Approximately 2500 miles, nine days, and a flight of rum behind me, I’m comfortably ensconced in a lovely hotel on Duval Street in Key West with my beautiful wife, Cheryl, who joined me yesterday in Miami.
Georgia flew by, but I did manage to swing by Louisville, a small town that served as the capital of the state in the late 18th century. One of the few photos in my WPA guidebook shows four smiling white ladies sitting on the ledge in front of Louisville’s former slave market, notable for being the oldest such structure still standing in the state at the time (1938). The market stands there today, but the town has downplayed its embarrassing people-selling past.
Florida took several days, but I did get a chance to kayak in the mangroves with my kid’s other mom (nice lady; ex-partner) in New Smyrna Beach and eat at the Best Dairy Queen Ever.
More kayaking tomorrow in different mangroves after a stop at the Hemingway House and all those multi-toed kitties one hears so much about.
Meanwhile, enjoy some pictures.