At the Key West Welcome Center just over the bridge into Key West on north Roosevelt Boulevard on this late Tuesday morning in mid-January, Larry, a burly American-African, greets us like family. Having traveled nearly three hours on the mostly two lane roads of the Keys, we are looking for a room, quick and relatively inexpensive, so we can rent bikes for an afternoon of bicycling. Alas, motel rooms are just more expensive in Key West than on the mainland. Our usual $79 Days Inn room is $159 while next store at the Quality Inn a room is $149. Just beyond is the Welcome Center where, with a wide smile, Larry, born and raised in Key West, says he’s got just the place for us. He’s just so real that my doubting side doesn’t kick in. We know the $129 at the Wicker Guesthouse is a good price for the area, especially being in the Old Town, where we learn we can park our car and don’t have to move it again on this boutique, island of merely 7+ square miles (roughly 4 miles by 1 ¾ miles). We trust our instincts and jump at Larry’s suggestion.
Driving into the downtown with lots of traffic, we arrive at the Wicker Guesthouse on Duval Street. With our room not ready this late morning, we rent one-speed bikes for $15 for 24 hours right at the Wicker Guesthouse and settle into the car/bike roll and weave through the downtown.
Flowing with the traffic to the Truman Waterfront with its insanely large cruise ships, we see tourists everywhere; but it’s not objectionable at all. There’s a happy vibe of people enjoying the 75 degrees and, dare I say, escaping.
We continue our circumnavigation of the island by rolling past turn-of-the-century mansions, bungalows, many with only a place for a car and very little lawn. Reaching out of the window of one house you could touch the house of your neighbor’s. And talk about snug. The crypts are literally on top of one other at the one city cemetery. Speaking with a local gravedigger, we learn that the concrete crypts can be buried one below another as well as piled five high. The limited real estate and the high water table are issues on this island where every inch of turf is put to productive use.
(The inscription reads, I told you I was sick.)
Once at the beach there is a wide sidewalk for bicyclists, walkers, and roller bladers. We lollygag along and pedal down the White Street pier just because we feel like it. We are so in vacation mode.
Escapism at its finest. BTW, if escaping is in your blood, consider picking up Quit Your Job And Move To Key West : The Complete Guide by David L. Sloan and Christopher Shultz.
Further down the wide ocean-side bike path, we spot this plaque below at the AIDS Memorial on the shorefront. Tennyson captures the mood of the city and wisdom for us all.
Rounding the curve from South Roosevelt to North Roosevelt, there is the unromantic part of Key West common to most cities. Burger King, Yamaha Ski-Dos and Wave Runners, Conch Republic Liquor, TGIFridays, Home Depots, and I Hop are all there. Franchise America is never far away from even iconic cities like Key West. Dinner for us comes from Publix, a local grocery store. It’s a leafy green salad mixed with potato salad right from the deli. We avoid the cliché, the island dressing.
After three hours of biking, we return to our room at the Wicker Guesthouse, to read and write by the pool. Wicker has a B and B feel. Among the palms, hibiscus, frangipani, and passion flower sit 21 rooms in six restored houses with a feeling of tropical intimacy. Each room has a deck just outside the door.
Later we sit by the heated pool with an evening Shiraz. It's all good.
Later still we walk lively Duval Street to the same beach we biked to earlier in the day. We pass a restaurant with no windows, just shutters for the inevitable rain storm.
Prior to our complimentary poolside breakfast, we rise for 630A ride down an empty Duval Street the next morning. Heading on the traffic-less street, we hear roosters in front yards and have this main drag to ourselves. Panel vans selling food like hot dogs, fries, and Cokes just plant themselves by the sea wall. Carts selling friendship bracelets, beach towels, and bottle cap necklaces sit on side streets ready to do business.
Key West, like New Orleans and San Francisco is a don’t miss, bucket list city if you want to know America. Here for twenty four hours, we have just scratched the surface of knowing this town of 24,000. We’ve not found a winter home, but we have our number one place to escape to.
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