Time for Margaritaville

It was flat, alright.

Karma? Or what? Since we left the Mexican fishing village, we've had a flat tire on a plane, a flight that couldn't take off, a screw up in motel reservations and now a flat tire on our rented Toyota Prius?! What next?

AAA came to the rescue in no time at all, quickly jacked up the car, put on the spare, a toy-sized tire, and we were able to get a replacement vehicle before heading south to The Keys.

But when we got to Marathon we found that the real estate agency that was supposed to give us the keys to the house we had rented for the week failed to leave them for us and no one was around because it was Easter. Keyless in the Keys. The owner quickly arranged to have the neighbor open the place up for us. We'll work out the rest with the agency tomorrow. Small hiccups, but maybe the major problems are behind us.

I like the atmosphere here so far. It's very Low Key.
Big Dog and I agreed that it had a kind of Saipan-ish vibe. American but a bit third world and funky. It's so much better than antiseptic franchises and cookie cutter resorts. The rain clouds have gone away, it's warm (and humid! too humid for K who is used to the high desert dry, but I love it!) and the sun is starting to set. Must be time for Margaritaville!