Matt and I wisely took a day to recover after the wedding, and planned our pre-honeymoon to start on Monday instead. (For our actual honeymoon, we’re going to Europe in May.) My new in-laws dropped us off at the airport around noon, and we headed off to Atlanta. We landed a bit early, which was convenient since my sister had given us Delta Skyclub passes. Drink on their dime? Yes, please!
(Weird Skyclub fact: while they have free food there, you’re not allowed to bring it in from the outside. We had to eat our sammiches quickly before entering.)
The Skyclub was pretty fully of bored-looking business-people, but they had free drinks and clean bathrooms, and a table where we could sit and look out on the airport. We watched a baggage cart speed off too quickly, knocking a couple of suitcases onto the ground. They sat there ignored on the tarmac for way too long before someone picked them up and sent them to the baggage claim. Quality work as always, Delta.
We got on the next flight, and landed in Key West a little before 9pm. The airport was tiny, even smaller than most we’ve seen in the Caribbean. We waited a long time for our bags (which was confusing), then got a cab to our hotel, the Southernmost House.
The hotel was incredible. It’s a famous old mansion at the end of Duval Street, right down the block from the southernmost marker. Our room was on the second floor overlooking Duval, and we had a gigantic four-poster bed that was so tall we had to climb up on the rails to get in it. From the balcony, we could see the infinity pool looking out on the Atlantic Ocean. And it was open 24 hours!
We needed food badly, so we headed down Duval Street. There wasn’t much open after 10pm, but we managed to find a few places that were still serving food. We went into a cowboy-themed bar, sat down, and waited a long time before a server came over and gave us menus. That was the last we saw of any service after that, so we finally gave up and left. We crossed the street to Jack Flat’s, which had good service and sports on a million TVs. Perfect!
After dinner, we went directly to Sloppy Joe’s, Key West’s most famous bar. It was really crowded and we had a tiny table at the back, so we decided we’d finish those drinks and move on. While we were sitting there, we noticed a sign behind the bar saying that it was illegal to have open containers outdoors in Key West. That was total news to us, as we’d definitely been walking around drinking the last time we were there (along with everyone else in Key West). Also, we noticed plenty of people carrying go cups out onto the street. Confusing.
We wanted to go to a bar called the Rum Barrel, but it was closed Mondays. We ended up across the street at a place called Island Dogs. They had good cocktails, so we hung out there for a bit. It was pretty quiet, though, so we decided to head back to Sloppy Joe’s to see the cover band instead. We got there around 1am, and hung out watching them for a while (they were from Philly, and played the 90s’ greatest rock hits). Then we decided it was a pretty excellent idea to go swim in our 24-hour pool, so we walked the mile back to our hotel, changed into bathing suits, and went to do that.
It was awesome. We swam, went and sat on the poolside edge and dipped our feet in the Atlantic (it was surprisingly warm in the middle of the night), and then swam again, for a while sans bathing suits. 24-hour pools are officially the greatest thing ever.
Here’s our hotel in the daytime! I made the mistake of opening the curtains before I was dressed, so it’s possible my butt ended up in several tourists’ photos.
We decided to do some walking and see the city, so we stopped at the corner to wait in line for a photo of the southernmost marker, then headed up Whitehead Street toward Mallory Square.
We found Kelly’s Caribbean Bar and Grill along the way, so we stopped for brunch. We got a table in the courtyard, a couple of beers, and food. As we were finishing our meal, it started to rain a little. We were sitting under a tree, though, so it wasn’t too bad. Then it started to rain more, and we decided maybe we should head for shelter. Right as we sat down at the bar, it started pouring like crazy, and kept doing so for a long time.
We didn’t mind hanging out at the bar too much. The bartender and our server were awesome, and they kept bringing us free things… extra key lime pie, and the chef’s fresh-made halvah.
When the rain started to let up, we headed down toward Mallory Square again. We got there just in time to see a cruise ship leaving, so we hung out and watched that for a while.
Then we did some shopping, which was partly spurred on by the on-and-off rain. I got a new purse, and Matt got a couple cigars.
We walked back up Duval Street, looking for a place to rent bikes. We found Sunshine Rentals just a few blocks up. The bikes were beat to hell and the seat on Matt’s wouldn’t stay clipped in place on the post, so you had to ride with it in the lowest position. We decided to trade, since I’m shorter.
