dismantled the roadblock. "We seceded where others failed" became the fledgling Republic's motto. Visitors can pick up Conch Republic passports in local shops.

Later, Jay and I meandered down to Mallory Square for the nightly Sunset Celebration. Street performers intermingled with vendors selling hand-made wares and drinks. Cocktails--make that plural--are mandatory. Dogs jumped through hoops, cats performed tricks. A man juggled fire torches while riding a 12-foot-high unicycle.

The sun's descent often produces spectacular color here, but the view that evening was not terribly alive. Still, it is nice to be standing on the dock with your partner, gazing into the sea.

Key West's resident population includes many Cuban immigrants. We dined that night at a nearby Cuban restaurant on ropa vieja (literally, "old clothes"), a traditional dish of slow-cooked brisket, which is then pulled, giving the meat a dingy look but tasting tender and succulent.

We arose to the roosters' crowing the next morning. These cocky fellows live everywhere in Key West, enjoying a free-range diet and a hassle-free life as the town's unofficial mascot. We chose to blow our own diets with a decadent breakfast of bacon, lobster, and tomato Benedict at the Blue Heaven Restaurant.

A sign at this unpretentious Key West favorite announces that they serve "heaven on a fork and sin in a glass." As at many outdoor venues here, roosters mingle casually with the patrons.

Old Town Key West bustles with tourists, many of them aging hippies, artsy New Age folk, or cruise-line patrons spending the day in port. They stroll the streets browsing for bargain tees, conch shells, pirate flags, and margaritas.

I insisted on pounding the pavement to the Southernmost Tip, distinctly marked by an ugly oversized channel buoy. This popular location

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