March 1, 2013
Key West
So we had successfully completed the first leg of our journey on our very first real day in Florida and opened the door to our hotel room. The hotel was located right by the water, separated only by a main road and a construction site. As is typical for many hotels in the U.S., we were able to park our car right in front of our room, since we had direct access to our little “chamber” via an outdoor staircase and walkway on the first floor.
Looking back, I have to say that it wasn’t just the smallest hotel room on our entire trip – it was also the most expensive one. Key West is seriously pricey, and if you’re planning a trip there, it’s definitely smart to book your accommodation in advance. That way, you can compare prices more easily – because yes, it can get even more expensive.
Alarm!! Who’s got the hotel Wi-Fi password? Hand it over!!
After we unloaded the car and dropped everything off in the room, we moved on to something that would soon become a daily ritual over the next three weeks: the search for the hotel Wi-Fi. Who has the code? Do you even need one?
After that question had been cleared up for everyone, a contemplative silence suddenly filled the room. Everyone had instinctively grabbed their phone or tablet and logged into Facebook via mobile internet to check what was new or to upload the latest pics. I have to say, this was the first time I truly realized how the internet can influence and steer a person nowadays—both in positive and negative ways.
Positively, to start with the benefits: staying in touch with family and friends even over thousands of kilometers, being able to access important travel information exactly when needed, and staying informed about what’s happening in the world—and back home. On the flip side, though, it often stole quite a bit of our time. You really had to discipline yourself to “pull the plug,” literally, and continue to experience the trip in real life. But as a team, we mostly managed to strike a good balance—using the internet wisely and in moderation.
“Alright, let’s head into the center of Key West now,” I said to the rest of the crew after about 30 minutes of collectively zoning out online. A unanimous nod and murmur of agreement confirmed my decision, and I immediately headed for the door. A smart psychological move, by the way—it puts a bit of pressure on the others to get moving (aka: get their act together).
Our original idea had been to explore the island by bike, but the late hour and the price of the two-wheelers (minimum rental: 24 hours) made us change plans. In the end, we took inspiration from an old Aral TV commercial and decided to stroll around on foot. I’ll just say: “I’m walking, yes indeed, I’m walking, just you and me…” (whistling).
The weather was mixed — the sun was shining, yes, but there were still plenty of clouds in the sky, and puddles along the way served as lingering remnants of the last rain, which clearly hadn’t been all that long ago. Sometimes, exploring a city on foot gives you a completely different perspective. Okay, Key West isn’t exactly a huge city, but it’s not a village either. We soon realized that the walk to the actual city center was dragging on a bit — or maybe it just felt that way because Melly and Mary kept finding photo ops around every corner, turning each one into a full-blown production, which drastically slowed our pace.
Melly and Mary explain how to take proper vacation photos!
The process was always the same:
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Find a subject — anything with that classic American look and a decent backdrop will do.
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Melly or Mary positions herself in front of the chosen scene, which now only serves as a background.
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The other one takes the photos — not just one or two, mind you, but twenty to thirty.
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A solo or joint review follows to determine which of those photos is the best. If none pass the test, it’s back to step 3 — or even back to square one.
If the perfect shot is finally found, they switch roles and repeat the whole process. Another variation, of course, is that Kathy or I get pulled in when both Melly and Mary want to be in the picture together. But that doesn’t change the fact that steps 3 and 4 must still be followed religiously. By now, the reader might be getting a sense of what lies ahead for me — or rather, us — over the next three weeks.
I have to admit, I always had my camera with me too, but usually I snapped my photos much faster — or perhaps I was just easier to please. That doesn’t mean my shots turned out worse, though… at least I don’t think so. Well, to each their own.
At some point, I had to nudge everyone to pick up the pace. First, because I wanted to see the sights while it was still light out — and second, because I had a specific time in mind to be at Mallory Square, which, according to insider tips, is where you can catch the most beautiful sunset. Sure, there were still clouds in the sky — but hey, sometimes you’ve got to stay optimistic and let yourself be surprised.
Our first hot spot we wanted to visit is actually just a big painted rock that supposedly marks the southernmost point of the United States. I was just thinking — shouldn’t it technically be placed somewhere that actually touches water? I mean, the island doesn’t end right behind the buoy, does it? I know, I’m being a bit of a smartass here, but hey, just a thought experiment. It’s really just a symbol, a tourist magnet — and Cuba is only 90 miles from here. Perfekto. Time for a Cohiba.
But before we could snap our mandatory photo to prove we touched this holy stone, we had to line up first. Strangely enough, almost everyone in front of us seemed to be of Latin American descent. I imagine they were telling their kids that Grandma and Grandpa are only 90 miles away from here — or something along those lines.
