Dear Traveler-Florida Keys

There often seem to be two places in the world these days or maybe it’s two states of being. And maybe it’s just an extension of being on vacation and not being on vacation but all that gibberish aside, what I’m trying to get at is there are places where people hurry with purpose, and those where purpose itself seems to have taken a holiday. Fort Lauderdale belongs firmly to the latter category, and we arrived there with the distinct sensation that we ought to immediately slow down or risk being politely asked to leave.

We stayed by the beach, which in Florida is less a location and more of a headspace—everything lightly salted, faintly sunburned, and carrying a thin but persistent layer of sand that will accompany you home in ways both mysterious and eternal. Sand carried for years in and out of our luggage. Eating while we were there, became our chief occupation. To realize we were on vacation almost gave us the freedom to just consume whatever was around. At the Boathouse we had seafood so fresh it felt like it might still have opinions. We sat right on the water in peace, relaxing and just watching each enormous boat pass us by on the waterway, only shocked into reality when some thudding club music shook from the occasional speed boat with 4 engines and the enthusiastic half-clothed boaters shouting along. It was Saturday and 80, so when in Ro…Ft. Lauderdale. 2 other stops were the Hollywood Donut Factory which provided donuts of such heroic proportions that we felt like we’d be dragging those beasts along the rest of our trip. And then there was El Taquito which delivered tacos that made you briefly question why all meals everywhere aren’t tacos.

We took a boat ride along the extravagantly named Millionaires Row, which is essentially a floating tour of other people’s success. Vast waterfront homes slid by, each one more determined than the last to demonstrate that its owner had not merely done well in life but had done so well that you couldn’t help but just appreciate what a place on a waterway could really look like if you had enough enthusiasm and an incredible budget. All jokes and extension of belief aside, it is an oddly soothing activity, drifting past unimaginable homes while eating snacks and pretending this is all perfectly normal. Throw in being on a boat on calm water with sun tanning you at a perfect temperature and you felt like you could finally relax.

Then we drove to Key West the next day. It’ was Will’s first trip down to Key West by car. It was a journey that felt like traveling not just through space but into a different understanding of time altogether. Will would point out how low the bridge was to the water just as we couldn’t believe some of the deteriorating bridges just waiting to drop into the

water to each side of this (maybe the context being what feels substantial now, could just as easily be yesterday’s bridge). We never saw any Key Deer, though the signs made it seem like they’d be jumping out everywhere, but that just happens with those regular old deer up north that always seem to find a car to detail. The day was improbably beautiful, the kind that makes you suspect the weather has been arranged in advance with crystal blue water you didn’t think existed in this side of the Caribbean.

Key West itself is incredibly eccentric and the Key West Beach Resort we stayed at was just the right mix of pool and beach with the closeness to get downtown in just a few minutes time. The island and hotel are populated not just by people but by roosters and iguanas, both of whom carry themselves with the easy authority of long-term residents. Walking down the outdoor walkway to bring up the rest of our gear, I heard a scurrying and came up right behind an iguana slipping and sliding down the hallway, stopping only to look back and wonder why I was bothering their afternoon jaunt. Roosters strut about as if late for important meetings, with the 3 baby chickens (would that be chicks) circling the pool at a 5 minute clip, dizzying us and only on one occasion pecking at my foot, constantly looking for a bit of food. While iguanas lounge with a composure that suggests they have already solved life’s larger questions, there was 1 guy who took it upon himself to climb up onto Will’s lounge chair, just hoping to get a piece of his chicken tender. Food and chilling, the iguana life. Just watch out for the cars. Meanwhile, we occupied ourselves with more modest pursuits—sitting by the pool, wandering to the beach, and generally doing as little as possible with considerable dedication.

We ate at One Duval, where the fish was excellent and the atmosphere even better—boats gliding past, sunsets performing their nightly act of trying to get closer to the sun, and, for reasons no one felt compelled to explain, the occasional boom of cannons from a passing pirate ship. It is not every meal that comes with artillery, but one quickly learns not to question these things.

Meals continued to be a highlight. Dorado managed the impressive feat of being both fancy and utterly relaxed, while Hot Tin Roof paired good food with views that made you start ranking which sunset you had seen in these couple days that really was the best. Lolita’s, which was right down in the square was a perfect send off to our vacation where Will ran around with all the people, trying to get the best pictures of the sun and fun being had all around us.

At night, the stars appeared in overwhelming numbers. From the beach or a balcony, we found ourselves gazing upward and discussing the sky which seemed impossibly vast, and our place in it pleasantly small.

For me, I can’t help dragging everyone to something historic, so we also visited the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum, which contained not only the residence of the late author but also a surprising number of cats who appear to have inherited the property. Which, well, let’s be honest, the family likes cats, so that was a win.

The standout experience for trips down to Key West when not exploring the city and its history is a seaplane trip to Dry Tortugas National Park, which feels less like a national park and more like a well-kept secret. Arriving there is an event in itself—water stretching endlessly in every direction, the sense that you’ve gone somewhere remote enough to drop off the edge of routine. You can snorkel in water so clear it almost felt like you can see for miles underwater. We watched fish carry on with their lives and briefly entertained the notion of taking up fishing before sensibly remembering who we are and how inept we’d truly be at it.

Finally, there was a sunset cruise—because in Key West, sunsets are not merely observed but properly celebrated. And if you’ve been reading, yes, it was sunny, and people like a good sunset. The sky once again performed beyond reasonable expectations, colors unfolding to a degree you question your own color spectrum.

In the end, what remains is a gentle sense of having briefly stepped outside the usual order of things—a place where time relaxes, animals roam with confidence, meals are events, and even the sunsets seem to take pride in their work. It was what we hoped for when taking this trip and while in Florida, it did not disappoint. Returning to ordinary life afterward always feels like a slightly regrettable administrative decision and gets us always talking about when it is time to finally escape the north, maybe we will find a way down here for good.