The city of Key West has a height ordinance limiting buildings to less than 40 feet ( 13 meters) more or less, but in 1926 there were no height limitations when they built La Concha Hotel:
People ask me where they should stay when in Key West and it's a question I haven't a clue how to answer. Personally I'd rather have a tooth extraction without anaesthetic than stay at a bed and breakfast; I prefer the anonymity of a hotel to the intimacy of staying as a guest in someones home. And yes I know I'm in the minority on that one, but there it is. While roadside motels are extremely convenient, a hotel like La Concha that has a history is far more fascinating to me.
La Concha is operated these days by Crowne Plaza, but it hasn't always been that way. Hotel chains are like baseball franchises, they change names and allegiances pretty much at the drop of a hat. In 1926 Carl Aubuchon opened this landmark and his is a name that has dropped from sight in the annals of key West popular history. But whoever he was he had a vision and he built a luxury hotel for a town that wasn't completely conversant with the concept of personal bathrooms, elevators and a level of comfort that apparently got people talking.
La Concha fell into disrepair in the seventies and eighties at which point the building got a makeover and was brought back to it's original glory. It strikes me that La Concha measures the fortunes of the economy, rising up in the middle of the crazy 1920s and getting a major makeover at the start of the twenty year boom that began in the 1980s. Today it is still a very comfortable hotel, but a roof top pool and elevators don't mark it as especially luxurious.
But if you're asking this is my kind of hotel, luxurious perhaps not but old fashioned comfort is what I want. And the pool? It's okay I guess, crowded with greenery and people on a Friday evening:
My cousin came to visit a few years ago and stayed here, so I did get to see an average room which is furnished in keeping with the hotel's historic ambiance though the rooms aren't that huge for the most part. And people are strange because they frequently feel the need to sleep in a room that is the size of a barn, for some reason. On the other hand La Concha is on Duval between Southard and Fleming Streets so if downtown is where you want to be, this is the spot.
There's a huge parking lot in back where you can leave your car and rent a scooter is you feel so inclined and you can even pull right up to the door like a motel and unload your luggage:
La Concha puts you right in the heart of the action on the four hundred block of Duval Street and that is cool or annoying depending on your point of view. The city's only Starbucks franchise is in the row of shops alongside the hotel. And the loo for the Starbucks is in the lobby of the hotel so make sure you ask the barrista for the key card before you go wandering through the lobby looking for relief:
And what in this picture looks like a pile of rubbish is actually a palm frond weaver's workplace. The weaver himself, on a slow afternoon, was talking to the coconut painter:
But the painter was staying focused on his work, the devil as we know, is in the details...
Next to the Starbucks there is a store, an official conch republic store I think, selling trinkets, and what vacationer doesn't want to go home without trinkets:
There was even a musical performer crowding the sidewalk in front of the cash cow that is La Concha, but she was taking a break from her drums:
But through it all La Concha sat imperturbable:
You hardly need leave the hotel for a a vacation if you felt like staying in the hotel and ignoring the city around it (as much as the night time revelers allow anyone to ignore their noisy fun). There is a bar and restaurant downstairs:
If , like me, you don't actually stay at the hotel you can scoot through the lobby, check the Hawaiian-shirted concierge at work, listen to the low murmurs of comatose tourists resting comfortably...
...and make a bee-line for the elevator where you will find references to famous residents of the hotel. Wanna guess? Ernest Hemingway stayed here when he first came to the city and Tennessee Williams we are told wrapped up "A Streetcar Named Desire" while staying at the hotel. Those kinds of claim to fame always puzzle me, as though inspiration comes within the wallpaper. Then there was Harry Truman who stayed at the Navy Base while President, and here, later:
The elevator will take you to the top of the hotel, where, lo and behold there is another bar of course...
...with splendid views of the city, including as it happens, my motorcycle parked on Fleming Street:
More tomorrow on the views from The Top that the hotel promotes. A picture of my Bonneville apparently doesn't rate because you won't find it on the hotel website.
