Stock Island Sense

It was one of those mornings when Cheyenne greeted me on the deck ready to go. We went and ended up on Stock Island where she made a new acquaintance. A rather self possessed small dog came trotting up to say hello and didn't get much back from my great silent Labrador... 

 No Parking in large white letters the plywood said. The requirement seemed rather urgent but I wasn't sure why.

 There was not a huge amount of activity that early. My Labrador and I were alone.

The shades of blue of the American Dream. An elderly truck, a trailer and Old Glory, under a clear blue sky.

 I wodmered if perhaps the drawers might fly open springing surprise children on the street:

 There seemed to be an air of anticipation, as though waiting for the restaurant.

 The symmetry of coconut palms:

 The lot look so sterile and empty I figured no one lived here anymore.

 This machine was parked on the street as though awaiting an enthusiastic buyer:

Two women enjoying a pause in the morning said hello to Cheyenne. She thought them fascinating to an embarrassing degree. 

 Old Glory again, this time not on a trailer but at the Fortress Temple, lying above the fortifications.

 The future and the past on the street together:

 "Please don't spend your time pointlessly in this place." Nice and blunt.

 I thought this car belonged more properly as a tourist attraction in Havana:

Cayo del Mar means Island of the Sea. As close as this lot will come to the sea is the boat parked in front of the apartment complex.

Stock Island, the other Key West.

Hogs Breath Saloon

 I did go to Hog's Breath once to see some stage performances and it was quite good fun.  However i do very poorly at Key West visitors' favorite endeavors: bar hopping and fishing.

I don't much like crowds or noise, I am sports illiterate and have no idea how to make small talk so bars are  just places where beer and stuff costs more. I'm not sure I have this right so perhaps one day I shall steel myself to see why it is millions of people want to come to key West to see this.  

The nerd in me is alive and well so when I see a sign about the past I stop and look and think. Immigrants at work, check that out!

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Mallory Square

In 12 hours Mallory Square will be teeming with people there to watch the sun go down.  For me and my dog it's a breezy walk on the waterfront.

The USS Maine memorial is a reminder of a different time and a different world, a small semi-circle as a reminder of the event that shook the world of it's day: the Spanish American War changed the lives of people living under Spanish rule in islands across the globe. And here in Key West's most tourist-driven spot is the best memorial to that strange and still not completely understood incident. Here's the link: USS Maine.

It really is packed with people at night around here and walking in the early hours reminded me that these barricades are for a reason and I haven't got down to Mallory, except to walk my dog, in far too long.

Looking out across Key West harbor:

Following where Cheyenne leads:

Stephen Mallory's claim to fame was as Secretary to the Confederate Navy. 

Born in Trinidad, a British Colony, in 1812, his family came to Key West in 1820 where eventually after getting an education Up North he became a noted attorney in maritime law. He held local offices including Inspector of Customs and fought in one of the Seminole Wars and eventually was elected US Senator in 1850. He served until the Civil War when he switched sides and  thanks to his maritime knowledge he was appointed Secretary of the Navy for the Confederates, also representing Florida as a senior member of the rebel Cabinet.  He was paroled on charges of treason and returned to Florida where he died, still opposing black voting rights, supporting flogging on ships and praying to a Catholic God who apparently supported these high, humane ideals. He is buried in Pensacola yet his name lives on here in this eccentric town where the Federal Secretary of the Navy has been consigned to oblivion. I love Key West's skewed view of just about everything. Perhaps we should bring back public flogging in his square to honor his memory?

And then through the parking lot toward Wall Street through flocks of cackling chickens.

Another fine day brewing on Mallory Square.

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Old Town Encounters

I am trying to recreate Asa Tift's old boat, well that's what they say the gently decomposing wreck  is, which  lies near the entrance to Mallory Square. My plan is to take one picture each time Cheyenne walks by and today's contribution is a fearsome axe lying on the deck. Nailed down of course, but still... one in the eye for modern safety regulations.

Duval at dawn, blessedly empty.

 Almost empty...

This kind lady came by to say hello and of course I made an arse of myself. I did actually remember talking with her previously but these unscripted encounters aren't my social strong point and I forgot to ask her name or her dog's. I did get her picture though. Maybe next time I will get it together. 