We rode back to the hotel, put our bathing suits on, and rode our bikes down to Fort Zachary Taylor Beach. We quickly realized how perfect bikes are for transportation in Key West: there are barely any hills, and there are so many bikes and scooters around that the cars are pretty used to being careful around them. I preferred to avoid the major streets because I have such bad balance, but that was easy to accomplish too.
It was overcast at the beach, but still warm out. The beach was nowhere near as nice as those perfect Caribbean beaches we’ve been spoiled by, but that was fine. You just had to swim over some rocks to get to the sandy area.
We floated around for a while, watching a storm roll in over the ocean. It started raining a bit, so obviously the right thing to do was wait it out in the water. It wasn’t really raining hard enough to soak our stuff on the beach, and it had the added bonus of clearing a lot of the people out as well.
We got out of the water around five, and went to the building to dry off and change clothes. By that time it was done raining, too. We rode back to the hotel, showered off, and got on our bikes again to head to Mallory Square for the sunset celebration. We locked them up a block from the square, intending to leave them there for the night because I didn’t want to try to ride after drinking. We were a little nervous about that, but figured there were so many bikes around that they would be fine. Also, they were incredibly crappy bikes!
We went to Sunset Pier for a drink, then took them to go shortly before sunset, so we could see it without an island blocking our view. We went to the middle of Mallory Square, and found our new favorite buskers: it was an older couple playing banjo and castanets, and an old dog wearing purple boxer-briefs. He walked around the circle, taking dollars out of people’s hands and putting them in a bucket. PEOPLE MAKE MONEY THIS WAY!
After sunset, we went to have dinner at El Meson de Pepe. Being vegetarian at a Cuban restaurant is usually pretty tricky, but I did well there. The mojitos didn’t hurt, either. While we were sitting there, we noticed a little chicken hanging out under the tables. She was running around looking for food, totally oblivious to the people nearby. Then a cat showed up, and she just backed off a few feet. I really wanted to take her home in my carry-on.
We then went over to the Rum Barrel, and browsed their insanely extensive rum list. We ordered a flight, and sat there being amused by the guys from Wisconsin near us at the bar. While they had a great rum list, the bartender didn’t seem all that knowledgeable about it, so we decided to move on. There was another rum bar (called Rum Bar, conveniently) at the other end of Duval near our hotel, so we headed that direction.
Rum Bar is located in the front of a hotel in an old house. It was very small, but there were only a few people in there hanging out. We got seats and started eyeing the massive collection of rums they had. The bartender set us up with a flight, made up of things we picked based on not having seen them before, and his recommendations. It was pretty amazing.
We hung out there for a while, talking to the other people at the bar, who positively insisted that our rental bikes were going to get stolen from Mallory Square. We still refused to believe that, because they were so very crappy. Plus there wasn’t much we could do about it at that point! When we finished our flight, I asked the bartender what his preferred cocktail was, and was overjoyed to learn it was an Old Fashioned. Even in the land of rum, people still like the classics.
Conveniently, it was only a couple-block walk from there to our hotel. It may have been the middle of the night again, but we were not going to miss a chance to swim in the infinity pool. Why they didn’t kick us out for doing cannonballs into the deep end at 2am, I will never understand.
In the morning, we unfortunately had to check out of the Southernmost House. (Had I known beforehand it was that great, we would’ve chosen to stay there the whole time. Next visit!) We rolled our suitcases the eight blocks or so to Azul Key West, which I’d picked because it was a little closer to the heart of things. Since we were early we had to leave the bags there, but that was fine. The guy working at the desk was super-friendly, and knew who we were when we arrived. We thanked him and headed to get some food.
Brunch meant an obligatory stop at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville. We had to, because it’s a tradition. (That’s also the first Margaritaville I begrudgingly visited.) We also have a longstanding tradition of bringing home a souvenir shotglass, but we were both feeling the effects of the previous night to much to really want to do a shot. (We ended up buying one at the store afterwards.) They did have Kalik, the beer of the Bahamas, on the menu, so we got that instead. I was excited that Matt finally got to try it!
While we were there, we researched various options for sunset cruises in Key West. We called a couple places, and managed to find one that was available. We made reservations for that evening.
We did some shopping along Duval Street, working our way back down to Mallory Square. Rounding the corner to where our bikes were parked, we wondered if maybe they were actually stolen, as unlikely as it was. But no, they were sitting right there where we’d locked them up, in the same crappy condition as always. We threw our bags aboard and rode them back to the hotel, because it was time to check in.
