As I write this column, I am sitting in a suite on the Celebrity Infinity ship, bound for Grand Turk.
I decided to take my sister Gabrielle on her very first cruise around the Caribbean to see if she would like it. Of course, I waited until the height of hurricane season before we hit the high seas. Just put it down to my sense of adventure.
After spending the night in Fort Lauderdale, we made our way to Port Everglades Terminal 25 for boarding. Staff greeted us like we were VIPs and ushered us towards the exclusive suite lounge in the terminal.
“Would madam like a complimentary drink from the bar while we check you in? Please feel free to take a seat on one of our comfortable sofas and we’ll come to you to complete the paperwork.”
“See?” I said to Gabs with a knowing smile. “This is what it’s all about.”
Well, our bums had barely brushed the cushions before we were asked for the COVID test results that we didn’t have. We were vaccinated to the eyeteeth, but the necessity for a negative test was only going to be dropped by the cruise lines three days later.
One uniformed person whispered in the ear of another, iPads were consulted, foreheads scrunched into frowns, and two minutes later we were practically frogmarched to the far end of the hall for a good old nostril-swabbing. Suite lounge, we hardly knew ye.
The staff at the testing desk were clearly world-weary after what must have been a long and trying day. We were two of many passengers who had not realised or forgotten that tests were needed, and the majority had made their displeasure known in a very vocal fashion. I have to admit that the $170 price tag for the two tests gave me a moment’s pause, but then as it was my fault for not reading the regulations properly, I could hardly moan. My only complaint was that there weren’t exclusive suite COVID tests that, you know, might have caressed our noses rather than plunged into them in that overly familiar manner.
Mercifully, both tests were negative, and suddenly the staff were our friends again, directing us to the gangway. We boarded the vessel, got to our cabin, and unpacked the luggage for our seven-night vacation.
Fast forward to while I’m sitting here, writing, (Tuesday, 6 Sept.) and we’re halfway through the trip, and we’ve already made our stop in the wonderfully quirky Key West.
If you’ve never been to Key West, I highly recommend it. It is artsy, has a completely unique vibe, and the architecture in Old Town is truly stunning. Even though it was a hot day, we fi gured, being from Cayman, we’d be shrugging off the sun’s rays while others wilted. Yeah… not so much. By the time we’d walked around the Key West Museum of Art & History – not far from the port gates – the idea of strolling to the Hemingway House went right out the window. We gravitated towards one of the signature pink taxis parked on the street and asked – nay, begged – the driver to transport us to our destination.
The house was fascinating, but we were certainly not the first to think of visiting it. There were crowds of people in the grounds and walking around the various rooms. Of course, it was very interesting, seeing the original furniture, the pictures of Hemingway, and reading all the notes about his life, but really, the stars of the show were the six-toed cats sleeping by the windows, on the beds and even in the centre of the main dining table. Either they were drugged or extremely used to visitors, because they just kept kipping through all the pets, strokes and “Awwww”s from the humans surrounding them. (Hemingway was given a white polydactyl cat by a ship’s captain, and some of the moggies on the property are descendants of ‘Snow White’.)
Realising that we vastly preferred airconditioned vehicles over walking in the heat, we called the taxi to come back and give us a tour of Key West. It was a great decision. Our driver, Rob, was originally from New Jersey, but had lived in the Keys for 18 years. We drove through the different neighbourhoods, stopped for some shopping, and saw the insane lineup of people trying to get their picture taken with the Southernmost Point Buoy.
Although we didn’t walk into the building, we snapped some shots of the legendary Bull & Whistle Bar on Duval Street. In case you’re unfamiliar with this fi rm favourite, it has three floors. The first floor is the Bull; the second is the Whistle; and the third/rooftop terrace is known as the Garden of Eden – a clothing-optional space that also offers great views of the town. Even if I had been up for dropping trou, that was not the day for throwing caution to the winds. It felt like 100 degrees in the shade, and I would venture to guess that any who answered the call of Eden suffered burnt extremities as a result. Some body parts just aren’t designed to be blistered.
Before Rob dropped us at the Audubon House & Tropical Gardens, he revealed that his electricity bill last month was US$650. That was one of the most surprising pieces of information we learned on the tour. After hearing from friends all over the US that their bill was “so high” over the summer, reaching “almost $100, for heaven’s sake” (gee, I’m crying into my beer for ya), it was interesting to hear that someone else shared our monthly pain. Rob was a kindred spirit.
Let me just say that the Audubon House was a great experience. It clearly doesn’t get the same level of interest that the Hemingway museum does, yet it truly deserves it. Okay, it doesn’t have the cats, but it more than makes up for them with thoughtfully curated pieces in each room, not to mention those extraordinary full-sized Audubon prints on the walls of colourful native birds.
The stairs in this house, much like Hemingway’s, were steep and narrow. After visiting both homes, I started Googling the cost of new knees.
It was a short walk back to the pier, thank goodness, as even with the limited exposure to the sun I’d had, I was still a little toasted – a Greater Red-Breasted Vicki, as Audubon might have painted me.
We’d had a great day out, and couldn’t wait to see what the other stops would bring.
By the time you read this, we’ll have already been to Grand Turk and the Dominican Republic. Will we ATV or zipline? Is horse-riding on the cards or maybe a hike up to the top of a waterfall? Will I, Vicki Wheaton, end up with a broken leg?
Stay tuned…
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