Exile

                                  

It must have been twenty years ago my wife and I were driving around Eastern Europe. We rented a car in Prague and set out to explore the newly opened up world that had been locked away behind the Iron Curtain. It was September and tourist season was over which gave us the flexibility to drive, find a hotel and spend the night without worrying about reservations. The trip also had an air of adventure as travel in Eastern Europe was still a rarity and we crossed paths with horses and carts, East German Trabant two-stroke cars and lots of Russian Ladas. Our teal colored Opel ( a super powered Chevy Metro hatchback) stood out like a beacon among the dull brown and gray Communist cars. People stared as we passed. 

We toured Hungary and tasted wine and  crossed Lake Balaton on a ferry. We drove through Slovakia through their new border with the Czech Republic after their recent split. It rained and the roads were muddy. We stopped and changed money, in Poland we were handed bundles of zlotys in different shapes and colors. I was puzzled fearing being duped. No they reassured me new money and old and they were honest and correct. In the Tatras Mountains of Southern Poland we bought matching sweaters and socks it was so cold and we had no winter clothes. We looked like gray fuzzy caterpillars in the uncured wool. It was all an adventure and we hardly knew what we were doing. Budapest confused us and Auschwitz gave us indigestion.

 

This was in the days before the Internet and we ended up in Karlsbad, known nowadays as Carlovy Vary or in English Charles' Baths, It was a spa town with natural hot springs stuck in a narrow river valley, a canyon almost in my memory. We walked the winding streets and felt like we had walk-on parts in Death in Venice so we should have been dressed in Edwardian clothes, starched collars and flounces, instead of modern sloppy wear. We bought crystal glasses as the Czech crown was not a powerful currency against the US dollar. My wife brought them home wrapped in a sheepskin rug (for our dog) and we have the glasses, large for water, medium wine and small for liquor in a  complete set, to this day. We also brought home a slightly more macabre souvenir too.

 

We hiked up the side of the canyon on a wooded trail to some sort of overlook mentioned in the guidebook. I had thoughts of the Reichenbach Falls where Sherlock Holmes met his death but there was no water here, just moss and pine trees and a somber encroaching dusk. We met two women on the trail, one about our age around 35, and her mother, older grayer wiry and walking easily along the narrow path. We all paused to admire the view. "I grew up here," the older woman said as we looked at the little town in the valley. She told us her story.

 

They were German Jews so you know this isn't going to end well, especially when you understand they grew up as Germans in a part of Czechoslovakia populated by ethnic Germans. Hitler annexed the Sudetenland in 1938 and absorbed the ethnic Germans into the Fatherland while expelling the Slavs to the rump of their country. It was to redress a historic wrong, Hitler said, arguing all Germans should be united. Of course that didn't include Jews and the older woman talking to us told how she escaped. Thanks to her father who anticipated the horrors to come she was sent to America never to see her family again. She found their names in a concentration camp ledger and the numbers tattooed on their arms but she also found the record of their murder. 

 

Why just you? I asked my head full of puzzlement. There wasn't enough money to pay the Nazi bribes to get everyone out nor the money to buy the family tickets to America. Her parents had to hope for the best and they wanted their daughter to live. There was no exit for them. We stood looking out over the city and listened to her stories of life in pre-war Karlsbad. Her daughter dropped in comments to her mother about how she had never spoken of this or that. We walked back down the trail and as we strolled back to our hotel our guide pointed out this and that building from her store of memories. The Germans gathered here she said, our friends lived there she said as we walked the narrow streets. We were transported back 50 years. The memories were powerful.

I think of that encounter often these days asking myself what should I do as I watch clouds gather and intolerance and anger grow and fear replace confidence, while trust becomes too high a price to pay for joy. We have collectively forgotten the past and I fear that means we are doomed to relive it. What to do, I wonder and I have no answers. I now stand a very good chance of becoming a victim of my own complacency - "That could never happen here" - and I trust it won't. But it doesn't look good right now.

Trees In Old Town

No summer clouds, just perfect golden light in the later afternoon in winter.

I posted a picture to Instagram similar to this with a comment regarding the tree commission. Its an organization in the city that is required to sign off on trees that need to be cut down. The need to destroy old growth in the city seems to vary and there is a constant stream of anonymous complaints in the Citizen's Voice about trees that have been removed. 

An interesting side note I find is when you look back at photographs of old Key West, say around 1900 you will notice that there were far fewer trees in those days. Streets were white coral rock ground down to gravel lined with white picket fences as we see today. However there was much less green canopy. Below the 600 block of Eaton Street at that time with  a low wall in front of 620:

Photo Key West Library

I am told the reason for the lack of greenery is explained in part by the lack of water. Piped water only came to Key West in 1942 for the Navy Base. The war propelled the public expense of running water down the highway from the South Florida Aquifer. Before then everyone caught rain water and if they failed the cost of buying water was not easy to digest apparently. So it wasn't worth wasting on decorative foliage.

Happily these days despite or because of the tree commission there are plenty of trees in town. I'd always like more of course but I don't deal with the aggravation of leaves and neighbors and stuff.

