I Adopted a Sea Turtle to Offset My Dolphin Guilt
One week in the Keys. Two great friends. Twelve mojitos. And a surprisingly emotional animal ethics arc.
It’s a quick check in this week, at the end of a lovely time spent with a good friend/college roomie and a newish to me friend who is equally awesome.
The Florida Keys were good to us. I came down for sunshine and maybe a little soul balm, and I’m leaving with sand in every bag and a slightly improved outlook on life. Here’s the insights I’m bringing home (besides the mild sunburn and a new appreciation for long sleeved shirts with hoods that dry fast):
You don’t need a packed itinerary. Sometimes the best days are the ones where the only plan is “pool, nap, happy hour.” Repeat as necessary.
Adult friendship is a miracle of logistics—and it’s worth it. Three calendars, two flights (one was late, it got complicated), and several grocery lists later, we pulled it off.
Mojitos count as hydration. Especially if you drink them close to the ocean and follow up with chips and salsa.
Every group needs someone to yell “sunblock reapply!” at intervals. We didn’t all listen, but the effort was there.
You can talk about everything, or nothing, and it still feels like connection. Also, the best conversations happen in swimsuits with wine in plastic cups. We all bring something in the form of baggage and we all got our moment to unload it and share the burden. It was cathartic. We also danced a lot.
The playlist matters. We’re Gen X 80s kids, which meant a rotating soundtrack of Cake, REM, and a few deep-cut bangers that made us feel 17 again, but with better sunscreen.
Some places make you want to stay forever. Or at least come back every year or so. The Keys might be one of those.
Sometimes you gotta just go with the flow. See also: that boat trip to a Memorial Day event that was…eye opening on a sociological scale. That is all I will say on the matter.
In the interest of karmic balance, I did adopt a sea turtle at the Marathon Key Sea Turtle Hospital. In the interest of full disclosure, this was to offset the mild guilt I felt after swimming (legally and respectfully) with a couple of dolphins at the local rescue and rehab center. I am nothing if not a soft-hearted hypocrite with a credit card.
If you need me next week, I’ll be staring wistfully out the window, wondering why I don’t live somewhere with palm trees and an open container policy.
Your turn:
What’s your favorite (or dream) beachy getaway and why? Drop your answer in the comments, especially if it involves fruity drinks, hammock naps, or ethically complicated animal encounters. I want to hear it all.
xoxo
Liz
P.S.
For those playing along at home:
Drink pairing: a minty mojito with a heavy pour of rum and just a hint of regret
Wine option: chilled Albariño or whatever you bought because the label looked like vacation
Soundtrack: Cake’s “Short Skirt/Long Jacket,” REM’s “Nightswimming,” and the rest of your high school angst playlist on shuffle
Snack: Alternating between fresh watermelon and dark chocolate because calories don’t count at the beach
P.P.S.
Here are some vibes from the trip in photo form:
