Casa Marina, one of Key West’s loveliest resorts, combines the best of old and new.  It’s located in a quiet section of the island’s south shore, a fifteen minute walk to the heart of Duval Street.  Like several of Florida’s grandest old hotels, Casa Marina owes its existence to Henry Flagler.  Flagler, a truly self-made man who dropped out of school at age fourteen to work in a grain store, became a partner in Standard Oil with John D. Rockefeller and a wizard who worked his magic in railroads and hotels.  Nearly all Florida tourism, and much of Florida as we know it today, in fact, owes a huge debt to Flagler.  

Honeymooning with his second wife in St. Augustine in 1883, he was enchanted by the area’s beauty but dismayed by its lack of decent hotels and infrastructure.  He built the city’s first major hotel,  the Ponce de Leon (now Flagler College), bought a local railroad line and soon began extending it south towards Miami.  Along the way he built more hotels, including two in Palm Beach:  the enormous Royal Poinciana and The Palm Beach Inn (later renamed The Breakers).  Flagler’s own mansion, Whitehall, built in Palm Beach in 1902, is now the Flagler Museum.

Before long, Flagler set his sights on extending his Florida East Coast Railroad over open water to Key West, which was then the state’s largest city and a busy port.  By 1905, construction had begun on his Overseas Railroad, a project so unlikely that it was often referred to as “Flagler’s Folly.”  The extension was beset with countless construction difficulties and devastating weather events, including two hurricanes.  Flagler persevered, and the Overseas Railroad was completed in January of 1912, when Flagler was in his 80s and a much-admired figure.  He was greeted with great fanfare by cheering crowds when he arrived in Key West in his own private railcar.  He died a year and a half later, from injuries sustained in a fall on the stairs at Whitehall. 

Flagler planned Casa Marina to be the southernmost pearl in his string of luxurious Florida hotels.  He enlisted his favorite architects, Carrere and Hastings, whose designs had included the New York Public Library, the Hotel Ponce de Leon and his own home, Whitehall.  Flagler died before construction began, but the architects held true to his vision for his “House by the Sea.” When the hotel opened on New Year’s Eve of 1920, it became Key West’s swankiest destination.  The arrival of President Warren G. Harding a few days later further enhanced its reputation as the place to be.   

Flagler’s original building was extended with flanking wings during the 70s and 80s.  While these don’t measure up to the quality and style of the central older section, a recent renovation has eliminated many of the less attractive features of earlier piecemeal restorations.  The resort may be now, more than ever since it’s 1920 opening, attuned to Flagler’s concept.  Its Spanish Colonial style is classic and stately rather than opulent.  This is no garishly gilded palace plopped down in an unlikely beach setting.  Its creamy white exterior gives it the look of a well-planned, red tile-roofed sandcastle.  On the water side, a deep, high-ceilinged arcade offers a gracious welcome.  

The crest above the center door that leads out toward the beach is said to represent Flagler’s Key to Sunshine.  If you want to avoid warm, sunny weather, by all means stay away from Key West. 

The arcade looks out to the Atlantic. 

A water walk bordered by reflecting pools and palm trees leads to the beach and separates the resort’s two large swimming pools. 

 

Talented sand artists create seasonal masterpieces at the Casa Marina.  While we were there, Bumble the Abominable from Rudolf set the star atop the Christmas tree.  In the words of Yukon Cornelius, “Looky what he can do!”

This sandcastle that could have been lifted from of a Maxfield Parrish painting served as marriage proposal. We hope Jessica said yes. 

Casa Marina has one of the largest private beaches in Key West. 

Beside the hotel’s main entrance off Reynolds Street stands a Seward Johnson bronze of a bellman taking a cigarette break. 

Upon our return from Duval Street on New Year’s Eve, our daughter adorned the bellman with a celebratory tiara. 

Can we go back yet?  Seems like it’s time. 

Our family is unintentionally following Hemingway’s footsteps in our recent vacations.  Last year in Paris, our favorite café looked toward the author’s first French bare-bones apartment on Place Contrescarpe.  During our winter trip to Key West, we found ourselves firmly in Hemingway country again. 

