My parents recently celebrated their 53rd wedding anniversary and I'm spending today arranging for their hospice care. Last year, my then boyfriend avoided the holiday and I remember walking in the rain to pick up some grub from a local restaurant. I ate at home, completely alone, wondering why I would choose to love a man who didn't quite appreciate me. He never deserved me. And there's a pun there: de-serve. He rarely operated in the "service" of love. In fact, he did me a great disservice.
But I'm none the worse for wear. There are greater forms of love. Pure love: love that is boundless and that makes your heart swell, having nothing to do with romance or sex.
So this year, on this day, at least, I'm quite happy to be single and celibate, because I am enduring one of the greatest unconditional loves a human can experience: helping two people you cherish deeply make an end of life transition. Yes, it sounds terribly sad, and it is, but there is also joy and dignity in your last days, just as there is joy and dignity when you begin your human journey out of the birth canal.
When I visit my mom at the skilled nursing facility, I sing to Funny Valentine and other tunes to her. I place my hand on her heart. Her heartbeat was the first sound I ever heard in the womb and it's music to my ears. The day it stops beating, her vibration and rhythm will still resonate within me.
And I'm sure my future husband will appreciate my capacity to love in this way. See you soon, my funny valentine. Laughter with a infinite dose of love is the best medicine to help us heal. What's keeping you, dear? I know that if I ever walk in the rain again, it will be while holding your hand and we'll frolic like kids.
This post falls under the Manola Blablablanik series.
Some people will tell you that love is a social contract. Others will tell you it’s a disease rife with melancholy and heartbreak. And yet others will tell you that, if done right with copious hard work, it’s a panacea.
Everything I just mentioned above is the biggest bullshit, because love is all that and yet it isn't all that.
A contradiction. Yes, I know.
If two people unite their bodies, make commitments to their souls, then "love" become a virus you can’t get rid of easily when someone goes away. This is love on a cellular level.
A friend of mine recently said, “love doesn’t know time.” And that’s true.
There’s “clock” time and then there’s “soul” and “love” time.
When you truly love someone profoundly, that love does get under your skin. I’m not a scientist, but I would venture as far to guess that it probably transforms mitochondria. Two patterns of DNA come together, for better or worse.
And why the worse? Who wrote that shitty, negative vow? It should always be for the better.
Our hearts aren't kept in tight, bound boxes. They spiral and cross boundaries, like the DNA helix, whirling and creating amazing shapes and possibilities. Love doesn't just end; sometimes, unfortunately, it stays inside, all dressed up with nowhere to go.
One of my favorite lines from The English Patient is from character Katherine Clifton’s notebook: “tastes we have swallowed, bodies we've entered and swum up like rivers.”
Intimacy requires this incredible journey, fishing for comfort and solace in the heart, up dark, scary rivers, hiking on a body full of hair and bumps, of smells and holes and vulnerability, all beautiful, binding and incredibly annoying when regular life kicks in, constantly shifting from the banal to the sacred, back and forth.
Finding the highest gift of all -- to love someone, to love yourself and be present for a greater good as a couple made up of two individuals -- all that in communion with the body of another, all that in mutual adoration and respect.
Tonight, as I write this, the clouds float slowly and gently through the pale blue sky. But love, to me, without you in a state of embrace, it’s as if the soft vapor was sandpaper grating my skin.
The last time I asked my unrequited love to let me go, to never speak to me again, I ended the night with comfort food. What could be better than pappardelle noodles? It reminded me of our lovemaking, warm and buttery but still al dente, him stiff enough to please, but us melting in between my legs.
I dined alone, stoically, having no seasoning in my dish other than butter, crushed black pepper, a wee bit of chicken broth, a dash of pecorino romano and the salty taste of my tears.
And then I laughed at how “the salty taste of my tears” would sound so corny in writing.
And then I cried some more about the cooking process that led to this last supper.
It’s the yin of pasta and the yang of sauce.
For months, he’d start hard but stay dry in his heart, my hot water being the only place where he could crack, soften and let go in some kind of crazy sauce of devotion. You see, in order to be happy as a couple, the pasta must let the sauce stick to it, without fear, and both ingredients must blend in harmony.