Finally, we got the shot.
Now that dusk had begun to set in, it was time to make our way as quickly as possible down the entire main street, Whitehead Street, all the way to the northern end—where not only the tourist epicenter (Old Town Key West) awaited us, but hopefully also the long-awaited sunset.
Sometimes, getting the perfect shot requires a bit of acrobatics…
Halfway through our walk, we were stopped again – because on the right-hand side stood the Hemingway House. In that moment, we found ourselves quite literally walking in the footsteps of Hemingway.
I probably don’t need to say much about Ernest Hemingway, the famous author of books like The Old Man and the Sea – everyone should know him from school. Starting in 1928, Hemingway spent ten years of his life here in Key West with his wife.
When we arrived, it seemed that a wedding party had rented the house and the entire garden to celebrate what was probably the most beautiful moment of their lives in this historic setting – and in a rather decadent fashion, too.
My girls were so eager to peek over the wall and spy on the event that the way they went about it was absolutely hilarious. It looked like something straight out of a comedy sketch. Eventually, they managed to get their pictures, so we could continue our journey toward Mallory Square.
The closer we got to our destination, the more tourists filled the street – and the more it started to feel like a classic holiday destination. From here on, the first pubs, bars, and souvenir shops began to appear.
We didn’t quite make it on time, as dusk had already set in and with all the clouds in the sky, we wouldn’t have seen a perfect sunset anyway. As darkness fell, it got a bit cooler, and the fresh breeze did its part too. The view, the play of sunlight behind the clouds that created a colorful spectacle, was indeed beautiful—but, as always, when a place is overrun with tourists and all you hear is constant chatter, I just can’t enjoy the atmosphere.
But what we can say as a group: we were there, we saw everything. Period. Checked off the list.
Now we were able to take the evening at a slower pace. We strolled through Old Town without any rush, browsing the shops until we stopped in front of a bar with a glowing neon sign above the door that read “Coyote Ugly.” Through the open window, we had a perfect view of the bar — or rather, the counter — where two girls, dressed more or less provocatively, were performing a little show and dancing.
Kathy saw her chance and started talking to the bouncer, asking if she could dance on the counter as well. I have to admit, at first he looked like he had no idea what this tourist was trying to tell him. But after some determined hand gestures and a lot of miming, he finally understood. He asked the manager for permission — and just like that, Kathy was allowed to join the two girls on the bar.
When Melly and Kathy are dancing on the bar…
Of course, Melly—with her Dancing Queen gene running through her veins—wouldn’t miss out on this moment. She immediately jumped up on the counter too. And then the wild dancing began. Once again, the regular guests had no idea what hit them. You could tell by the looks on their faces—they were confused, maybe even a little overwhelmed—but somehow still entertained.
Guys, let me tell you: send girls up onto a counter to dance, and they’ll be totally happy afterwards. This phenomenon was confirmed to me by Kathy and Melly themselves as they hopped off the counter and came over to me, beaming. Their first words? A big smile and: “Oh my God, that was aaaawesome!!!” Strange, but true. 😄
By now, though, we were all starting to feel the tiredness kick in—a long day was clearly catching up with us, and it hit like someone flipped a switch. But before we could call it a night, there was one thing left to do: satisfy our hunger at the Hard Rock Café in Key West.
After we were assigned a lovely spot under the trees and our order had finally arrived, something happened that — in my humble opinion (not that anyone asked) — was completely out of place in that moment: it started pouring rain.
It’s in moments like these, when the rain appears out of nowhere and hits you with such spontaneity, that you realize just how much energy people carry within them — how fast they can suddenly move and how many things they’re able to juggle at once.
Luckily, we were mostly protected by a sunshade that, despite the darkness, still hovered above us like a brave little soldier. Now and then, when a nasty side wind hit us, we definitely felt the downpour — and not just a little. After about five minutes, the madness was over. Everything was soaked through, the terrace was empty — except for our table — but soon people started crawling out from their hiding spots, and the colorful hustle and bustle returned to the streets.
Since we had finished eating and didn’t really feel like sitting there alone any longer, we decided to head back to the hotel by taxi. But before we could call one, Melly wanted to grab a Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt — and as you might already guess, the process of deciding and finding just the right one took a while.
To spare you the details, let me just skip ahead and say: yes, she did find a nice T-shirt — and also picked up two or three other little souvenir items. Finally, we could go.
It didn’t take long to find a taxi, and driving it was a friendly American woman in her mid-forties. We ended up having a really lively conversation with her. After about 10 to 15 minutes, we finally arrived back at the hotel, said goodbye, and were happy to finally see our beds.
And then came the moment of realization.