6 comments:
Dearest Sir,
This is an excellent narrative on accomodations in the Southern Most City. You should be careful, it is going to be hard to deny making recommendations if you keep up delightful and informative postings like this one :)
Hoping you are enjoying good snorkling and salt water composting toilets and such :)
-Peace
I share your desire to avoid the smaller, intimate, house-guest style bed and breakfasts. I find the La Concha a bit too noisy at night if you have a room on the Duval side. I prefer the Westin at the marina, but I really can't afford it unless it's summer.
A great alternative is to stay in one of the cottages that some of the B&Bs have-- avoids the house guest feel, and typically have a small kitchen type area so I can get some goodies from Fausto's for breakfast, snacks, and drinks on the cheap. I hate having to eat out three times a day when staying at a conventional hotel.
Just to add on the B&B vs. traditional hotel theme... I always stay at the Chelsea House when the wife and I get down to zero. It's not the most elaborate B&B and recently it has come into the hands of a conglomerate of B&B's (which has its pros and cons). To us it has sentimental value though, we took our first trip together to zero and stayed there (when I was a non-commital bachelor), our son was conceived there on the same trip, which led to my becoming a not-so-non-commital bachelor (permanent souvenier). And then we topped it off by getting married there ( a fitting place I thought to end a long era of debauchery hosted on that thoroughfare).
The thing about B&B's, or that one in particular, is that you've got to make it your own place. We enjoy meeting new people in the common areas, but then we like to have our own private balcony, everyone else be damned, and make cocktails before descending the stairs into the madness... Plus, you can stay a damn hotel anywhere, at least each B&B has its own ambiance to it.
LaConcha is nice though and this pictorial brought to mind many family vacations spent there in both the 70's and 80's when she wasn't quite the "crowne plaza" sort of gem (I think Marriott owned her for a while if I recall).
Apropos of nothing, JACK R...Now's our chance, while the Bonneville is parked and he is well off shore... You get the free range chickens while I secure the garden shed awaiting your return!!!
I have always like La Concha, expecially the bar up top, what a view, and they still have smoking rooms.
I like the Pier House too, beach and all and I have friends that still work there from back in the day. Bartended Joanie has been there at the same job for 26 years.
William
Leave a comment would really benifit from spellcheck since I obviously can't
William
Dear Conch Et Al:
I have never liked the B&B concept as it precludes me from relaxing on the grand scale. There are times when social engagements and professional obligations require me to come rolling in at 3am, singing all 40 verses of "Barnicle Bill The Sailor."
Likewise, the more intimate B&Bs discourage the odd occasion when one must puke with reckless abandon, and the shared bathroom on the third floor is not up to the task. Plus there is the ordeal of the group breakfast, where the lady bird caller from Pittsburgh and the nutritionist just back from a three-year stint with the Peace Corp. (in Bangladesh) learn that I travel with a pocket spitoon and equate a bloody Mary with oatmeal.
Give me a good old hotel with a bar at each exit, a barman who thinks he knows me, and room service that functions on the Jim Thorpe model. I want a concierge who can get me a shot of penicillin on 24 hours notice and a desk clerk who will look me right in the eye when I walk in with some dolly and say, "Good evening Mr Riepe. Your neice is looking as lovely as ever."
When I travel by bike, I like a well-kept 1950's motel that enables me to park no more than 32 inches from my room door. In any case, I want an air conditioner the size of a Buick Global, and a room thermostat that goes no higher than 52ยบ. This way, cans of Coke that get left out on the bathroom sink overnight will not cause premature rum evaporation when the two are introduced in a glass.
And when I get to Key West, I will prefer something with a balcony that lets me look out over open water. Bonus points wll be earned if I am looking down at a Triumph and a Suzuki.
Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to bean a couple of riders I know with an ice bucket full of cold water -- as they mount up.
It's odd, attempting to write coherent responses to a blog that is on automatic pilot. Perhaps we should write no responses until Uncle Bile gets back.
Thank you all for reading my comment despite the fact our host is eating rats with the cast of "Lost" these days.
Sincerely and with gratitude for each of you...
Jack Riepe
Twisted Roads
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