KEY WEST Part 3

Key West Part 1 - http://www.thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2012/05/key-west-daytripping-imagining-part-i.html
Key West Part 2 - http://www.thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2012/06/key-west-part-2.html

This is Key West to me

 We arrive in Key West about lunchtime after what has already been a wonderful bus trip down from Ft. Lauderdale along Highway 1 past the Everglades, Key Largo, 7 Mile Bridge, and some of the most magnificent water scenery, a route that almost rivals Pacific Coast Highway in California.  It is peaceful and calm whereas the PCH is rugged and exciting.  Ah, the differences in America are thrilling.

The bus drops us off by the Courthouse in Jackson Square, named for Andrew Jacdson, and a place depicted on maps dating back to 1827.  As we exit the bus, though, I am ready to head to Jake's, the still-existing seedy bar that was the original Sloppy Joe’s Ernest Hemingway frequented.  I like Katz's Deli in NYC, so seediness is nothing new to me!  But Mindy our guide tells us we really ought to put off Jake's and head to Kelly McGillis’ (of Top Gun and Witness fame) for a better meal.  Truth is that Kelly's is no longer owned by Kelly, but ignorance is bliss when 'tis folly to be wise.  I am totally happy there.

Kelly's "Backyard"

The restaurant is lovely, the building being the 1927 birthplace of Pan American Airlines.  We head out to the patio where a canopy of trees make it amazingly and refreshingly cool.  The restaurant is also a microbrewery, and that doesn’t hurt us at all.

Rob orders Clipper Wheat Beer and I order a Top Gun Margarita.  Of course. It arrives in a tall salt-rimmed glass and is top gun as margaritas go.

In Key West our regular bar food tastes are out.  We order two appetizers: sweet and spicy conch fritters (what else in the Conch Republic) and Flash Fried Calamari. 

Kelly's from the front.  Notice the Pan Am sign.

I have never had conch in any form and only know how to pronounce it because I’m a reader.  This is scrumptious!  Fried but not greasy, and the sauce is a chunky, tomatoey, chutneyish, spicy deliciousness.

The calamari is lightly breaded and lightly fried—still soft and not chewy.  Two sauces arrive with it, a red, spicy sauce and a milder sauce similar to ones I’ve had before.

Had we been staying overnight, we would not have left Kelly’s.  It is that kind of inviting place, and I recommend it. 

But there is still so much to see and do, and the day is passing.

Despite the heat, Key West is a walking city.  The residents take pride in the South Florida heritage and keep their homes beautifully restored.  The architecture is unique; the flowers are out of this world, and the maintenance is perfection.  Tin rooves (yes, and the heck with Urban Dictionary) reflect the abominable heat and help keep it out of the house. Walk. Walk. Walk on the brick walkways because you are walking on ballasts found in ships wrecked off the Keys.



President Harry S. Truman  "The buck stops here."



From Kelly’s on Whitehead Street, we head toward the Truman Annex, a neighborhood that leads us past beautiful homes to President Harry Truman’s Little White House where a large statue of Harry sits on the front lawn, the haberdasher’s hat on his head and his legs crossed—just as he might have sat while he was down here. 

The only presidential museum in Florida, it was originally built in 1890 to house naval officers, but Truman spent 175 days of his presidency here.  There have been many famous visitors and other presidents as well who have found this a restful and lush setting: Taft, Eisenhower, and Clinton, for instance.  Peace talks have occurred here, and problems wrestled with here. 

The Little White House

For us it is a must-see.  American history gives us insight. We do not take the house tour, but the photos and information on the main level are informative and interesting.  I’d read David McCullough’s Truman, and so being here is a special treat.  One wonders about a man who seemed a “safe bet” and ended up changing the world through his strength of character.

From the Little White House, we walk past more charming homes to the water enjoying the views despite the sweltering heat.  We wend our way through the streets back to Whitehead, and for me the most important stop of the day, Ernest Hemingway’s home.  He may be my favorite American author, and he is surely one I lovingly taught in high school and led book discussions about in the local library.  Being in his home is awesome because much of it is just as he left it.

Wendy outside Ernest Hemingway's home

Two particularly wonderful moments occur.  The first is going to Hemingway’s study by crossing the courtyard and climbing the flight of stairs to this room.  For years in the high school I’d shown a film on Hemingway, and in it were clips of the author walking up those stairs early in the morning to write his extraordinary books.  He began each day re-reading the previous work, re-writing, and then sweating over the next words. It is here he finished A Farewell to Arms.  Here I stand, walking up the same stairs and looking at his desks and his typewriter as if they are waiting for his action.  Silly?  Maybe.  But that is me. 

From the top of the stairs I can see the lighthouse that he used as a marker to guide him home after too much drinking at Sloppy Joe’s. 



The chain keeps people away; the cats have the run of the place

 The second wonderful moment concerns cats, a fact that might surprise my friends. Hemingway was a lover of cats, and the descendants of his cats still live in the house.  The cats can be tracked because each has an extra toe; they are polydactyls.  They have free run of the house, and there are places for them to seek shade outside the house.  They are cared for lovingly on a daily basis, and a vet comes periodically to make sure they are well.  They are named after celebrities: actors, authors, artists, royalty, and novel characters.  There is a cat cemetery at the house too, and one can see the names of the cats—in itself making for an amusing moment.

Shade and some good reading material

Cat tombstone territory

To name just a few of the deceased decendants

It is heartening to see several copies of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in his library (though most of his books remain in his home in Cuba).  Twain is his rival for my American author’s affection.  It was Hemingway who said, “All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.” This book might be my absolute favorite.

Hemingway's "last cent"?

You do not have to be an English teacher or even a great fan of Hemingway to enjoy this site.  The tour is informative and interesting, and the house is quite marvelous.  The gardens are beautiful (enough so people get married here), and you can even see the penny near the pool which cost, in those days, the enormous sum of $20,000.  Hemingway was a correspondent during the Spanish Civil War when his wife, Pauline managed the construction.  When he came home and saw it--and the cost--story has it he said that the pool cost him his last cent.  With that he threw down a penny and it is imbedded in the stone around the pool. The 65" pool remains the largest private pool in South Florida. Don't miss this place!  Do it!