We woke up still en route to Key West, with an estimated arrival time of 10:30 a.m.
We started our day with breakfast in the Cosmopolitan Restaurant. When we sat down, we quickly realized Barb wasn’t there. Uh-oh. At first we weren’t sure what was going on, but we later learned she’d gotten up extremely early the previous day, and the combination of travel and exhaustion had triggered a bad migraine
After breakfast, we sat on our veranda and watched the ship arrive in Key West. It started off with sprinkles and clouds, but the sun slowly began to break through.
Next, we watched the ship dock. At first, all we could see was the middle mooring. Two men stood on it while a small boat delivered the heavy lines. They tied them off, and once everything was secure, the boat returned and took them away. It was quiet, precise, and surprisingly fascinating to watch.
Barb stayed onboard for what we later labeled her “crack-up day.” (This is a term my mom coined — she schedules them on every vacation, so I’m very used to the concept.) After I explained it to Barb, she laughed and fully embraced the logic.
As soon as we walked off the ship, we all met up. Bob headed off to the Harry S. Truman Little White House, while the rest of us took the easy 15-minute walk toward the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum.
On the way, we passed a massive banyan tree with aerial roots hanging down like curtains and branches stretching wide for shade.
(For fun: banyan trees are native to India and Southeast Asia — but every one in Key West exists because someone brought it there.)
Almost immediately, we were also reminded that we were in Key West by the chickens and roosters—everywhere, loud, fearless, and completely protected. Originally brought over by early settlers for food, they’ve become part of the island’s personality, strutting through neighborhoods like they own the place.
Tim—Glenn’s brother—and his partner Sam live in Key West, so they met up with us at the Hemingway house for a visit.
The Hemingway house itself was fascinating—hot, a little musty because of the cats. Hemingway married four times, had multiple children, and somehow packed a lifetime of stories into that one house. The famous cats are descendants of his original six-toed cat, Snow White. Those extra toes—called polydactyl paws—make their feet look oversized, almost like mittens. About half the cats on the property still have them, and they wander freely, clearly in charge.
After the tour, we were free to see his writing room, which can be rented out. It was interesting, I really liked it!
After the tour, we went to lunch, meeting Bob at the Santiago’s Bodega. We ordered bottomless sangrias—dangerously good—and the food was so delicious and unique!
After lunch, we grabbed to go cups, and headed to Duval Street. On the way the Sangria hit me, Debbie smacked into some yard/tree clippings, and I smacked my arm in window that was sticking out. I spilled the sangria down my white capris!
We continued to Duval and dropped the boys off at Jack’s. They were looking for the Jaguars vs. Bills game.
The girls did some shopping including buying a tide pen to save my white capris.
We found some fun things along our journey:
The funny part about seeing Spider-Man today is that it was Jacks actual birthday party that we had to miss and his theme was Spider-Man. It was meant to be.
Then we stumbled on this jewel:
We meandered in a few shops, until we worked our way back to the ship. It was so nice to be back in the air conditioning and take a much-needed reset—naps, showers, quiet time—before dinner.
That night we ate at the Normandie Restaurant, which felt like the perfect way to end a full port day. Barb was finally feeling better after her migraine, which was a huge relief.
The evening entertainment sealed the day. Rockumentary had so many songs from Pat Benatar and Joan Jett, and I sang my heart out the whole time. At one point I looked down our row of friends and caught Tracie doing the exact same thing. We have very similar high school music memories, and in that moment it all came rushing back.
After that, Debbie, Barb, and I sang our hearts out at the ABBA sing-along. No holding back, lots of laughing, and exactly as fun as it sounds.
What a fun day. Now it’s time to rest our voices — tomorrow we go to Bimini!
Happiness is Possible 