Heaters Fired Up!

When I travel, I use several resources to find local places to eat and drink: Locals, Trip Advisor, and Yelp! The majority of reviews are pretty accurate, in my experience, and sometimes even a disgruntled review will send you somewhere because it can't really be that bad, can it? Much to my dismay, the latest reviews of Salty's Waterfront Grille, which had a promising name for this shrimp hunter, were breaking news. "Burned down at 3am this morning," one review announced earlier in January. Sadness. Didn't appear to be arson or a kitchen fire... Wonder if it had anything to do with the patio heaters. Seriously, people - buy a sweatshirt. Grandfathered past the current building code and immune from statutes requiring sprinklers and an alarm system, they're lucky that no one was injured.

Total loss.

Apparently some boats in the adjacent 7 Mile Marina were destroyed by proximity fires started by falling embers. The pelicans don't seem to mind this ghost town of piers.

Sunset Grille and Raw Bar

Sunset on the northeast side of the 7-Mile Bridge

Sunsets are always a big deal when there's ocean involved. Even more so when you're on vacation. My affinity for capturing sunsets on film (ha! What an anachronism!) is well-known. And even though I swear that I've already seen the best sunset in the world at Ía, Santorini, Greece, I always rush to a good viewing spot when the time comes, especially when there's ocean involved. On the south side of Highway 1, just before the 7-Mile bridge, The Sunset Grille and Raw Bar is probably the most popular place on Marathon to watch the sun slip into the water. You don't have to be seated inside; there's space on the shore by the parking lot. I was almost late in arriving due to a frustrating, unplanned detour (seriously, if you miss your turn before the bridge, there's no way to redeem yourself. You're stuck going all the way over before you can turn around). I had to park a ways down the road, and ended up too late to see the sunset with cocktail in hand, as I'd planned. But I think I ended up with a better view. And they certainly weren't running our of cocktails here. 

Almost gone...

Post-sunset calm

About the venue: The Sunset Grille and Raw bar is something more than a restaurant with outdoor seating, and something slightly less than an "experience". It has an outdoor pool open to its guests, poolside seating, an indoor bar, an outdoor bar, a projection TV set up at one edge of the pool, and great sunset views, of course. Also, they have music. In this case, it was a guy singing Jimmy Buffet covers, of course. And if you've ever wanted to hear any song sung in a Buffet-esque style, this guy's your guy. "Every Breath You Take" (The Police) or "Sixth Avenue Heartache" (The Wallflowers), anyone?

Oh, and there's this. I think it's just seasonal, but maybe it's a year-round feature.

After the sunset, it was a lot easier to find a seat, and I plunked down at the Tiki hut-looking outdoor bar next to the pool. Shrimp, of course, local raw oysters, and a fruity drink called a Tiki Parrot. And then some oddball inside-out roll off their sushi menu that involved tempura shrimp, mango, and Thai sweet chili sauce. They had more authentic offerings on their large sushi menu, but I'm pretty skeptical about sushi from places I don't know or that aren't in California. Weird, I know. But I'll eat oysters pretty much anywhere next to an ocean.

I would have plated this with the sauce underneath so that you could see the pretty inside of the roll. And so would any of my sushi chef friends at home. It was reasonably tasty.

These are the Beaches in your Neighborhood

I understand why most visitors to the Keys search for lodging on a beachfront or near a state park with considerable public beach space; they're looking for postcard-perfect settings. But all over the Keys, you can find little, public, neighborhood beaches sparsely populated with locals and folks who don't mind making a last-minute turn off the highway and squeezing into a tiny parking lot. There's sun, sand, and ocean. And sometimes local puppies playing fetch. I don't really need much more than that.

Coco Plum Beach

Am I supposed to bring this to you? You look like you want a wet tennis ball.

P.S. - and if you're really lucky, you'll see an old man in a turquoise G-string. And you'll see him get into his car without even donning some shorts. Sorry I didn't get a picture of that.

Murals on Marathon

It's easy to fly by all the brightly colored buildings as you try not to rear end anyone in the inconsistently paced traffic that is the Overseas Highway. After all, most buildings are painted pink, purple, blue, yellow... as you'll often see in tropical places. But it is worth taking your time on Marathon because there's so many buildings with original murals by local artists. Buildings throughout the Keys have signs or murals painted on them, but I noticed that Marathon in particular supported this beautiful street art. I won't tell you where all of these paintings are, partly because there's fun in finding them yourself, and partly because I didn't remember to jot that information down. Do be careful slowing, stopping, and making quick U-turns to spot these things. And don't be afraid to fly past one and pull a U-ey to go back. If there's one driving adage in Florida, it's never underestimate the power of a U-turn.

A closer look at part of the previous mural that was hidden by the dumpster. Cute! 

Many of the buildings with murals housed dive shops or fish-related businesses (seafood shops, fishing tours, etc.)

Trucks look good with a mural. This is a local Mahi-Mahi fish. Locals call it "dolphin", which can be confusing and traumatic to small children when they see "Dolphin Bites" on a menu. Don't worry, kids; Flipper is not for eating.

Even the big box stores dress up their massive expanse of concrete wall. I wish they did this everywhere.

This is a dive shop on Key Largo, not Marathon. But it's the only building I saw with all four walls painted in a single mural.

The Great White Way: 5th Avenue South at Night

The perfect time and place for strolling around Naples with ice cream in hand.

Shoppers, diners, and strollers out after dark on 5th Ave.

Trees were lit up on their trunks and in their canopies by strings and balls of white lights.

Looking toward 5th Ave from the entrance to The Sugden Community Theatre.

(Driftwood) Lovers' Key State Park Beach

Also a good hike at Lovers' Key State Park: the beach. 2.5 miles in total, beautiful sand, funny shore birds tritcombersut (like sandpipers and plover), and really cool driftwood (although I'm not sure you still call it driftwood if the tree's still in the ground). And if you're really lucky, you might just run into a fashion photo shoot.

Sandpipers really like this spot of the beach.

These guys were doing a catalogue shoot for this newish footwear line spun off by a former founder/partner in the Crocs company. They're... something.

My dad and I suspect that this (and several other trees) was decorated around Christmas time. It's neat that beach combers have left them just so.

And then the driftwood forest. I plan to edit some of these when I am home to render them in black and white. Haven't seen driftwood this cool since a beach I visited in Costa Rica several years ago.

Wilderness Hiking: The Search for the Elusive Marshbunny

Today I took my dad hiking with me. We headed north to Bonita Springs and Lovers' Key State park. Great place for easy hikes on the beach or along the inner canals on the Black Island Trail. We took the longest loop, a whole 2.5 miles with Lee County's highest point: a 30-foot high hill that we didn't even notice was "the hill" until we finished the trail and realized that we hadn't encountered any other hills. And the entire time, I was on the lookout for one thing: the elusive Marsh Rabbit. Not to be confused with the March Hare. So I'll call it the "marshbunny". **not for use in s'mores

And along the way, we saw:

A gopher tortoise sunning outside its burrow. He was right by the path and completely unfazed by hikers and cyclists stopping to say hello.

Egrets, ibis, and herons along the inner waterways and by the gator pool (apparently sans gators at the time).

A gumbo limbo tree, often referred to as a "tourist tree" because of its red, peeling skin.

Morning glories popping up here and there, like by this sea grape plant.

And a very determined tree.

Sadly, no marshbunnies. Maybe next time I'll bring a banana. Bunnies love bananas. Trust me.