He was my noodle. The only noodle I adored for a very long time. But my noodle had no give and wouldn’t let me stick, no matter how many wonderful, warm yummy sauces I offered him.
And this got me thinking: you can’t have your pasta and eat it, too.
This is the recipe for love. Both noodle and sauce must surrender to a heavenly combination of flavors and texture and be willing to repeat or vary over and over again, each night, as you humbly prepare supper for someone whose kisses refill that empty pot every day.
My pappardelle, were, of course, delicious, even if I had to eat them while watching stupid reruns on TV.
To be fair, he always complimented me on my cooking. Too bad he didn’t complement my heart.
Photo via VancityAllie on Flickr via Creative Commons license.
Remember the original nom de plume that started this blog? Well, she's back! All posts under the Manola Blablablanik series are semi-fictional.
Last night, my ex-boyfriend -- who can’t seem to let go of me and I’ll admit, I’m still holding on to a string or two -- came over for a late supper.
During the otherwise pleasant evening, he kept farting in a seemingly involuntary manner. He apologized with each burst of air from his anus and said he didn’t know why he was having digestive trouble. Certainly, it wasn’t my delicious beef and peppercorn stew, served with jasmine rice. He was farting before he even walked through the door. In fact, he probably deployed gaseous emissions to fuel his SUV on the way to my pad.
You’ve heard the old saying: “familiarity breeds contempt,” which means you’ve let go of boundaries and courtesies to the point of disrespecting someone you know very well, romantically or otherwise.
Now, let me coin the phrase “familiarity breeds gas,” which means you don’t care anymore about breaking wind within earshot of your beloved.
Well, he didn't do it on purpose like a drunk, sophomoric frat boy. He's usually a polite, classy guy. And mustering up my deepest compassion, I reflected upon the fact that sometimes our bodies get the best of us, no matter what our best intentions. I had to set my ego aside and accept that the man in front of me was simply farting. I couldn't take it personally. I couldn't equate him with the stream of wind parting from his rectal orifice.
LOVE IN THE AGE OF NO CHOLERA
And this got me thinking. He’s over 50 and still a spring chicken by today’s baby boomer standards.
I’m 45. And like many woman my age, I take care of two elderly parents, who thank God are still stable enough to live in their own apartment. But there’s a reason we call them “old farts,” because old people just fart all the time. In fact, you could be having a conversation with an old fart and it's like a machine gun crescendo in between every two sentences, punctuated by coughs that are trying to mask farts, which is a very ineffective form of subterfuge a sotto voce. Look, your farts will always be louder than your cough. That technique just doesn't work!
So if you must fart, at least do it honestly.
This geriatric flatulence is cute and causes numerous giggles, just like it’s so adorable to wipe a baby’s butt when it’s slathered with stinky green poo.
But babies are different. They wear ribbons on their heads and simply don’t know better. Sphincter control comes later in life.
“Lord have mercy, what do I have to look forward to?” I thought this morning. “Old guys who fart, burp and then on top of that, add the indignity of snoring in bed without being able to get it up other than that rare morning woody?”
When we’re younger, we dream of co-habitation in the prince and princess castle. No woman in her twenties falls in love and thinks: “Oh, I can’t wait to go buy cheap IKEA furniture with you, honey! And how I’ll savor the first time you fart and I queef under the plush down comforter!”
But by the time you hit 40 and are either divorced, widowed or a bonafide spinster, it’s a whole different story. Maybe it’s just better to be in a relationship that preserves two separate households. He can have his man cave and fart, burp, snore to his heart’s content. And she can keep her girly, candle-scented apartment intact – save for the occasional fart invasion when he tries to mark his territory.
Actually, the fart symphony didn’t bother me so much. I was more worried the fumes would kill my houseplants.
And truth be told though, the way to a woman’s heart is not through farts, but if that’s all that’s wrong with him, you might want to compromise and turn his prodigious talent into a helium balloon business.
