Fiesta Key, FL
July 11-22
http://www.koa.com/where/fl/09250/

The entire Fiesta Key, about halfway between Islamorada and Marathon Keys, is a campground. The spot we reserved is #173, on the topmost rightmost spot of the map, on the end, on the water. Unfortunately, we learned when we got here that this will be the last season for the resort, since it's been sold to a developer :(

Balancing on the edge of a cornflake on the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico :) The Keys are really an extension of the boot of Florida, mostly below sea level by about two or three feet, with a few land masses popping out to the surface. It makes for miles of calm lagoons, no tides or waves. There's more to the chain of islands that are connected by the Overseas Highway from Key Largo to Key West -- there are lots of little Keys you can only get to by boat or by swimming for it. We assume all the tiny islands are "Dink" Key -- some of them aren't even big enough to have a name (there is actually a No Name Key). Other Florida Keys on Overseas Highway route.

Views left, right, and center: view to one side:

Back view with the Beachhouse Bar and Grill on the left and the pool off on the right, and an view from the "office window" :)

More campground views:

God's Discotheque: Sunset on Fiesta Key:

Sunrise on Fiesta Key:

Views from the Seven-Mile Bridge to the Lower Keys:

Went to Big Pine Key to see the miniature deer at the National Key Deer Refuge. Lots of debris on the side of the road from Hurricane Dennis, and a sign at a church saying "Pray for N FL" (North Florida? or the NFL?) The Visitor's Center for the Deer Refuge was a joke -- part of a strip mall with a laundromat, Chinese restaurant, and a Winn-Dixie, and open, apparently, whenever the staff isn't too hung over or undermotivated to show up. Also, creepily enough, a taxidermied model of one of the elusive deer in this area that grow to be about three feet tall and no more.

Apparently, "Key Deer" refers to THE single deer we did see while driving (slowly) around the area, and not plural. Also realized -- DUH! -- that "DEXER" on the road with a big "X" meant "Deer Crossing" -- could not figure out what "dexer" meant for several miles though.

Went to Ramrod Key afterwards to the Boondocks Grille and Draft House, with a dinosaur theme in a tiki hut atmosphere. Ordered their famed onion rings, but they were more of an onion loaf than the giant breaded bracelets we were expecting. They were more of the type you eat by twirling them around your fork like linguine.

The Key Lime Pie Factory in Islamorada, a divey-looking exterior in a strip mall with the best Key lime pie to be had, and assorted Key Lime Krap -- candles, lotion, soaps:

Americana Sign Watch:
The Rip Off Upholstery Shop (in Marathon)

Also -- there are lots of "botels" here where you BOat your way in instead of MOtoring your way into a motel. You see boats being towed down the road and eased into the water and kicking up plumes of water behind them in the water. It's the ultimate Man Thing, the fishing boat: motors, beer, killin' stuff, and possibly, maybe, dinner.

The new Harry Potter book was released July 16. Picked up a copy at Hooked on Books at MM 82.6 and took it home to read in one gulp.

Went for a glass bottomed boat ride on the Key Largo Princess. On the drive to Key Largo, laughed at the bus in front of us selling advertising space -- would you trust an ad company that couldn't spell the word "size" ? There is one obvious aftereffect of Hurricane Dennis and the accompanying Jimmy-Buffeted winds: on the drive towards the Upper Keys, the aura of Eden is marred somewhat by the smell of kelp washed up and rotting on the shore.

The boat trip went out to Molasses Reef at John Pennekamp State Park, the United States' first undersea park, which covers the Florida reef system starting south of Miami Beach and following the Keys southwest, past Key West. Several areas along the reef system have been given specific names, like Molasses Reef, named for a ship carrying molasses that ran aground here. 

A glass bottomed boat tour sounded like such a great idea -- a boat ride, and a way to see fish and coral without even getting wet. I'd forgotten how seasick you can get on one of those boats once it really gets a-humpin' its way across the sea. At first, I thought I was going to be fine. The water outside was gorgeous jewel tones -- emerald and turquoise, and finally a sky blue that you could see whooshing by through the ice-cube trays of the glass bottom. There were about 50 people milling about on both decks, but I stayed down where there was air conditioning and less rocking motion. But as soon as we reached the reef and the emcee started discussing what was visible from the bottom of the boat, I had that horrible full body sweat come over me, where your tongue curls up and you feel...not quite right. So I went out to watch the water churn out behind the boat and get some fresh air. (I was the first one to make a bolt for it, by the way.) One of the guides came over to me and said it was really hot standing there (in the tone of a person who'd seen this many times before) and suggested I go to the upper deck and sit in the shade and get some fresh air. Which I did. I went and sat down under the canvas cover and put my head down and closed my eyes and chanted the inner mantra of every inner-ear disturbance (I will not throw up I will not throw up I will not throw up). Did not care if people rifled through my purse downstairs (I will not throw upIwillnotthrowupIwillnotthrowup) or robbed me blind (Iwillnotthrowup). All I cared about was keeping my head from spinning off my body and my eyes from rolling around in my skull. All around me I could hear retching and children crying (IWNTUIWNTUIWNTU!!!).

At one point, I lifted my head, trying to tell myself to get a grip, and noticed there was a girl next to me, half passed out, so I figured what the hey, and put my head back down. The woman who'd advised me to go upstairs was handing out shaved ice. The top deck was suddenly packed with people huffing and puffing into "souvenir bags."

Wes and Keighley were downstairs the whole time, having a great time and feeling fine. They would later tell me that by the time the trip was finished, they were one of about ten people left down in the viewing area -- everyone else was topside, barfing their guts out.

When we finally docked back where we'd picked up the Barf-o-Rama Boat, the girl next to me looked at me and said, "THAT was fun, huh?"

But hey, I did NOT throw up :)

Late lunch at Papa Joe's Restaurant and Marina included their seafood bisque (recipe online here) and the best Key Lime pie to date (better than the Key Lime Pie Factory). Criteria: the pie should be a thick, dirty beige custard, not whipped into an airy fluff. Extra points for graham cracker -- as opposed to vanilla wafer -- crust, and points taken off for a fake-out green lime wedge garnish).

They also had an impressive saltwater aquarium full of clown fish and other fish (including a very cool blue and white marbled fish) maintained by an aquarium company called Aquapros. There was a blue tang that acted every bit as absentminded as Dory in Finding Nemo.

Went to Mangrove Mama's on Sugarloaf Key, where we had the (second) best Key lime pie. The crust was a coarse crumble of what tasted like cinnamon graham crackers, which almost compensated for the (real, regular) lime garnish. The piped-in music was classic rock: AC/DC, Rare Earth, Allman Brothers, Led Zep.

Drove down to Key West and checked out the hurricane damage (still some cleanup going on) and the juxtaposition of standard businesses sharing space with knock-down tie-dye dress kiosks. A lot of Cuban influence -- restaurants called Cuba! Cuba! and Kim's Kuban Sandwiches.

Americana Sign Watch:
The Pelican Poop Cafe

Porky's Barbecue, in Marathon, right before the 7-Mile Bridge:

The No Name Pub on No Name Key, an out-of-the-way pub and pizza joint that is literally papered with dollar bills, some signed or otherwise personalized before stapling them to the walls and ceilings:

Saw another Key Deer on the side of the road on No Name Key:

The sun sinking on Fiesta Key and the Beachhouse Bar and Grill: