Chickens and Kooks

As Dave slumbered in our hotel room yesterday morning, I took a walk eastward, away from downtown. There's a ton of new development out that way, on land that used to be occupied by...something. (I'm not sure what was there before. Industry?) There are lots of new apartments, including this building with a colossal mural on the side of Freddie Mercury, Elton John and Jimi Hendrix. None of them have anything to do with Tampa as far as I know, except perhaps for passing through on musical tours, but I like the mural.

I soon found myself in Ybor (pronounced EEbor) City, a traditionally Cuban and Italian area and the center of Tampa's historic cigar-making industry. It's now the nightclub district, although there's new residential there too.

Like Key West, Ybor City is famous for its wandering chickens. They're all over the place. Apparently some of the people who have moved into those new residential buildings aren't crazy about the quantity of crowing roosters in the streets. But hey, the roosters were there first.

I stopped for a cafe con leche at a cafe (not La Tropicana, which is closed now, but one nearby). I also ordered a guava and cheese croissant. The cashier, wearing a Grateful Dead skull and roses t-shirt, was clearly in training and everyone seemed to be moving slowly -- I swear they were all on edibles. The coffee eventually emerged but I had to ask again for the croissant and as it turned out, they didn't have any left. Maybe the employees got the munchies? I just stuck with the coffee.

I stopped by Jose Marti Park (more chickens!) and reminisced about all the crazy nights I'd spent in Ybor City nightclubs in my youth. Then I rode the free streetcar back into downtown and walked back to the hotel via the riverfront -- a section of the Riverwalk that Sue and I had bypassed on Sunday.

We'd arranged to meet Dave's parents for lunch, and they arrived at our hotel about 45 minutes early. I went down to chat with them in the lobby and told them a bit about the historic nature of the hotel. I was interrupted by a woman sitting nearby who insisted it had been built in 1905 and not in the '20s, as I'd said -- and then proceeded to tell us about the various famous people who'd stayed there and then about the history of Tampa. "I've never been here before but I did research," she said. I was dying to respond, "Lady, I GREW UP HERE!" But I held my tongue. (The hotel, by the way, was built in 1926.)

We went to Ulele for lunch, in a little park adjacent to a quiet canal that extends to the river. (That's restaurant seating on the right in the photo above, but we ate inside.) I had a shrimp po' boy sandwich, which was yummy, and then we drove up to Lutz to meet with my stepsister and collect her car, which I borrowed to drive to Jacksonville. Dave and his parents headed down to Bradenton, where I'll see them in a few days, and I began the long drive north.

It's a four-hour drive from Tampa to Jacksonville, where my mom and brother live. And for me it took a little longer because I got caught in a traffic jam of uncertain origin (what the Nigerians call a "go-slow," which is a great term) on I-75. I didn't dilly-dally on the drive and took just a few photos, like this graffiti in the small town of Waldo.

And these signs outside Jacksonville. That's North Florida for you.

So now I'm at my brother's for the next two days. We'll go see Mom today and run some important errands.