TO COUGAR OR NOT TO COUGAR
When I lived on Miami Beach, my then neighbor Helen – a 92 year-old Jewish widow with much chutzpah to spare – once told me: “I don’t like to date old men. I changed enough diapers already raising my kids. I won’t even look at a guy unless he’s under 70.”
What a cougar she was.
So yeah, then there’s that. Maybe there’s a good reason to date younger men. I mean changing diapers isn’t a chapter in the Kama Sutra. And don’t let me get into weak bladders and pee smell. Not particularly sexy.
But see, it's all about unconditional love, when you can accept poo, farts, burps, snores and sneezes as part of intimacy. And when you get married at a young age “for better or worse,” you are signing up for that.
Sigh. This is the irony of romance over 40. Just as you are growing wiser and more in control of your life, you start losing control of your sphincters.
So wherever you are over 40, have faith that love is still very possible. And you might just accept and love someone with great passion, not warts, but farts and all.
Be prepared, however, to wear a Hazmat-grade gas mask well into your mid-life and old age. I wonder if they come in pretty pastel colors and with sparkly bling? Maybe spunky 70-something Betsey Johnson should rethink her designs!
The view from one of the rooftop terraces at The Reach. Simply divine.
“Been there, done that, but in a good way.” That’s what I often say of many destinations I keep going back to, picking only favorite restaurants, bars and beaches to visit while I’m there. Key West is like that for me and although I love trying new things, it’s a small island and I’ve gotten to know folks there, so sometimes, I feel like a Miami expat local.
Mandatory stops usually include The Rum Bar to say hello to bartender and rum expert Bahama Bob and sip on one of his legendary cocktails; Café Solé to catch up with Chef Correa and indulge in fragrant soups, conch carpaccio and his signature fresh-caught hogfish; or groove to some live music at The Green Parrot and greet owner John.
And no trip to Key West is complete without a picnic at Fort Zachary Taylor State Park beach.
So, when I was invited on a press trip to visit Waldorf Astoria brand The Reach and Casa Marina resorts, I figured I’d be wandering off property a bit – they even gave us complimentary taxi passes – but folks, I never left each property. That’s how good it was. You couldn’t have pried my big Cuban butt out of there with a crane even if you wanted to and I never even set foot on Duval Street.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty to do in Key West, but if what you want is to really, truly get away from it all and focus on each other, these two hotels totally fit that bill and then some.
My room at the The Reach was a spacious suite with a luscious king size bed, which unfortunately didn’t afford a view of the ocean that was available from the balcony, but was placed in a lovely separate room, ideal for nooky after a day in the sun.
The beach here has soft sand and if you don’t absolutely melt in relaxation after hanging around under the palm trees or the numerous lookout terraces, then you definitely need to call your doctor for a tranquilizer.
FOOD AS FOREPLAY
Eat this but save room for the decadent chocolate cake as well.
But more importantly: food at The Strip House. Yes, it’s implied: tender beef and photos of half-naked women all in one sentence and quite a mouthful. This is quite possibly the most erotic yet tasteful place I’ve ever eaten at (besides my own home, of course, where I might be found cooking wearing nothing more than a simple apron). Red leather pullmans and classy black-and-white backlit vintage photos of women photographed during the 1900s at the Manasse studio in Vienna, some even showing a peek of boob, grace the restaurant, where the food was ridiculously good.
My fellow travel writers and I were practically stabbing each other with forks to see who could eat more of the twice-baked potatoes, served with a cut of beef slathered in a creamy Béarnaise sauce redolent of tarragon. Don’t even get me started on the creamy lobster bisque -- I’d take it intravenously!
And if you don’t become randy after trying the half-ton chocolate cake with a quaff of port -- seriously, if I were a man it would be instant Viagra -- then again, please consult your physician.
The breakfast buffet was served in the plush lounge area at The Strip House. Enjoy bacon with a visual hint of boob.
It was with great regret I left The Reach to go to Casa Marina, but I was surprised with yet another heavenly king size bed and this time, a view of the ocean from the bed. So yeah, sex with a view is available at many of the rooms in this classic hotel -– Henry Flagler’s last property, which has been renovated, but still has that old Florida resort feel without coming across as snobby or pretentious, even if you do pay top dollar for your Tommy Bahama flip flops in the gift shop.