Carsten Lane captivating Rusty:

But you have to admit a little greenery or a lot makes all the difference to the appearance of a home.

Key West Bight

Summer calm in Key West, daily highs around 80, nighttime lows near 70. Perfect.

A walk on the boardwalk through Key West Bight, known to some as the Historic Seaport. 

Public toilets - lovely! convenient! However the idiot graffiti artists asks us to flash after each use.

 So why does anyone plan not to flush? 

The harbor water taxi which ferries people to and from anchored boats. A smooth dry ride.

A cabin top picnic enjoying the almost setting sun.

I liked the picture and apologize for the fuzziness. Harbor rats doing their thing. 

Reminds me of the good old days.

There's lots to do: drink, feed the birds or fish, take pictures, watch the boats...

Or you could attempt all at once:

They call the sunset boats packed with passengers head boats or cattle boats. 

I stopped for the pause that refreshes, focaccia at Pizza Duetto my current downtown favorite snack.

The owner is from Verona and we talk Italian together and discuss the merits of emigration.

He misses New York sometimes even as he makes a success of Greene Street. 

Boats and bicycles. 

Selling tickets for the headboats as the sun sets and makes everything look gold.

Conch Cottage Walk

I have been spending some time in Key West this winter and the city has been quite pleasant. As I live 23 miles out my view of the state of Key West daily life is gleaned from the comments of friends and a few of my own observations.

It does seem like visitors this year are either not keeping rentals during their stay or not bringing cars to the city as parking has not seemed to be the usual crazy hassle. Plus the Citizen's Voice anonymous column in the newspaper seems to be carrying fewer parking complaints which is nice. 

Complaints instead have focused on the Tree Commission always they say trigger happy about cutting trees it's supposed to protect. Then there was the giant storm in a tea cup when Commissioner Jimmy Weekly a former mayor suspected of seeking that office again decided to write a sanctuary city ordinance. As reported by Gwen Filosa in the Keys News, the local outlet of the Miami Herald:

“I would like to see us declare ourselves a sanctuary city,” said Commissioner Jimmy Weekley. “I would like to see us do that, really send a message out: We’re going to protect everyone.”

Weekley, who was mayor when the One Human Family motto was adopted in 2000, said he is working on a proposal to outlaw so-called gay-to-straight conversion therapy of children in the city.

Key West leaders have often taken up national and world issues by issuing official opinions, such as an April 2015 resolution calling for a ban on city-paid travel to Indiana in light of the state’s “religious freedom” law backed by then-Gov. Mike Pence, who is the now vice president-elect.

You can see where Weekley was coming from as the Trump Administration starts working through it's human rights agenda on the all the tired old social agenda items of the religious right, abortion, gays etc etc...In the ordinary course of things the rather harmless sanctuary notion wouldn't raise a ripple in Key West but this no longer is a town of bohemians and artists and livers of alternative lives... The monied classes are in town in winter and they don't like this notion of sanctuary when illegal immigration is soon to be the target of the Trump sweep. So they all got up on their hind legs and started raising Cain about this peculiar little eccentricity of Weekley's.

When I lived in the People's Republic of Santa Cruz, the California town was a sanctuary which meant not too much of a practical nature even for those without papers as far as I could tell and I was a reporter back then. I have no idea what being a sanctuary city will do for Key West. For now the Trump hasn't said anything about Cuba so migrant landings will now require the rafters to be detained for repatriation. I doubt they will get a free pass from the city.

I also read with relief this time that the city engineers are recommending no change to South Roosevelt and state DOT plans to build elaborate medians and turning lanes are not going to be approved. I salute their common sense. 

Keys Fisheries

It happened that the day of the Big Wind, Monday, Rusty and I drove my wife to her job in Marathon where she had previously left her car. There's a walk Rusty likes past the commercial fishing traps which are full of smells, and I like it especially when I want to look at open water. Monday was good for that and i got a bunch of windy day pictures:

 Waiting out the 30+ mph winds:

 Fishing flaots tied down to not fly away:

Lobster pots by the hundred:

 The pier at Keys Fisheries which is also the breakwater for the marina:

 Last night we came for dinner and it was quite a bit calmer though the sunset was obscured by plastic windows to keep the breeze out of the oyster bar area upstairs. 

 Rusty and smokers (at the table next door) are permitted in this essentially outdoor bar. He was perfect as usual. 

My sister-in-law liked her Funky Buddha beer and oysters, a dish I find about as appetizing as it looks, cold snot flavored with sea salt. The fact the oysters are alive and are to be stunned with lemon makes the whole operation even more ghastly in my opinion, which is not shared by most people, I am aware.

 The crab claws were goodm the smoked fish superlative and the mussels were excellent. 

You turn north at the Stuffed Pig on Highway One in Marathon to find this place at the dead end. It's well worth it. They are famous for their lobster reuben sandwich and it really is quite good too.  

I was sorry we had to leave, I could have lingered over a Funky Buddha too.