The guy at the desk had already brought our bags up to the room, which was fantastic. We hung out there for a while, enjoying the air conditioning; it was ungodly humid in Key West right then, and brutal in the sun. I dozed off for a while, and my short nap was very effective at getting me back to 100%. I was ready for some history! We hopped on our bikes and rode over to see the Hemingway House.
We knew about the polydactyl cats there, but didn’t realize to what extent they had the run of the house. They were great, and couldn’t have cared less about the people paying attention to them. They were used to being tourist attractions.
I loved the Hemingway house, even though of course there was no air conditioning and we were sweating through our clothes.
My favorite thing was his studio. It was exactly what you’d expect from Ernest Hemingway.
His pool wasn’t bad, either!
We crammed in the gift shop with all the other visitors, and picked out some souvenirs. I’m pretty sure it was that crowded just because it was the only place with air conditioning.
From there, we rode over to Hemingway’s original Key West hangout: the former home of Sloppy Joe’s (which is now half a block away), Captain Tony’s. Captain Tony was a local character in his own right.
The place was absolutely covered in mementos from people who had visited, and they were aged to the point that you couldn’t tell if there had actually been a fire in there, or it was just years of cigarette smoke. All the chairs were painted with the names of famous people who’d sat there, too.
(I probably don’t need to mention the sheer joy of day drinking in a tropical climate, too.)
There was a really drunk group at the end of the bar trying to figure out what ‘vaya con dios’ meant. We laughed to ourselves about it for a while, and then I told them because I couldn’t take it anymore. They staggered out of the bar, and shortly after that a big group of bros from Jersey piled in. They were even more drunk, celebrating one of the guys’ birthday. (They were kind of a confusing group, too. They ranged in age from questionably-21 to 50ish.) They insisted on tequila shots and a lot of yelling, so we decided it was time to move on. Plus we were hungry!
We crossed the street to Amigos Tortilla Bar, where we both got tacos and beer. From there, we could still hear the bros yelling from across the street. Holy crap. The tacos were awesome, too!
From there, it was time to head up to the dock for our sunset cruise! We got our bikes and rode up to Schooner Wharf. I was very proud of myself for riding with a beer in my bike basket.
We checked in, and the guy at the desk gave us coupons for 2-for-1 drinks at the bar, so of course we had to take advantage of that. I had a Cuba Libre, and Matt got to have his second Kalik of the day. He was very sad about it, obviously:
Once we finished, it was time to board the Schooner Western Union. As we waited in line, they announced that the bar was open right away, so we all headed there for beer. We took a seat, listened to their safety instructions and description of our trip, and then we headed out of the harbor.
The ship was amazing. It was apparently used by Western Union to lay cable as late as the 1970s.
Once we were out of the harbor, we got to help raise the sails! It was way harder than I expected. Not because of the effort, but the speed with which the rope flies through your hands.
In addition to our awesome captain, Len, there was a hammered dulcimer player named Gary. He played sea shanties and told stories about the ship’s history. Seriously, we were dying of awesome.
We sailed past Mallory Square, where a crowd was starting to form for sunset. They took us past the cruise docks, and we saw the beach we’d been at the previous day. Once we got out into open ocean, they told us they were going to fire a cannon, and even picked out a catamaran to fire it at. It was a tiny cannon, but it was incredibly loud.
And then, after firing the cannon, there was a HOMING PIGEON. Gary brought out a basket and said he was going to release the bird, so we should have our cameras ready since he’d fly away quickly. He opened the basket, and the bird’s head popped out, looking around. Then he hopped up onto the edge of the basket, and just sat there. Gary was kind of embarrassed after the bird hung out for a few minutes, but it meant we all got a bunch of pictures. He finally took off, circled a few times, and headed back toward Key West.
The ship turned to head back toward the harbor, and Matt and I got ourselves some champagne for a toast. Just like the night we got engaged in Maui!!
And then it was sunset time. I think if I lived in Key West, I’d have to go watch it every night. I don’t know how that could ever get old.
On the way back, they explained the presence of the gigantic ship lurking nearby: it was the Discovery channel crew filming for Shark Week! They have a bunch of smaller boats that go out to sea, and they’re lifted back up to the deck of the large ship at night.
By the time we got back to the pier, it was completely dark. We went back to Schooner Wharf for another drink, and to work out our evening strategy. (We were working from a list of the most historic/interesting bars in Key West, so getting to them all required some planning.) We got our bikes, and rode down to Duval Street to park them. We were about a block from the Hog’s Breath, so we decided to try that first.