After spent with passion, prop your head up on the plush pillows and you'll see most of this. Not too shabby and utterly romantic.
COUPLES MASSAGE
The beach here is a bit rockier than the one at The Reach, but folks, before you even dip your toes in the water, there are two secluded tiki huts, festooned with orchids, where couples can enjoy aromatherapy massages while listening to the waves softly lap up on the shore.
It really doesn't get better than this.
I’m not kidding you; this massage experience will change your life. I’ve had hundreds of massages and this one was definitely on my top 5 list. Ask for Judith at Spa Al Maré and the specially blended organic massage oil aptly called Joy, which includes exotic ylang-ylang, one of my favorite scents and a known aphrodisiac. Dudes, if you think that’s too girly, pick a muskier scent like sandalwood or opt for citrus. Breathe in the salty ocean air mixed with these organic oils and you’ll be thanking me.
The massage is a holistic healing experience and while it’s not intended to make you frisky, it’s hard to imagine someone not walking away completely calm yet revived. Relaxing before romping sounds like a good idea to me. And guess what? You get to keep the oil blend, so you can create your own happy endings later on your own.
BUILD CASTLES IN THE SAND, NOT THE AIR
As you all know, I usually try to sneak in a fishing trip, but that didn’t happen this time. I did, however, build a sandcastle!
A professional sand scultpure by Sandisles at the Reach. You can see mine here, which was created at Casa Marina.
Try this experience like a kind of spiritual foreplay in which you work on creating something together. It’s meditative in many ways, but also a kind of tantric teamwork and relationship building exercise. I picked a sandcastle because that’s the traditional form and at one point we even called it “The Ron Jeremy meets Rapunzel House of Pleasure” because of its cylindrical, phallic shape. But that just was yours truly cracking pervy jokes while multi-tasking -- you know, shoveling sand and drinking cool gin and tonics with fresh squeezed limes.
You, however, can create any form you want. The whole process takes about two and a half hours.
The sand comes from quarries near Hialeah – yeah, I know, the jokes were flying “I come to Key West and I’m talking about Hialeah? Coño!” -- but it was so soft and comforting to the touch, very malleable. And because it’s crushed rock mixed with water, it provides a very hands-on sensual experience using natural material. It has to get hard yet stay moist while you pound it down before you gently create shapes. Rather yin and yang, male and female qualities in the whole process. You get my drift.
Sand sculpture pro Marianne will guide you through the process after which you’ll have created an original souvenir. You can’t take it home with you but you will have the memories; make sure to take plenty of photos.
It's probably obvious by now why I was glued to the resorts and never set foot on Duval Street during this trip. A sunset dinner at Casa Marina was yet another reason why. Although it was bit windy during our stay and the food got a bit cold during service, nothing could deter me from devouring the spicy conch chowder you’ll find on the regular menu at Toes in the Sand, a kind of pop-up dining experience, because yes, you’ll be eating lobster tails with your toes in the sand and playing footsies under the table in this very romantic outdoor dining setting. Ideally, book your meal during the full moon.
Now, far be it from me to tell you how awesome it would be to “enjoy” the hammocks strung between palm trees after the sun goes down and the moon rises. There’s nothing like a good, discreet smooch on the beach to kindle passion. Wink, wink.
A couple enjoying a sunrise on the pier with the tempting hammocks in the foreground.
I think I left a little bit of my heart in this section of Key West, as evidenced by my drive back to Miami, where I absolutely had to stop at Morada Bay in Islamorada for a late lunch. You see, traveling to the Keys is like scuba diving. You need to decompress before you reach the surface. So, I just happened to be sitting next to the owner of some very famous South Beach nightclubs – A French guy, o la la! -- and we struck up a conversation. What are the odds? It was rather surreal and while talking to him, I felt the rough edges of Miami Beach creeping into my mind in my now eroding state of bliss as I was approaching Miami-Dade County. And it made me think: Folks come to Miami Beach for vacation. Miamians go to the Keys for vacation. Or they end up moving there, eventually!