The writer and his second wife Pauline arrived in Key West from Paris via Havana in 1928.  They hadn’t planned to linger, but the new car that Pauline’s wealthy uncle had bought for them was late in arriving.  The couple moved into an apartment above the Ford dealership while they waited for their car.  During the three weeks they spent there, Hemingway finished A Farewell to Arms, and both he and Pauline fell in love with Key West.

In 1931, they decided to settle on the island.  Pauline’s generous Uncle Gus (doesn’t everyone need an Uncle Gus?) purchased a spacious and beautiful but dilapidated home for them.  The Spanish Colonial style villa on Whitehead Street dates from 1851.  It was built by Asa Tift, owner of a shipwreck salvaging operation.   (The nearby Key West Shipwreck Museum tells the story of the city’s lucrative salvage industry.) The Hemingways renovated the home extensively and lived there with their two young sons until 1940.   

Deep, airy porches and tall windows provide shade and ventilation in the tropical climate. 

Hemingway’s large swimming pool is as well-known as his house.  The pool, the very first in Key West and within 100 miles, dates from 1937-38.  At the time, Hemingway was in Spain reporting on the Spanish Civil War.  Pauline supervised the construction, a mammoth and hugely expensive operation that involved digging through solid coral.  During the 1930s, when Key West lacked a city-wide system of fresh water, the pool was filled with salt water piped in from the water table.  It took several days to fill, and because the salt water was prone to algae growth, the pool had to be regularly drained and refilled, a laborious process. 

These days the most well-known residents of the Hemingway property are the fifty or so pampered polydactyl cats that roam the grounds and lounge on the furniture. A typical cat has five toes on each front paw and four on each back paw.  Polydactyls have six or more on each front paw and may have additional toes on each back paw.  The Key West felines are said to be descendants of Snow White, a polydactyl cat given to Hemingway by a ship captain.  Polydactyls were popular as ship cats because sailors considered them to bring good luck. 

At feeding time at the Hemingway house, the cats head to the garden terrace in droves, providing a good opportunity to see their wide variety of toes.  Some appear to be wearing mittens because of an additional toe. 

In the pavement near the garden, concrete proof of extra toes.

This tabby struck me as macho tough guy (perhaps in the Hemingway mold) but my daughter found him to be a sweetheart. 

This cat has claimed a comfy spot on the hassock of a chair in Hemingway’s writing studio above the garage. 

 

Another signature Key West attraction associated with Hemingway is Sloppy Joe’s Bar, originally owned and operated by Joe Russell, who became a close friend and fishing buddy of the author.  Hemingway began patronizing Russell’s speakeasy during Prohibition.  In the photo above, preparations are underway for the New Year’s Eve midnight conch drop. 

When Joe Russell’s bar officially opened on Greene Street in 1933, it was known as the Blind Pig.  With the addition of a small dance floor, it became the Silver Slipper.  Hemingway, who had frequented a bar in Havana known as Sloppy Joe’s, was instrumental in the final name change.  A rent increase that Russell refused to pay prompted a sudden change of location in 1937 to its current spot on Duval Street.  Russell and his customers were said to have carried drinks and furniture down the street to a vacant bar in the middle of the night, with service never ceasing.  The original building above, which dates from 1851, first housed an ice house and morgue.  It became Captain Tony’s Saloon in 1958.  A young Jimmy Buffet played there often in the 70s.  (The bar and its owner Tony Tarracino, a former Key West mayor, are the subject of Buffet’s song The Last Mango in Paris.)

The outdoor courtyard of the Blue Heaven Restaurant and Bar on Thomas Street marks the location of the boxing ring where Hemingway refereed matches. Originally located in the back yard of the author’s home, it was moved when the pool was built.  During high season, the wait will be long to eat outside under the old trees of the merrily lighted courtyard.  We waited, and it was worth it.  Live music, a friendly, celebratory atmosphere, wandering roosters and cats, great seafood and Key Lime pie make a meal at Blue Heaven one of the quintessential Key West experiences. 

Roam just about anywhere in Key West’s historic district, and you’ll pass one appealing building after another.  Here are some that caught my eye. 