We ordered food and a drink and hung out for a while, but the place was a little too quiet for our tastes (it’s Duval Street… you want it to be crazy). We decided to give the Green Parrot a try, as it was another old Hemingway favorite. The bar was unfortunately too full to sit at, but we got a table where we could overlook the scene. Their Cuba Libres were delicious, apparently:
And because you can’t possibly stay away from Sloppy Joe’s for too long, we ended up back there around 12:30. We hung out at the bar with some Sloppy Ritas, watching the same cover band from Philly. They were great.
And then it was time to take our bikes back to the hotel, which seemed like quite a feat. I decided to give it a try, and the worst case was that we’d just have to walk them. I made it within a few blocks at the hotel before tipping over, but we were stopping at an intersection, so no damage was done. So riding bikes drunk is definitely possible, but I also wouldn’t recommend it. Especially if you’re me and are prone to amazingly bad balance as it is!
We got up Thursday morning and rode our crappy bikes down to Duval Street for the last time. We turned them in at the rental shop, and went across the street to have brunch on the patio at Caroline’s. Brunch included mojitos, of course.
We walked down Duval Street doing some further shopping, planning to call for a cab to the airport shortly. I looked up the taxi number and called, but the lady on the other end couldn’t hear me (or pretended she couldn’t, because it was loud outside). I tried three times to no avail, so I started looking up alternate cab companies. I dialed three other phone numbers, and they all went to the same damn crabby lady. Finally, I got through to a different company and requested to be picked up nearby.
The cab arrived quickly, and we headed off to the private charter terminal at the airport. We went into the waiting area for the Island City Flying Service, and only had to wait a little bit before an entertaining Australian lady came to take us all to the check-in area. That part involved reviewing a map of the Dry Tortugas so we knew where to snorkel, getting our flippers, and each couple getting a cooler to hold our beer and pop. If only all flights could be that way.
We went outside to wait for the plane, which landed shortly afterwards. While we waited, we talked to the other people for a bit. There was a pair of surgeons from Brazil (via Philly), and a couple who lived on their yacht in Florida. The husband was retired from the military, and had also worked on the space shuttle launch pad at NASA. Holy crap.
There were only six of us going to Fort Jefferson that day. We’d intentionally picked the afternoon trip, knowing that the ferry from Key West would be leaving just as we arrived, which meant we’d practically have the island to ourselves.
We boarded the plane, which had 10 single seats on either side of an aisle. We got to wear really sexy headphones so we could hear the pilot, too.
The flight was 45 minutes long, and on the way we got to see two shipwrecks, some boats stashed by Cuban refugees, and a ton of sea turtles. I thought I saw a shark, too, but I couldn’t tell for sure. It was definitely big enough to be a shark.
The pilot pointed out a bunch of interesting features along the way, and then we listening to a recording about the history of Fort Jefferson and the Dry Tortugas. (They were originally called the Tortugas, and ‘Dry’ was added to denote the lack of fresh water.)
As we neared the island, I knew that the seaplane was the absolute correct choice for the trip. We wouldn’t have had anywhere near the view from the ferry.
Speaking of the ferry, we saw it just leaving the dock as we arrived. Our pilot buzzed it on the way in.
I expected the landing to be bumpy, but it was actually smoother than on a regular runway! (The only other time I’ve been on a seaplane, I think I was eight. We landed on the river in downtown St Paul, which definitely doesn’t seem legal at all.)
We parked right on the beach in front of Fort Jefferson. The pilot told us we could just leave our stuff laying around, because we were the only people there except for the park ranger, a couple people staying at the campground, and the few people whose boat was docked there. There were at most 15 people on the entire island. That’s amazing.
Matt and I went to go tour the fort first. Rather than wait for the official tour, we just wandered around ourselves. It was insanely hot and humid there, seemingly even moreso than in Key West
We climbed up to the roof of the fort to take photos. From there, we could see jellyfish swimming in the moat. And not like the jellyfish I was familiar with seeing on Florida beaches… they were big pink or purple things, some of them over a foot across. We were maybe a little nervous about running into them. (Especially since the yacht-living couple had told us in detail how they treat jellyfish stings, and of course we were completely unprepared for that.)