I love the Florida Keys. And so should you. Can’t wait to go back.
ANNOYING FTC DISCLOSURE
I didn’t pay a dime for this trip except for gas in my car and my lunch at Morada Bay, plus a sandwich I picked up at Porky’s BBQ in Marathon. But I made sure to check that every morsel of sponsored food and every room I enjoyed was available to you, my dear audience, in the same exact condition. Just ask the PR reps how much I pestered them with fact-checking. All suggestions and opinions here are my own. I aint gonna lie and I never do. Feel free to contact me any time for South Florida travel questions @vicequeenmaria.
No, it's not the Caribbean. But pretty damn close. Thank heaven for that.
In my never-ending search for Miami getaways -- folks, that means I want to get away from Miami, not tourists coming to Miami -- I discovered the Hilton Key Largo Resort. It all happened while I was organizing the annual unconference SxSe, aka South by Southeast. Mind you, that was a social media tweetup with a bunch of local geeks, yet I couldn’t help but notice how darn romantic this property was, nestled on the west side of a very narrow strip of key.
And because I was so impressed, I'm including it in my Romancing the Keys series -- so jot it down for possible quick, one-hour escapes from Miami to the north Florida Keys.
Talk about getting away. For me, Florida Bay views outdo the Atlantic. Yes, the ocean is to be revered, but it gets washed out in certain lighting conditions and has no structure. There’s something about the turquoise and teal waters of the bay, outlined by green mangrove islands, that provides relief for eyes tired of so much urban concrete congestion.
Having fished and explored most of Miami's coastline, I can absolutely assure you there is no place in Miami-Dade with the same, expansive view.
A Florida hammock surrounds the resort, which was, again, so easy on the eyes. The manicured wilderness brought me closer to nature while enjoying creature comforts and I never had to worry about my ass being chased by an alligator. (Yes, I've actually had to worry about that in the past.) If you're squeamish about hardcore Florida backcountry experiences, this locale provides just the right 101 introductory and most elegant course for you.
The 12.5 acre forest features a trail with a ScoutAbout activity that's mainly designed for kids, but it's also a hoot (please excuse the pun) if you are a tree hugger nerd like me. And it's just plain pretty.
The resort’s beach is shallow, but very calm since it’s not highly affected by the pounding waves of the Atlantic on the other side of the key. One word: relaxing. Actually, two words: absolutely relaxing. Pull up a lounge chair, plunk it in the water and laze to your heart’s content while sipping a cocktail from the tiki bar. If you're sun-phobic like me, there's still plenty of shade under the old-growth trees to enjoy the outdoors without risk of sunburn. (Sunburn doesn't make for good sexual intimacy. Trust me.)
I won’t be the one to tell you to frolic in the private saltwater beach at night (and if you do go for a moonlight dip, keep it to yourselves), but for insatiable water babies there’s also two pools and a giant jacuzzi on the south side of the resort.
The potential for a snooze is high here. Be forewarned.
The resort is family-friendly, but it all shuts down early enough at night for those who prefer quiet romance. My room faced the small beach, which had easy access to the water and a long dock where I sat under the stars conversing with my sweetheart in comfortable lounge chairs. Our plush king-size bed was just a stroll away. I won't tell you what happened next.
If “sex with a view” is on your list, then do book a room a couple of stories higher – it’s absolutely breathtaking and peaceful.
Room with a view. Of course, when I see this, I think about what fish I could catch, not necessarily nooky.
The upstairs restaurant also boasts the same sweeping view of Florida Bay, a body of water that is important to the state’s natural ecosystem. Paraglide from above, paddleboard on the flats or take a nature tour with the hotel’s outdoor activity concessionaire, Caribbean Watersports, and see it with your own eyes.
On Friday nights, enjoy live acoustic music making your own s’mores over a bonfire on the beach. If you think s’mores are the camping treats of young scouts, try kissing your beloved while chomping on a yummy graham cracker laden with gooey chocolate and marshmallow. Just make sure the kids aren’t looking if the kisses are naughty. Tip: there’s plenty of room in the nature path for a quick smooching escapade.
