Dead end streets almost never promise great perspectives. The road to Florida Keys, however is an exception. You follow it having exactly its dead end in mind. The road is an experience by itself. At times it seems that you can see it all the way down to the end. It gives your sight enough space to gain momentum. The weather is always right. You travel along a delicate ribbon, above turquoise water which like a capricious girl can not decide whether to submit to the Atlantic or to the Bay of Mexico. The heavy sunlight falls vertically down and it makes you forgive the bright pink and even selledine guilt of the small houses that you pass along the way.
The islands of the Florida Keys are rarely generous to provide space for more than two or three houses. Even then they usually stand on poles above water. It is a bit like going back to the roots of humanity by remembering that man used to be a land creature before he adapted to live permanently at sea.
At the very end of the road once lived Hemingway.
When he was around, the town was absolute boondocks. Today however, it is a capitol of dolce vita. Splendid hotels dressed with well kempt palm trees defend the access to the beach like invincible fortresses. Wherever you look there are elegant shops and restaurants. Here successful people spend quality time. Everything is beautifully designed and developed. The Key West of today belongs to rich and famous.
The house where Mr. & Mrs. Hemingway lived is kept in its original form. It is occupied by numerous cats - descendants of the writer's beloved pets. They prosper and multiply to be given away to the fans and only a certain number of them become permanent residents of the sanctuarium.
For the romantics of the nineties it is a thrilling attraction to be able to spend time in the very places, where Hemingway lived. To somehow touch his world, to have a taste of real, rough life, which inspired him gives everyone pleasant goose bumps.
If you look carefully, you will find many bronze plates commemorating various events from Hemingway's life:
"Papa got a bit tight here in this bar at that day..."
"Papa knocked out Mr.X during the fight on such and such day..."
"Papa arm wrestled so and so in this place"
"Papa got drunk and slept under this tree..."
Papa this, Papa that...
The wording used on the plates relates to the type of harsh vocabulary used by the writer himself. Today, in the nineties where the society finally grew up to understand the concept of political correctness, the unorderly life of Hemingway and his rough language plays the role of a subtle spice, simply by being so different. The whole character of the writer creates a nice contrast with the elegance of the town and adds an extra touch.
A great deal of work was done to clean up this place. All smelly racks on which the fishermen used to wind dry their nets were removed. There are clean luxury hotels standing in the places, where the fish were cleaned. The beat up shack, where Santiago would mend his nets is not spoiling the view anymore. Security service is very efficient in protecting the area, so it is out of the question for anyone to just get drunk and then fall asleep on the beach. The evening offers many civilized attractions and the air is filled with aroma of tropical flowers. The times, when Hemingway had to breathe the smell of rotten fish are gone. Finally the place that inspired the writer received the attention it deserved.
On your way back from Key West you should stop on one of the little islands just for comparison. You will be surprised with the lack of civilization. You must haggle for the price of fresh fish and in a local bar someone may challenge you to arm wrestle. Like years ago life does not look rich. Unshaven fishermen in blue fatigues and straw hats repair their stinking nets in the back yards. Just like sixty years ago people here still speak with a Spanish accent and have no idea who Ernest Hemingway was. Queens, dandies and elegant ladies zoom along the blue ribbon towards Key West to find inspiration and to kiss the earth that Papa walked. Sun tanned kids are watching shiny cars driving on the other side of the abyssmal gap. Perfect people in beautiful automobiles rush towards Key West passing by the little houses on the way.
....and the old man has no one to tell about the sea...