Monday, June 25, 2012

The town of Islamorada: between Key West and Miami and not particularly close to either one. Where shop signs were hand painted years a go and are cracked and rusted. Where business's have names like Bentley's Raw Bar or Michael's Automotive Repair. Where restaurants are shaped like pirate ships. Where the local artists carve tiki men with marijuana leafs on their foreheads and paint lobster cages. (And will give you lessons so that you too can learn to paint your lobster cages!) Where neighborhoods are little lanes with a tiny beach at the end; where neighborhoods don't take kindly to strangers intruding on their tiny beach. Where coconuts will split your skull; where mangoes splat on asphalt. Where wind and rain dominate; where hurricanes take vacations. Where "Well, there isn't much to do here but fish and drink," is followed by a chuckle from the average local. A pit stop on the straight-shot, one-road, impossible-to-get-lost way from Miami to Key West.

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