“Here, you’ll meet many crazy people” – those were almost the first words from the manager who greeted us at half past ten in the evening, when we, exhausted from the long journey, the traffic jams in Miami, and eager to warm up in the local heat, finally arrived at the hotel with the fragrant name Almond Tree. “Welcome! You’ll love Key West!”
How could you not love Key West in November? How could you not love Key West? How could anyone remain indifferent to the amazing geo-social-sexual-architectural eclecticism of the southernmost town in Florida? The first thing that catches the eye is the abundance of wooden houses, the overwhelming majority of which are painted white. It immediately reminded me of New Orleans, although I had never been there. However, I was right in my assumptions, since I had been looking at postcards. Two-story houses with columns, verandas, and balconies above the verandas. Narrow streets – one lane in each direction.
Cyclists. Polite drivers. Very polite drivers. On the way to lunch, as I entered a courtyard with a bunch of small restaurants, I tripped and fell. Having a habit of not rushing to get up, but first understanding where I am and what’s going on, I lay flat on the concrete surface for a few extra seconds. During these few seconds, someone stopped behind me (or, more precisely, behind my heels) and asked if I was okay, if I needed help. Since everything was fine with me, and the necessary help was immediately provided, I shouted, not seeing who I was answering, that I was “OK” and got up, rubbing my bruised knee. It warmed my heart from the unexpected attention.
There are cats in Key West, but the main function of the small urban non-human residents is… roosters and hens. At first, it seemed that the feathered creatures belonged to the hotels and restaurants, where they strolled around with the air of owners, as if they were at home, with a clear conscience. But later it turned out that they just live in the city, like pigeons, belonging to no one, wandering wherever they please – on their own. They were not seen in illicit relationships with cats. The cats I saw here were all black and very lazy. However, the local hotel’s cross-eyed cat turned out to be rather skittish, probably because of poor vision.
I noticed only one homeless person. He was sitting with a very conscious look on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, holding a small canvas in his hand, painting with a filled hand. Perhaps he was not homeless, though his appearance spoke for itself. But perhaps I should refrain from labeling people like that – artistic people are often like this, you can’t tell at first glance. Maybe there are other homeless people in the city. But I didn’t come across any others.
Funny people. The first funny person who struck our imagination was the hotel manager who greeted us upon arrival. He immediately allowed us to park the car for free (it normally costs 5 dollars a day, but still, nice), registered us for free, although it turned out that registration was open until 10 p.m. and a staff call would cost an additional 25 dollars. He gave us towels for the pool. (Ah, we weren’t even sure there was a pool, let alone a jacuzzi.)
I wandered along the “promenade,” which here is called Duval Street – the one where all the main shops and restaurants are located. Of course, it’s clear that people don’t come to Key West if they’re poor, so the stores are accordingly upscale. It has historically been the case that Americans don’t like to pay much for food, so the prices at the restaurant didn’t shock us too much. For 30 dollars, we ate a huge salad with crab and shrimp (we took most of it with us) and excellent lasagna (more than half of which was also taken back to the hotel in a plastic container). Delicious garlic bread and lemon water – for free.
Yes, the internet here is quite a struggle. There’s none in the hotel, and in the nearby café, it’s 20 cents per minute, which means 6 dollars (!!!) for half an hour (!!!). In the restaurant where we had lunch, the internet is half as cheap, but there’s no wireless – only one cable, and the rest are on built-in computers. But what would I do without my laptop? This text is being typed in Word. Then – again 6 dollars for half an hour. 32 dollars a day. You can’t forbid living beautifully.
The sunset is gone. It burned out. Quieted down. It faded. The sky turned dark blue. The sunset was indescribable. I sat facing west, where to my left was the pool and to my right the jacuzzi. There, where I could hear fragments of phrases from American men. There, where, at a small white table, I tapped away at the keys of my laptop. At that moment, an opus about the city of Key West was being born. Tomorrow at this time, while the Almond Tree hotel gives out free beer and wine, I will be standing on the pier with a camera in my hands. No one can promise me an unforgettable sunset for tomorrow. No weather forecast in the world can guarantee it. But I want it. So, it will be.