After completing our quick tour of the fort, we went to take a look at the rest of the (very tiny) island. We saw the camping area, which made us really want to do that someday (until the pilot later told us that they were really rough conditions: not even because of the lack of water and the smell of the composting toilets, but because it rarely got below the mid-80s and extremely high humidity at night). We checked out the beach on one end of the fort, and saw the Brazilian couple hanging out there. On the walk back, we encountered the Florida couple heading that direction with their snorkel gear. Which meant that the beach on the other side of the fort belonged to us alone.
I was really, really nervous about being able to see jellyfish, but after swimming around and not encountering any of them for a while, I relaxed a little. We did some snorkeling, and I discovered that my underwater camera case didn’t work so well with my new, much-smaller camera!
We got out the beer from the cooler, and sat waist-deep in the water on our own private beach. I’ve had some really good days, but that one had to be in my top ten.
After a while, it was time to head back to the seaplane. We went and changed clothes on the dock (it’s really hard to do that when you can’t rinse off the salt water, by the way), then met up with our group at the plane. The Florida couple had picked up a couple of live conch to show us!
We climbed back in the plane and took the same seats so that we could see what we missed on the way there. I got to see the wreck of the Arbutus this time. The ship’s mast still sticks up above the water.
I also saw the only private island in the Florida Keys. Those people’s lives must be rough.
As we arrived back in Key West, the pilot pointed out a Cuban Airlines plane that has been parked at the Key West airport for years, because the pilots landed on the runway and ran away to defect. They didn’t know what to do with the plane, so it’s been sitting there ever since. Awesome.
Back at the airport, Matt and I walked over to the main terminal to the car rental counter and picked up our car. We drove to the hotel, picked up our parking pass, showered, and then headed down to park near Mallory Square for our last Key West sunset. SIGH.
Again, we got a table at Sunset Pier and ordered food and drinks. I decided it was time to order my drink in a coconut, since I’d been wanting one the whole time we had been there. Having a car made it way more convenient; I didn’t want to have to lock up my monkey on a bike!
Since we didn’t want to have to deal with leaving our car somewhere overnight, we took it back to the hotel and parked it in the tiny maze that was the Azul courtyard. We then headed off on foot to the Orchid Key Inn, which was recommended as a good cocktail bar. We found the tiny bar around back. It had only 8 seats, and was full of mostly-local people well into their drinking that evening (it was only 9:30pm). They were hilarious, though, and everyone there was having a great time. We tried ordering a couple specialties and the bartender wasn’t familiar with them, so we went with his flavored martini creations instead (they were actually really good, especially the French 75 made with St Germain). More people came in after a while, and we were convinced they were swingers. After a couple of drinks, we said goodbye to everyone and headed up Duval Street.
We decided on Bobalu’s, a very Caribbean-looking bar that we’d noticed the first night we were there. They had an entertaining cover band, a gaggle of bachelorette-partying girls, and very delicious pizza. Which got knocked off the bar halfway through, and they totally replaced for us (like, half the pizza… I think the kitchen staff had a snack). We hung out there for a while, and then it was time to head back to the hotel and prepare to leave Key West. Again, SIGH.
Friday morning, we got up and checked out of Azul Key West. We made a quick stop for Cuban coffee near the marina, then headed up the Keys toward Miami. It’s a drive I’ve always wanted to make.
It really didn’t take anywhere near as long as I expected, nor was the traffic that bad. As expected, Key West was the most touristy, and definitely most Caribbean. The others seemed more laid back, and much smaller towns. I liked Islamorada the best.
We decided to stop at Shell World in Key Largo. That was a good decision as far as souvenirs went! We spent a very long time there, and Bally hung out in a shark’s mouth:
Our progress slowed quite a bit as we left the southern Everglades area and approached the outskirts of Miami. We ended up stuck in non-highway traffic for what seemed like forever. I spent the time looking up places to stop on my phone while Matt drove: we were in search of a liquor store, to pick up some of the local specialties, and then dinner and drinks.
We finally arrived at a liquor store, and were the only non-Spanish-speakers there. They had a great selection, and really cheap prices, so we were very excited. From there, we made our way slowly to the freeway, and headed north to Fort Lauderdale. What we’d discovered in my very long time spent on Google was that there was an authentic old tiki bar up that way. It looked like it had the potential to rival Don the Beachcomber in California.
Oh, and it did. We instantly fell in love with Mai Kai. They had oldschool tiki drinks, female servers in bikinis and miniskirts (seriously!), and a rockabilly band was setting up behind us.
