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When you’ve gotta get out of Dodge and leave
the glam-slam of Miami behind, why not ferry down to Key West? The
four-hour
Key West Express
catamaran leaves before
ten am
from the
Miami Seaquarium—and
zips over the waves at 40 mph. With a sun deck and full galley and
bar, and no less than four plasma televisions showcasing Hollywood’s
latest trash, the 155-foot Big Cat Express assures that you’re in a
nearly catatonic state upon landing in Key West—just in time for
lunch.
Ever since 2005, when MTV filmed the 17th
season of
Real World on the
southernmost part of the mainland, there’s even more of a spring
break mentality in Key West, and particularly in the environs of
Sloppy Joe’s— which
makes it necessary not only to watch out for the Conch Train loaded
with tourists from the heartland, but also the makings of a rowdy
frat party along several blocks of Duval.
Nonetheless, the unofficial motto of Key West
(as evinced by numerous bumper stickers and window placards) is
One Human Family—an understandable objective in a place where
scores of fanny-packing day trippers share the sidewalks with
free-roaming roosters and chickens, as well as cats by the dozen
skittering along the white picket fences.
Basically, as another sticker has it, this town
is an Attitude-Free Zone, which doesn’t necessarily mean that
there’s nothing that doesn’t merit an attitude. Take
915, for example,
the restaurant at
915 Duval, located in
the more civilized nether regions of Duval, and situated in a
two-story Victorian mansion evoking Tennessee Williams’s
Suddenly, Last Summer. Inside, a wine bar straight out of
Austin Powers leads to the upstairs porch, where palm fronds brush
the railings as you chow down on food more often associated with
world capitals than cruise ship port o’calls. After a meal at
915, it’s not
surprising that you find yourself staring into realtor windows,
imagining this convivial—and yes, very cool—restaurant as your local
hang.
Back at Poorhouse Lane (where once there was an actual poorhouse,
and where now there are cats and their glistening night eyes to
light the way home), the nights are quiet—until the cocks commence
at four am. Key West is a bicycle town, and it’s possible that
bikes outnumber automobiles—for a pleasant change and an acoustic
break. Park yours in front of
Pepe’s Café on
Caroline, the oldest eatery in Key West, and kick back with a Bloody
Mary as you wait for a table. A chicken house, seemingly crammed
with every last artifact the family farmhouse could no longer hold,
Pepe’s has been open
since 1909—and this year is celebrating its centennial. For
breakfast, the celebration continues with eggs, grits, toasted Key
lime bread, and Chock Full O’Nuts coffee—for old times. In a town
overdosing on local character,
Pepe’s earns its
reputation with food as winning as its charms—which, in the end, of
course, is what Key West does best.
Best always,
Mark and Robert
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