Key Largo to Key West

Key Largo to Key West
Thursday 5 March

I wish I could have stayed at Dove Creek Lodge for longer. Just opening my curtains onto my balcony with the view of the rising sun over Key Largo was a real treat. It's at that point that I realise that, for weeks, I have not seen a sunrise, but a lot of sunsets. Now, as I head south, with the ever-narrowing Keys, I'll be able to see both!
My first port of call is to the John Pennekamp State Park for an early morning snorkelling trip. (www.pennekamppark.com). The Park, and the adjacent national maritime sanctuary, cover 178 nautical square miles of coral reefs, seagrass beds and mangrove swamps. People come here from all over the world to dive on the only living coral reef in the continental US.
There are only six of us, but the checking in procedure is pretty shambolic. Once on the boat, the crew is excellent, with very good safety briefings and snorkelling instruction for the four members of our party who hadn't done it before.
I spend the 30-minute trip to the coral reef on the bridge with Captain Craig Cross. He's another interloper, in fact all three crew members come from New Jersey.
The snorkelling is excellent, although there's a bit of a swell and clearly weather conditions are about to change. The water is pretty clear, we see all sorts of interesting species, including a load of conch shells, the symbol of the Conch Republic as Floridians like to call their piece of paradise. A barracuda or two swim idly by. The coral is not nearly as good as what I have seen at Lord Howe Island off Australia, but it's a nice trip.
On the way back through the astonishingly turquoise water, Craig and I chat about nautical things. He reveals that he's descended from Scots immigrants, so I'll be passing him the information I have already sourced on genealogy for JoNell and Cathy in Naples.
I think the designer of my programme is a helicopter pilot, because there is absolutely no way I can stop for lunch and get to the Turtle Hospital in Marathon by the appointed hour. Even going without eating, I am 20 minutes late for my tour. I can't quite get my head round the fact that, on a former motel site, with the buildings all still in evidence, the owner has chosen to run a 'not for profit' organisation to rehabilitate injured turtles. Selling the land would make enough money to build something totally geared to the job, but nobody I ask will explain to me exactly why. My itinerary allocates only one hour for the tour, but the video and briefing alone takes that up, so I can only take a quick look at the turtles and leave for my next appointment.
Nearby is Pigeon Key, (where 500 workers stayed while constructing the Florida East Coast Railway. You can walk the 2 miles across the original rail bridge between Miami and Key West which, after the railroad closed, became the first road link. There's also a boat, on which I was the only passenger, so the crew stayed while tour guide Dee showed me around. The project was funded by Henry Flagler, who despite owning 31% of Standard Oil, kept his successes pretty private. There are great views of the new seven-mile bridge next to the old one, part of which is maintained as a fishing pier.
The drive south to Key West is ghastly. Nose to tail traffic, 40 miles an hour and tedious in the extreme. I can see why so many people choose to fly one way. Sadly, I have to drive all the way back again on Sunday.
But my welcome at the Ambrosia guest house (www.ambrosiakeywest.com) in Key West more than makes up for the stress of the journey.
Julie and Tina are marvellous hosts, find me a parking space, thrust a cold beer into my hand, book me a bicycle and show me to my room. While without the wow factor of the view of last night, this just has wow factor because of the room. It's colonial style, with a wonderful terrace on which to sit and read, including a wooden swing seat. I'll admit I am totally shattered and my brain has almost shut down completely. It's been a really long and tiring day. But Julie takes over and sorts out all sort of things for me, including various inductions into the Conch republic hierarchy. She's an absolute treasure.
I potter off on my bike to see the sun setting from Mallory Square, where a whole circus of escapologists and tight rope walkers are setting up for their evening revels.
Me, I am going to have a quick beer and bite, then I will be collapsing into my enormous four poster bed.
Julie has given me two keys. Maybe she knows something I don't.