Will and I riding our own bikes and not the beach cruisers, gave us a certain local look. After visiting Fort Taylor and the oldest house I town (the name eludes me), we found a very laid back Cajun restaurant with the best jambalaya I have ever had. Devoid of tourists made for a peaceful lunch. That evening after a brew at the Green Parrot, filled with locals, we met Hank and Kathy back at the hostel for a small jam session between Will and his guitar and Hank and his Ukulele, down by the pool. Before crashing for the evening, I packed, showered and shaved so I could make a quick getaway to the airport to pick up my rented car. Three days gave me a good feel for Key West. The island is bustling with tourists to the point that I do not know why people pay millions for houses when there is hardly any privacy and quiet. Development has been halted by the State of Florida because the exposure the Keys have to the hurricanes and only one evacuation route.
Tomorrow, I drive 550 miles north to Jacksonville and to my reserved Airbnb where I will pack up and fly back to the cold of New England. I wish I could have kept on bicycling. Vietnam awaits.
No comments:
Post a Comment