We stuck around to watch the band for a while, then hit the gift shop for a tiki mug and headed out. We drove back to Miami, then across to South Beach. It was getting on toward Miami dinnertime (i.e. 8pm), so it was insane in the area, but luckily our hotel was nearby. We had no idea where to park, though, so we called and they said we had to use the valet. At least that part was easy.
We checked into the Bentley South Beach, which was right across from the giant beachfront. Our room was spectacular, so we were sad we were staying for so short a time. We hung out on the balcony for a while smoking cigars and drinking beer, then decided to go experience the insane nightlife there. (I’d told Matt that everyone in South Beach was gorgeous, and they all went to clubs til 4am. We didn’t want to see the clubs or hang out with those people so much as gawk at them on the street.)
Once we were out walking up the beach, I was really glad I’d put a dress on. Otherwise I would have been the only woman out there in capris and a t-shirt.
We had a couple spots on our list that were recommended as good cocktail bars, so we walked up toward the first one. It was a long way, so when we got there and were turned away by the doorman (because 1) they didn’t open til later and 2) Matt was wearing shorts), we were pretty crabby about it. All we wanted was a place to hang out with halfway decent drinks, and far less of the South Beach scene. We knew that would be hard to come by.
We walked past a sushi place called Kung Fu Kitchen that had outside tables and looked pretty-low key, so we decided to go there for dinner. The service was iffy and the crowd got progressively douchier, but they had great food and pretty decent cocktails, too. Restored, we decided to press on in search of the elusive good bar.
Because Matt had done some research ahead of time, he recognized the name of one of them we passed. Because it was listed as a glorious dive, I hadn’t expected Mac’s Club Deuce to be in South Beach (I assumed Miami proper). But there it was, and it was indeed the bar we were looking for. There was most definitely not much in the way of South Beach scene there, just a lot of really drunk people and strong drinks.
The very drunk bartender (who was awesome) told us all about the joys of riding a horse on the beach in the Caribbean in great detail. Then a guy who I’d seen propping up the bar when we came in came over to talk, and seemed mostly normal for a while. Then we learned that he was gay, Jewish, and a hardcore republican, which really didn’t seem to fit well with the gay thing. He started telling Matt that according to his beliefs, people who modify their bodies are going to hell, because that’s the worst thing you can do to yourself. Matt humored his drunk ass for a long time, then left to go to the bathroom and escape him for a while. I ended up sitting next to him, and he started telling me the same thing. I was pretty amused by it… here was probably the most self-hating man in America telling me I was going to hell for having tattoos. He wasn’t even being a jerk about it, he was very matter of fact. I told him that was fine, because I happened to believe he was entirely wrong. After way too much of that conversation, though, we decided it was time to head elsewhere.
We went back over to Ocean Drive along the beachfront, wanting to stop in somewhere and sit at the bar. The first place we tried had a cover, so we went a couple doors down instead. It was there that we discovered, sometime after two in the morning, that you can get to-go cups in Miami. And this place didn’t just have to-go cups, they had to-do VATS. It was incredible.
We took our vats and walked down to the beach, where we sat in the sand for a long time. After realizing it was really dark and really late, we took off all our clothes and went for a swim. When we got back to the hotel afterwards, I was wearing my dress inside out (with the pockets sticking out from the sides), and we’d lost our underwear in the ocean.
In short, Miami is awesome.
The morning came way too early, and our heads hurt. We had to check out by 11, too. We left our bags with the front desk and walked up Ocean Drive to find something to eat.
I’m not exactly sure what convinced us to stop at Sea Cafe. They had a patio, an overly-loud Italian server, and some pictures of food out front. That was enough to convince us, though, so we got a table. Fabio the server told us they were having happy hour, so it was two-for-ones on all drinks, and of course we could take them with us to the beach. We both ordered mojitos, and the THIS happened:
Yes, they were almost the size of Matt’s head. And that’s just half of the two-for-ones.
Our brunch pasta was delicious, and we managed to finish our drinks. Fabio was very disappointed that we didn’t want to partake in the two-for-ones (as were we), but we had to get to the airport. We went back to the hotel, got our bags, and brought our ticket to the valet.
The valet took FOREVER. We didn’t leave a ton of extra time to get to the airport, so we were starting to worry. By the time he arrived, we were cutting it really close. We threw everything in the car and sped off toward Fort Lauderdale, because we were flying out of there instead of Miami. We were running so late we didn’t even have time to gas up the rental car. It was expensive, but ended up being worth it since we barely made our flight!