Key West doesn’t want to hear that it isn’t what it used to be. Sure, the days of Ernest Hemingway and Tennessee Williams strolling down Duval Street or fishing along the islands of the Dry Tortugas are finished, but the spirit and beauty that captivated their imagination is thriving more than ever. Whether you are admiring the beautiful sunset from Mallory Square or dining in one of the several fine restaurants dotting the city’s landscape, you will find yourself impressed by the uniqueness of this island city with its palm-lined streets. The city cries, I’m all about living.

And it is, of course. Ask Jimmy Buffet, who, while eating at the small mom and pop pharmacy/restaurant named Dennis’ Pharmacy, a place billing itself as the southernmost pharmacy in the United States, supposedly was inspired to write Cheeseburger in Paradise. (Yes, I had a cheeseburger and it was delicious. The restaurant is located on the corner of Simonton and United. ) Or ask the store clerk who moved to Key West from Arizona two years ago and now lives on a houseboat and says his living expenses are about $60/month and that the most important thing to know on a houseboat is when to haul your derriere to safety when a storm threatens. Or ask the bartender who remained in his house during one of the hurricanes and amused himself by flushing the toilet and watching the water instantly disappear. For in the final analysis, Key West is about its people.

Yes, there are fine museums like the Mel Fisher Maritime Museum where you can see, and purchase, Spanish galleon treasure his crews discovered from ship wrecks off the Key West coast. And there are Bahamian villages, theaters, art galleries, sidewalk cafes, famous saloons, and historical places like the Truman White House that has been the site of several famous meetings. And of course, you can learn about all the famous people who have lived on the island, like the aforementioned Hemingway and Williams, or James Audubon, Wallace Stevens and John Dos Passos. But while people come and go, the spirit that brought them to Key West is eternal.

As I walked along the streets (Key West is small enough that you don’t need transportation, although bicycle and motor scooter rentals are readily available) the city whispered to me. Don’t bore me by saying I’m closer to Cuba than Miami for who cares about geography? Besides, I’m my own country. Its own country? I want to laugh but then I see the signs proclaiming that Key West is the capitol of The Conch Republic. What is The Conch (pronounced Conk) Republic, you ask? Well, in 1982, the United States Border Patrol set up a roadblock just to the North of the Keys, effectively isolating the Keys from the mainland. The Mayor of Key West attempted to get an injunction to halt the roadblock and when the attempt failed, he announced that at noon the following day, the Florida Keys would secede from the Union. True to his word, at precisely 12:00 at Mallory Square, he read the proclamation of secession and announced that the Keys would become The Conch Republic. That done, he immediately surrendered to the Admiral in charge of the Key West Navy base and demanded one billion dollars in foreign aid to rebuild their nation!

A frivolous show of independence? Hardly. Ask the woman who has established a store as a refuge for chickens and roosters. Yes, the lowly chicken rules in Margaritaville, so much so, in fact, that more than a few of its citizens believe it is the national bird of Key West. The chickens, said to be descendants of fighting roosters brought to Key West by Cuban immigrants, have been around for decades and are protected by city ordinances. However, in recent times the city has made an effort to rid itself of some of the birds; thus, the Chicken House, a place where old and infirmed chickens and roosters are taken in and can only be adopted, never bought.

What about the famed Key West cats? Don’t they control the chickens on the loose? Evidently not. Some say the chickens/roosters are too tough but more likely it’s because the cats are more kindly thought of and receive enough food to dull their predatory instincts. The cats are reminders of the romantic days of Hemingway. There are hundreds of the furry beasts strutting around the town, meandering in and out of open cafes, and many of them have six toes which is a good indication that the animals are offsprings from Hemingway’s cats.

I am diverse, the city whispers as I continue down Duval Street, which runs from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean. I am the end of the road, not because U.S. Highway 1 ends here but because I am the Camelot for the wanderer. Camelot? Perhaps, but one thing is certain: many have moved from hectic jobs to this relaxed lifestyle of wearing shorts and sandals, where the major decisions lie between going fishing or sitting under a palm tree and gazing out over the emerald green water. And the city is nothing, if not diverse. Try Mallory Square in the evening when the Sunset Celebration occurs. Now, there are many places to watch the sunset. You can view it from the relative luxury of a rooftop dining room or you can watch it from the rooftop bar (appropriately called the Garden of Eden) of the Bull & Whistle where clothing is optional.

But most visitors watch it from the famed Mallory Square because during the Sunset Celebration, Mallory Square becomes Mardi Gras without the costumes. As I walked along the docks with several hundred of my friends, there were trained cats jumping through hoops, a physic, an animal psychiatrist, artists, two dog shows, dancers, vendors selling jewelry, paintings and T-shirts, jugglers; a veritable plethora of Americana. As I sat on the dock admiring the view of the sinking sun, a man with something that looked like a replica of the Wheel of Fortune set up shop behind me and began trying to save lost souls.

Que desirez-vous, Monsieur? What do you wish, sir? Just as the city speaks in many languages, it accommodates many needs, from the casual visitor wanting to catch the flavor of the past to the ear-splitting, mind boggling rap generation wanting to party through the night. Police are inconspicuous and rules are flexible. The food is good and the drinks varied. (You might try the Bull Mary at the Bull & Whistle Bar, a tequila drink almost assured to get your evening off to a rousing start.) Although the nightlife is enjoyable, I wouldn’t recommend trying the Duval Walk, which is a euphemism for stopping at every bar along Duval Street.

And if it’s history that interests you, visit the Flagler Railroad Museum and learn about the trials and tribulations of the railroad tycoon, Henry Flagler, as he attempted to build an overseas railroad from the mainland to Key West. Or stop in a bookstore and pick up literature describing how Key West was once a world center for cigar making. You will find that the history of Key West is rich and exciting. And like most other things in Key West, the opportunities are plentiful.

But finally my stay is finished and it’s time to say goodbye. I’ve enjoyed listening to the whispers but now there are other places to see. I will spend the night in Key Largo and as I load the car I already am wondering if I’ll find Travis McGhee. But that’s another story.

This story was published on 01 Aug 2002.