“Has anyone seen my Hard Rock Cafe bag?” Melly suddenly asked.
“Uhhh… nope,” came the unanimous reply from everyone.
“Fuck, shit, I left the bag in the taxi,” Melly shouted in frustration.
“Well,” I said, “then either the next passenger or the driver will be thrilled. It’s a nice souvenir.”
What else could we do at that point? We didn’t know her name, nor the taxi number. Gone is gone. Taxis are like black holes — once something falls in, it disappears forever into the abyss… or, more likely, into someone’s wallet. Return it? Completely unheard of.
March 2, 2013
Key West
Having breakfast outside in early March… there’s just something magical about it.
After a relaxing night marked by heavy rain, we were all feeling refreshed, and Melly had come to terms with her loss. Freshly showered and neatly dressed, we headed to the hotel’s indoor breakfast area, which offered a view of the pool. And it was a beautiful moment—just two days ago, we had been freezing outdoors at zero degrees in Germany, and now we were sitting under the open sky, with light cloud cover but pleasantly warm temperatures, enjoying our coffee and an American breakfast.
Okay, the word “enjoying” and “American breakfast” were two concepts that didn’t quite line up for me. Cups, plates, and cutlery were all disposable, and by the end of it, our table looked more like a giant pile of garbage. The breakfast filled us up, but I wouldn’t exactly say we looked truly happy afterward.
Then, finally ready to continue our tour, we left Key West—after properly stowing everything in the car—via the same road we had taken to get to the island the day before. Since we were now familiar with the route, it didn’t feel as exciting anymore and didn’t quite get the same level of attention from us. Melly and Mary had completely checked out just a few miles outside Key West, their faces practically glued to the side windows. Only Kathy stayed awake with me. Well, I didn’t really have the option to nod off—because if I did, it would most likely have been for good.
Up ahead, I saw the Seven Mile Bridge reappear on the horizon. Almost instinctively, just before we were about to drive onto it, I spotted a turnoff on the right—leading to a slightly hidden parking area with a stunning view of the bridge. Since no car was tailgating us, I slammed on the brakes, yanked the steering wheel to the right, and just barely managed to make it into the parking lot. Smooth move—everyone was instantly wide awake. From an ADAC safety test perspective, I’d say: passed with flying colors. The luggage didn’t even complain, except for a gentle groan as it was pressed against the back seat.
Everyone was immediately thankful I pulled off that maneuver. The break—and especially the view—was absolutely worth it. And, as if on cue, the long-awaited blue sky finally broke through. The sun lit up the scene as if it wanted to erase the last two days of gloomy weather from our memories. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
And then, to top it all off, a group of Harley-Davidson riders rolled into the lot. That was it—there was no holding us back. The bikers were instantly charmed by my girls, who just had to get a photo with the bikes. The riders didn’t hesitate and gladly agreed. Okay… I had to have one too. But hey, why not? Somehow, I do look like I belong on a bike like that. (laughs)
Just to mention it on the side: the bikers were actually regular businessmen in their everyday lives, heading to Key West, where their wives were already waiting for them — they had flown ahead because they had no interest whatsoever in the motorcycle tour. I immediately had the feeling that the men were quite happy about that arrangement anyway. A proper all-male trip. Whether the guys envied me or pitied me for being the total opposite — tagging along with three women — I honestly couldn’t tell you in hindsight.
After that, the tour continued and we were almost at the end of the Keys. It was time to drive back along that alligator-infested, fenced-in stretch of road. That’s when Melly spoke up and simply said that she urgently needed to go — and you know exactly what I mean.
But it was already too late. We had just passed the point of no return, and now there was no turning back. We had to finish this stretch first and just hope that a gas station, a burger joint, or some other sort of establishment would appear at the end — anywhere Melly could release the pressure.
And the road… just. wouldn’t. end.
On the way there, it hadn’t felt nearly as long. But now it stretched on forever — especially for Melly. It was the Highway to Hell.
Melly was suffering.
Melly was in agony.
Melly whimpered.
Melly was on the verge of tears.
But the road kept going.
Honestly, I think she was close to exploding.
And then — finally — in the distance, we saw it. The end of the road. Houses. Civilization.
And then… the holy sign appeared. The golden M of salvation.
McDonald’s.
I swerved straight into the parking lot, and before I had even come to a full stop, Melly leapt out of the car and vanished into the building.
We parked and followed soon after.
And I swear — I have never seen a woman look so relieved, so free, so radiant, as Melly did when she walked out of that bathroom.
I have to admit — the whole situation was pretty hilarious.
How the story continues, how we made it to Everglades City that evening and experienced an epic airboat tour the next day… you’ll find out in part four of my travel diary.