My sweetheart actually won a trophy for most creative s'more. Go ahead, try it. Be goofy and have fun.
Local bar and dining options outside the property include the laid-back Pilot House, which serves fresh seafood daily, with a rockin' spicy conch chowder -- seriously, I still salivate thinking about it and I'm a huge stickler about conch, it's an aphrodisiac, after all! Also, their reasonable happy hour food and drink specials bring shame to any price-gouging waterfront Miami Beach establishment.
Hilton Key Largo Resort is definitely on my list of “wish I was there and not in Miami” Florida Keys spots. We traveled there in late September and the weather was absolutely perfect, but I hope I don’t have to wait until then to return.
ANNOYING BUT REQUIRED FTC DISCLOSURE
I paid for all my expenses but I did get a media rate for my room and free wi-fi. All opinions, as always, are my own.
Who wouldn't want to get married or fall in love here?
The words "50 Shades of Blue" were emblazoned across the quaint trolley. “Does this have anything to do with the racy trilogy 50 Shades of Grey?” I asked. “No,” replied the media contact at South Seas Island Resort.
It’s a pity that the phrase "50 shades of something" -- insert your own fetish or preferred word here -- is associated with an erotic novel and a hilarious Lady Chatterly style parody with Selena Gomez. In fact, I shouldn’t even introduce this article with the phrase, but you know it would raise eyebrows, if not something else.
Because at South Seas Island Resort on Captiva Island on Florida's gulf coast, the phrase “50 Shades of Blue” is appropriate and not smutty at all, but lovely, tasteful, utterly elegant and very romantic, truly inspiring tranquility -- although, according to legend -- the island got its name most likely from semi-fictional pirate José Gaspar who is said to have dominated and kept female prisoners on the sandy strands for ransom.
I wasn't kidding.
But let's forget about pirates, domination and submission and get back to the simple color blue.
Blue is everywhere. There’s the sky and the water, as well as the interior and exterior décor that celebrates blue, my favorite color -- think azure, cyan, turquoise -- every hue imaginable. Here, you'll be literally surrounded by many shades of blue and soothing, complimentary colors. Add to this canvas radiant tropical flowers, green lawns and outrageous sunsets of beaming oranges and reds, and the palette completes the experience -- shades of an Impressionist painting provided by Mother Nature and savvy designers. If Paul Gauguin had been here during the reign of Calusa Indians, he may have been inspired.
South Seas sits on the tip of Captiva Island facing Redfish Pass and North Captiva: to the east, Pine Island Sound and to the west, the Gulf of Mexico. The energy and power of water here is evident, as the tides dance their tango back and forth in between the sound and the gulf, with ripping, strong currents and eddies of shallow, calm waters.
Oleanders blooming on the lawn by the salty gulf.
This heron never got spooked. It walked "with" me for about half an hour.
This is nature. Nature surrounded by luxury without abusing nature, calming to inner nature. Poet Derek Walcott once wrote "islands can only live if we have loved in them," and while he wasn't referring to Captiva, this particular island captures the sentiment.
Low tide provides amazing shelling on Sanibel and Captiva Islands.
It’s here where you’ll also find a sense of remoteness that would make any couple enjoy a quiet, intimate getaway. At night, there’s no light pollution. You can actually gaze upon a canopy of stars and no boom-boom music disturbs the moment in the background; it’s just the two of you with a deliciously cozy bed steps away and breezes as soundtrack.
Hold hands during a gulf coast sunset. Sip on cocktails as you watch dozens of dolphins corral baitfish close to shore – an amazing sight to behold. Go for long walks on the endless beach -- no high-rise condos or loud noises will interfere with your visual feast or sense of peace. Go shelling along Redfish Pass at low tide in the morning. Take a sunset cruise on a catamaran with Captiva Cruises. Get a couple’s massage at the Kay Casperson Spa at Chadwick's Square.
Redfish Pass is particularly beautiful.
A sunset cruise is a must for a romantic afternoon.
You'll want to take a few of these home, trust me.
