No Trani, but a visitor from Home--Son David's whirlwind daze in Key West

Davo's famous swing

David's "surprise" visit Thursday to Saturday last week lifted us out of our gloom.  We set up two golf days at Key West Golf Club and the competition began.  He and I played his friend Pete and Glen.  They gave me 36 strokes (ha, ha), and I handily won 12 of 18 holes for our team.  Such generosity.  For Key Westers--which Glen and I were fast becoming--the 60s were a little on the chilly side.  For David, wearing shorts and golf shirts in the sunshine was fabulous.  The guys had a ball and the competition on side bets was ferocious. The wildlife on the golf course was quite entertaining.  In keeping with Key West tradition, roosters, hens, ducks and other colorful bird life proliferated.  We also observed several intricately marked iguanas at a respectful distance.

After golf we headed to Mallory Square for the sunset festivities.  We enjoyed a late lunch there, and then meandered among the various street performers' acts.  Davo was drafted to "assist" both the Catman, and the Great Rondini.  He is such a ham. 

Most of the evening was spent at Willie T's philosophising and listening to a singer who alternated between his own songs, and some the boys knew very well and accompanied with boisterous chorus.  When our own conversation took our attention from the singer, he called us out and asked me if I knew what he had been singing about.  That was a first for me. I hadn't the faintest idea.  Oh well, I'm sure the management appreciated the huge amount of money we had spent on drinks there.  But still, ....

It was hard to say good bye to Davo.  His visit had given us such a lift.

 

We passed the time on Saturday and Sunday by walking all over town.  There was an arts and crafts fair along Whitehead Street on Saturday.  We followed the advice of the Cruising Guide and tried some of its recommended eateries.  Kelly's Caribbean Bar and Grille seated us in the upstairs garden and honored a coupon for two free Bloody Mary's with our brunch.  Very nice. 

We walked the short distance to Mel Fisher's Treasures from the Atocha exhibit.  Having lived in Seville years ago, we were interested to see the many references to that city among the treasures.  Gold and silver from the New World were flowing back to that city from the South American conquests.  I remember Nuestra Senora de la Atocha from among the many churches dedicated to the Virgin in Seville.  The ships in her flotilla were lost in a hurricane off Key West in the 1600s.  Spain needed the riches of America to fund her wars in Europe.  Dutch, French and British warships, as well as pirates, preyed on her treasure laden galleons.  Mel Fisher spent most of his life searching the lost ships; he was one of the first to carry a marine archeologist and historian as part of his search crew.  It's an amazing story and a wonderful exhibit.

Glen wanted to get "home" to watch the golf match; I was determined to see "The King's Speech," playing at a lovely little cinema near Truman Annex.  What a great story--the stammering younger prince, who suffered abuse at the hands of a cruel nanny, from doctors who wanted to straighten his knobby knees with steel braces, from tutors who insisted that he change from left to right handed, and a brusque and critical King-father who never showed affection.  No wonder he stuttered.  Colin First is every inch a prince who never had friends, who never had met an ordinary person who would become the king in wartime England.  He had a loving wife, however; and she introduced him to the self trained speech therapist who helped him conquer his fears and develop his "voice." 

We were still very anxious over the delay in receiving the transmission that had been ordered on the 24th.  Almost a week had passed.  It had not appeared on Saturday.  We took deep breaths and agreed not to discuss it at all on Sunday, just enjoy the beautiful weather, a long walk, and another lovely sunset.

 Monday would come soon enough, and, just maybe, the trani would miraculously appear.

                                                                   In breathless anticipation,

                                                                   Maureen and Glen
                                                                   January 30, 2011