The Southernmost House, a yellow brick mansion trimmed in pastel candy colors, was built 1896 by the daughter of Key West’s first millionaire.  It’s now a beautifully restored luxury inn.  “Southernmost” is an adjective that runs rampant in Key West.  In addition to the Southernmost House, local resorts include The Southernmost Hotel and Southernmost on the Beach.  The Southernmost Point (in the Continental U.S., 90 miles to Cuba) is nearby, marked by a painted concrete buoy.  You’ll know you’re close when you see the line of tourists waiting to be photographed by it.   

The first St. Paul’s Episcopal Church was built in 1831.  Fire and hurricanes destroyed it and two later incarnations.  The current church, a hybrid Gothic-Art Deco confection painted pristine white, was completed in 1919.  Inside, you’ll find beautiful stained glass windows and an oasis of calm in one of the busiest sections of Duval Street. 

The Strand, also on Duval Street, opened in the 1920s as a movie palace.  No longer a theatre, it’s been home to a nightclub and Ripley’s Believe it or Not.  It was featured in the 1993 movie Matinee, set in Key West and starring John Goodman.  While the façade, which resembles a fondant-covered petit-four, remains essentially unchanged, the period interior no longer exists.  The building now houses a Walgreen’s drug store.   

Like St. Paul’s Church, the Key West lighthouse has been rebuilt several times.  Located on Whitehead Street across from the Hemingway House, the current building was completed in 1849.  The lighthouse remained in use until 1969. 

The adjacent keeper’s house, seen from the lighthouse tower, dates from 1887. 

Two more views from the lighthouse.  The second photo looks toward the Atlantic, where a gargantuan cruise ship is docked. 

The Orchid Key Inn, built in the 50s, is now a stylishly updated small hotel.

The red brick Custom House, built in 1891, is now home to the Key West Museum of Art and History. 

The Bourbon Street Pub glittered with thousands of holiday lights during our stay.  On New Year’s Eve, we were among those who packed Duval Street to watch the pub’s Annual Shoe Drop.  At midnight, the drag queen Sushi descends from the balcony in a gigantic red high-heeled pump. Had it been entirely up to us, my husband and I would most likely have avoided the crowd.  But last year in San Francisco, as we joined the throng for a phenomenal fireworks display, our daughter discovered her taste for a high decibel New Year’s Eve among the boisterous multitudes.   

Each time we passed the aptly named La Te Da, we had the disorienting feeling of being in a Provincetown magically transported to a balmy, tropical setting.  This hotel/restaurant/entertainment complex reminds us of several in that old Cape Cod town, including the Crown & Anchor and The Waterford.  (For P-Town posts, see here and here.)  La Te Da’s main building is a charming white frame house that could belong to a chic grandmother.  The atmosphere is homey, gracious and inviting.  On our final night in Key West, after a delicious dinner at La Te Da’s airy covered porch, we stopped by the piano bar to hear two talented teenagers put a new spin on classic cabaret tunes.  I kept expecting to bump into Bobby Wetherbee, Leslie Jordan or Hedda Lettuce. 

The contrast between the morning of January 1, 2015 and the night before could hardly have been more extreme.  As I walked down Duval Street around 8:30 AM on New Year’s Day, all was hushed and serene.  I was reminded of Edward Hopper’s paintings of small town Main Streets deserted in the early light of Sunday morning.  Not many hours after the oversize champagne bottle on the balcony of La Te Da had popped its cork and rained down confetti on a lively crowd singing Auld Lang Syne, the complex appeared blanketed in shadowy sleep. 

An unnaturally quiet Duval Street, on the first morning of 2015. 

Spring break approaches, and I have yet to complete my intended posts from our winter break three months ago in Key West. (For previous Key West posts, see here, here,  and here.)  I’m going to try to get them out before Easter.  Here goes. 

Among my reasons for wanting to visit this southernmost spot in the U.S. has always been its architecture.  I loved what I’d seen of this small city in photos, its narrow streets jam-packed with a fanciful variety of frame houses, from tiny shotgun homes to grand mansions.  Key West’s densely constructed historic district is one of the largest in the country.  It did not disappoint.  I found it a great pleasure to wander the picturesque streets in the January warmth, gazing at unique, quirky homes.  Most have shady, inviting porches and small gardens lushly planted with exotic, often supersized foliage. I only wish I could have had Kiko by my side.  I think he would have loved the atmosphere.  What follows are some of my favorite Key West homes, all privately owned and meticulously maintained.