And no matter what you do, make sure you buy some hand-made soaps at Captiva Provision Company to lather up good in that generously sized en-suite tub during your stay. The soaps are aromatic and leave the skin soft and smooth. The Himalayan Salt soap should not be rubbed directly on the skin, which -- wink, wink -- means you’ll need a partner and a pair of gentle hands to help you with the sensual bathing experience. This is a grand souvenir; I’ve been enjoying it every day since my trip in mid-November.
You can also pick up a few provisions here, including fine wines, spirits, sandwiches and gourmet snacks. A mini-fridge is available in the room and you may also request a microwave.
Blackened local red snapper with a tangy watermelon slaw.
For dining, go to Harbourside Grille and enjoy a romantic meal outdoors, which serves local fish in a sustainability program. Try the crab cake, fish spread and yes, I know fish is the focus here, but if you’re a meat lover, the filet mignon with broccolini, so tender in the mouth, made me say the “o” word out loud. Not that I’m shy about saying “orgasm,” but when I blurt it out, it’s because I really mean it!
Now, I’m not going to lie to you. South Seas is mainly a family-friendly resort, but for couples looking for an island escape, the best bet is to stay at the hotel at the Harbourside Marina section, walking distance from the beach, restaurants and amenities. Go in the fall, when kids are in school.
South Seas also offers a sailing school, but who cares when you can smooch at this outlook?
There are many accommodations in Captiva, but bet you a dollar nothing beats a kiss on the north tip of the island. It’s just that damn beautiful.
If you’re looking for a South Beach experience, with obnoxious music, model types in thongs gorging on mojitos from a pitcher and dudes with gold chains hitting on babes, this isn’t the resort for you. Expect people with pasty skin and regular bodies here. Also expect civilized, respectful behavior.
Cabanas are available and include a mini-fridge, snacks and wi-fi.
For those who want a relaxed day poolside, rent a cabana. Appropriately attired pool boys serve cocktails and snacks. One of the pools has streaming fountains – perfect for a shoulder massage. But rug rats may be around. Just be forewarned.
And for parents with kids tagging along, there are plenty of activities to keep them busy while you have “me” and “us” time. A whole section of the resort is devoted to children’s activities, including an arcade as well as the eco-friendly Sanibel Sea School where wee ones, tweens and even grown-ups enjoy educational field trips in the resort, much of which is treated as a nature sanctuary.
In fact, while I was there, I tried to rescue an injured anhinga. Nearby, Sanibel also boasts one of southwest Florida's most impressive bird refuges, the J.N. Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge.
South Seas also offers bike rentals, but they seemed rather wonky; the gears didn’t seem to work right. Take the trolley instead if you wish to roam about the resort, although you may be tempted to never leave the room or the beach area. The resort fee includes chairs, towels and umbrellas, so the only thing you have to worry about is what cocktail to order. This is a no-cash resort, so the wallet doesn't come with.
Smile while you take the trolley, thinking about the phrase 50 shades of blue.
Oh dear, what to do today?
This tropical paradise is just about a three-hour drive from Miami if you time it right and offers a great Florida getaway at a pristine location. While featuring luxe comfort, the resort is all about less is more -- feel your heart beat, listen to the surf, gaze at the stars as you get away from the hectic busyness of life. Indulge in moments of intimacy.
Disclosure: some parts of this experience were sponsored by the resort, others paid out of my own pocket, including some of the room nights, meals, all personal purchases and transportation. All opinions my own. I'd have written the same review even if it was completely sponsored.
An impromptu interview from 2011 with New York Times best-selling author Laura Doyle and Gladys Diaz of Heart's Desire International.
It has been a while since I've written about sex and relationships or even celibacy, but the topic is fresh on my mind as Heart's Desire will be hosting a Women's Lifelong Romance Retreat in Fort Lauderdale, June 22 - 24, with Laura Doyle.
Laura Doyle's "surrendered wife" and "surrendered single" concepts appear controversial at first glance, but they're not archaic tenets about being submissive. Being "surrendered" is about knowing how to communicate your desires properly, among other relationship skill sets.