The owner of this home enjoying his porch freaked me out when he uttered  a polite good morning. I got the picture but I had to interact with a stranger and congratulate him on his decorations. I got the mumbled snetence out in more or less good order.

 Morning sunrise at the Curry Mansion on Caroline Street.

Another golden glow, not dappled, at Ocean Key Resort at the end of Duval.

I took a picture of the CVS at 12 Duval which will be replaced by the huge new building across the street at 101 Duval. I found it amusing they are hiring, but of course there will be jobs aplenty at the new store too. I need to get more pictures of this place before it vanishes. The interior is a bit odd with strange angles like a flat iron building. 

Cheyenne wrapped up the walk with a breakfast of very dry very hard pizza. She wan't put off. I like that she can't see a poster and imagine the sandwich to be real. She would be impossible to walk if these two dimensional images meant anything to her.

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Shadows And Light

The  blue  skies and white clouds captivate me in the morning. I took these pictures around seven and I watched the sun come up creating silhouettes all round me on Ramrod Key. Cheyenne hadn't walked for a couple of days so she was ready to stump along  pausing only to let me focus the phone.

This cloud CJ on Little Torch called Godzilla on his Facebook page, a fact I noticed only after I posted this picture as well. I noticed the towering thunderhead, a frequent sight on normal wet summers, driving over the Niles Channel Bridge from Summerland Key and by the time I got out of the car it's height was masked by the trees.

I rarely see shapes in clouds, but this one I saw as a ballet dancer doing a passe, one leg crossed and arms akimbo. Minutes later it was gone, blown to eternity, caught by my lense for one brief moment.

Walking down the street behind my sniffing dog and the sky was almost entirely clear of clouds.

The morning was warm, in the low 80s but I wasn't sweating in the low humidity, and the mosquitoes for some reason (Mosquito Control?) were busy elsewhere. It was a good morning to walk.

I know some people like to see yellow leaves and red hillsides and brown forests this time of year but for me the endless summer of tropical green suits me fine.

Five Brothers Two, the Cuban grocery well known on Southard Street in Key West was closed but the inside light was on throwing a golden glow into the parking lot.

The drive home in sunlight  was delightful. This time of year traffic is often surprisingly light and I'm glad of that.

The first snowfall Up North will bring them down. In droves. Oh well.

Yardie Spice, Homestead

My wife and I had a business meeting in Fort Lauderdale and on our way home I suggested we pick up dinner in Homestead. Usually my wife is the social secretary but I am proud to say this was my idea. Actually this was my second visit to pick up food here, the last time on my Vespa ride to the Everglades in the summer. It was, we both agreed, a good idea.

Yardie Spice (LINK) is easy to find if you look for it on the east side of Krome Avenue as you come into Homestead from the south end of town, just south of the busway. Its a classic hole in the wall, unpretentious and offers good value for great Caribbean food. JP and his wife own the place  and with their mixed backgrounds from Haiti and Jamaica they offer food from both distinct cultures. Next time I will order Griot (pro: gree-oh!) which is a dish of fried pork chunks with spices Cubans could only dream of...

We had a Jamaican beef patty to share and took our hefty load back to the car to make several meals over the next couple of days. Caribbean food is based on rice and beans of course, poor people's food, but where Cuban and Puerto Rican food is relatively spice-free Jamaica and Haiti spice their food up. Goats are survivors in  poor economies and their meat is a staple, slightly gamey like lamb but rich in a curry or when jerked (rubbed with Jamaican spices). We had jerked chicken and curried goat dishes, and as always they were delicious.

Cheyenne got a walk in the lovely industrial suburb of Homestead so she was happy before the two hour drive home...

 ...and we got to eat Caribbean food, a rare treat in our home. This stuff reminds me of sailing the British islands of the Caribbean, curried goat in wraps, called roti in Grenada and St Vincent, mofongo a weird crushed plantain mound sold as a side dish in Puerto Rico and wild chicken curries in the British Virgin Islands on sailing vacations. 

But here we were home at last, with cold beer and a warm dog and the pleasure of bringing the outside world in, on our own plates.