My trips to Key West were bittersweet, as all my travels are.
I suffer a crushing homesickness any time I am without family and forced to socialize with acquaintances, whether they be coworkers or, well, anyone else.
The first Key West trip was as good as could be expected, which was better than predicted. My days were spent outside on a boat, and it only rained three days. I only barfed three times. I did drop a glass door on my toe, rendering my toenail dead and my bone fractured. I went home early that day.
Amidst the days were the evenings; I had only a rental bike to traverse the three mile island (no, not The Three Mile Island, but the three mile island I was on) and used it well, even during the flood with the water rising to the middle of my wheels. I found a place I could eat on my very strict diet, and I found a fish shop with the best sushi since Japan, and I had three oysters for a dollar.
I returned to Key West six months after my first two-week-long trip, which happened to be two weeks before our wedding. I was a mess, stressed, not wanting to be on that faraway island and not really wanting to be home either. At least, during my first trip, I had a home I wanted to go home to; my life was a mess during that second trip and not even the sunshine, nor the sea, could soothe my worried looks.
A’s visited the Keys four times now, including this current trip. He doesn’t much care for it; but neither of us much care for tourist magnets. But on this trip he found a friend, and a friendly place: CrossFit Key West. I’d say that’s a win.