly snapped shut when the pilot pointed out the lifejacket to me. On went my helmet and goggles and away we went...down the runway and zippity up toward the sky. The view was amazing...especially from the open cockpit. Wind in the face, salt air smell, roar of the engines, g-forces from twisting turns. We circled the island then headed out to sea to view shipwrecks. The water is clear as glass in the Keys and we could plainly see the ships beneath the water. We flew over six wrecks then over a shallow area known as The Flats where sharks and manta rays could be seen swimming in large numbers. The pilot swooped down (stomach flip flop) for a better look and right there I decided not to swim again the rest of the week. Those bastard sharks were big! A few more twists and turns and we went in for a bumpy landing. An amazing ride and another must do for visitors! I needed a drink so I took a cab downtown, had a few, walked to the beach and sat a while then walked back to Duval Street and called my local friends to come meet me. I vowed this would be my last night out...it was Wednesday night and I was leaving Friday afternoon. Off to Finnegan's we went and drank the night away. Sleep was the order of the following day. Then an afternoon of Long Island ice teas poolside. Yes, life is good at times. |
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| The Conch Republic In the early 1980's the U.S. Border Patrol sealed off the Florida Keys and began to check the identification of anyone coming from the area. The reasons for this are hazy. Perhaps because Key West is just 90 miles from Cuba, closer to there than to Miami, they were thought guilty by association with the godless communists. Whatever the reasons, in typical Keys humor fashion, the mayor of Key West jokingly declared the island city a separate nation and gave birth to the Conch Republic (pronounced conk), named after the beautiful conch shells found abundantly in the waters around the island. The Chamber of Commerce will issue you an official passport of the republic for $40. I learned all of this from a bartender at Sloppy Joe's as a nursed my hangover with a bit of the hair o' the dog. Sloppy Joe's is where Ernest Hemingway drank and supposedly wrote sections of a few of his novels. I picked up all this local lore while sucking up the air conditioning and resting my feet after tramping around the downtown area all afternoon on my second day. Duval Street looked different in the daylight. More families...and it resembled what I imagine streets in old Bahama looked like when England ruled the world. Whitewashed clapboard and shuttered buildings fighting a losing battle against the bleaching effects of the sun. Everywhere open front taverns and shops filled with listless people sipping beer or just watching under the creak of ancient ceiling fans. This reverie was spoiled by the passing of the ridiculous Conch Train Tour, a sort of trackless trolley stuffed with gawkers and an overly enthusiastic tour guide that putters around the island. The joys of tourism. What I was waiting for was the arrival of the famed Sunseat Celebration at Mallory Square. Key West has some of the most beautiful sunsets anywhere and the city seems to shut down for an hour each night as everyone stops what they are doing and watches nature's curtain call. At the waterfront Mallory Square street performers and vendors gather to work for tips and sales among the throngs of tourists gathering for one of the best sunset views. Around 6:30 I headed for the square. I went to an outdoor bar and ordered a strawberry daquiri to ward off the heat. I received a massive glass topped with what looked like a fruit salad complete with paper umbrella and monkey. I looked at the bartender and said "I don't remember ordering the gay drink". He failed to see the humor so I moved on, dropping orange slices and paper monkeys along the way to the edge of the square. As the sun dipped the crowds swelled. Everyone trying to see everything at once and all of them stepping on my toes. The shows began. Dogs walking tightropes, cats leaping through hoops, magic acts, escape artists, painters, musicians, psychics, acrobats, fire eaters and everywhere cameras snap snap snapping and drinks slurp slurp slurping as the sun went down turning the sky gold. It was maddening and beautiful. As soon as the sun slipped under the horizon I fled the crowd and went back to my hotel. Later I called my new local friends and we did a repeat of the previous night. This time I remained conscious fortified by the caffeine in my Rum and Coke. |
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