Wanderer Of The World: Key West, Florida

It has been sopping wet in NYC for what feels like forever. The raindrops even look grey. CJ and I have jumped in 397 rain puddles, drank 101 cups of warm tea and drew 249 pictures of clouds. And now we're just ready to dry out.

Oh, Mr. Sun.

Well.

With nothing but soggy thunderstorms on deck for the rest of the week I'm oogling over photos from our trip to Key West back in January. You know, the time I actually ran there. I'm secretly wishing that a smidge of the sunshine will seep from the photos on my computer screen and put a little golden glow back over Manhattan.

Dreaming.

After racing {literally} down from Miami, my friend Kasey, Greg and myself all agreed we deserved a little Key West magic {honey sand + icy margaritas + hot pink sunsets + simple peace}, so we stayed in town for a few extra days. Kasey used to be a Key West native so we were ushered to the best Cuban restaurants, oyster bars, ice cream parlors and art galleries. We stayed at a cute little bed and breakfast that was stuffed between palm trees, meandering out for Key Lime pie on sticks and strolls along the marina where we pretended we owned a ritzy sailboat.

And because I'm sort of geeky about my love for writers, we even popped into the Hemingway House. It's totally touristy. But the stories are good. I enjoyed it. It may be Hemingway's best story. His life.

Our last night in town we decided to hop aboard one of those boozy sunset cruises. We drank sangria, plotted dream vacations and watched the sunset that slid from the sky like a melting dreamsicle. 

By trip's end, we left with tart margaritas flowing through our veins and enough sunshine sticking to our skin, that if you close on your eyes on a rainy day, you can still feel it.

Oh, Mr. Sun.

P.S. Greg and I loved eating at the Flaming Buoy {oh, the black bean soup!}, if you are ever in town looking for a restaurant off the grid.