The idea of learning how to communicate with men and learning to be more feminine isn't really that off the wall. And the principles of communication -- knowing what to say, when to say it and not becoming desperate in anticipation of a reply -- apply to all kinds of relationships, not just romantic attachments.
After reading Doyle's Surrendered Single, I examined my own communications skills more closely. And even though I'm not in a romantic relationship, I've found I've become more relaxed when it comes to handling communication challenges and have adapted more comfortably to the idea of openly and graciously receiving what is good for me.
Although, quite frankly, I still remain in a state of limbo, a kind of "suspended celibacy" (Doyle would probably scold me for saying that!), I must say I do feel prepared for the next right one -- the right and best possible one for me. It's just that right now, romance isn't a particular focus in my life, but as Doyle would say (and has said to me): "What are you waiting for? Love is your birthright!"
She's damn right, you know.
Heart's Desire International, a group of relationship coaches inspired by Doyle's principles, were a huge hit at my HeartCamp event last February. I expect the "man panel" at the retreat to be equally as successful because it's also good to know what thoughts are lurking in their thick skulls.
But we ladies can be pretty stubborn, too.
Have you ever gotten a phone call late at night from a panic-stricken girlfriend? OMG why isn't he calling me? Why did he say that? Why is he acting that way? I recently fielded one of these calls and had an 'aha' moment even though it had nothing to do with me. Before you place the onus on the other, examine your own behavior. True, sometimes a guy is just a jerk. But it does take two to tango, even when the dance is uncoordinated and clumsy.
I learned this beautiful lesson years ago, actually, when I literally danced tango. The best tango is the one that flows smoothly from one step to the next, with male and female energy gently pushing and pulling in a balanced yin and yang. In dance, those steps take practice. It's no different with relationships.
Why train to be in a relationship when you're not in one? For the same reason you train to run a marathon. You can't expect to just do it without skill sets, without preparing your mind and body for what's to come. Growing up, our parents didn't always teach us the best relationship skills. They did the best they could with what they were taught in turn. And in school, we focus on careers and book learning, but not what matters to the heart.
And more importantly: dating sucks. (Doyle will slap me on the wrist for that one!) Go armed with knowledge and the ability to have fun.
So single ladies, if you've ever splurged a few clams on shoes and hair, why not treat yourself to some spiritual pampering? If you wish to attend the retreat, sign up with the code MARIA and you'll get 50% off admission. The retreat includes not only seminars and lectures, but also a welcome cocktail party, a lunch aboard a yacht on the intracoastal, VIP party at Blue Martini and optional morning yoga, plus networking with like-minded women.
The retreat takes place at the beautiful Gallery One Doubletree Hilton, just off the intracoastal waterway. For more information visit Women's Lifelong Romance Retreat.
DISCLOSURE
I am receiving absolutely no financial compensation for any ticket purchases made with this special Sex and the Beach discount code. It's a gift to my readers courtesy of the retreat organizers! And you know I only give props to good stuff I believe in!
It was a pleasure to break bread and clink a glass with Matteo Tosso, Italy's best sommelier, according to Guida Espresso.
I may not have a Valentine this year, but I did get to enjoy a media lunch with hottie Matteo Tosso at Anacapri in Coral Gables last week. Though young, Matteo has earned the prestigious rank of Best Sommelier from the Guida L'ESPRESSO 2012 -- it's the European version of Wine Spectator, but in a more beautiful language.
And speaking of language, nothing could top the day after listening to Matteo, his girlfriend (yes, of course he's taken!) and a Beni Di Batasolio winery rep wax poetically about the wines in English inflected with the lilting, lyrical tones of that ancient tongue.
Our actual tongues were none the worse for wear either, as we sipped several varieties of wine from the Barolo region of Piedmonte in northwest Italy. Matteo is the sommelier at La Rei, a restaurant attached to Il Boscareto, a luxury property in this wooded, hilly area. Even at the tender age of 26, Matteo has over ten years of hospitality and wine studies under his belt.
Now, to be fair, I haven't been to Il Boscareto, so I can't write about it. But after having lunch with these folks, I did feel transported to my own mental movie script -- think a cross between Under the Tuscan Sun and Eat, Pray, Love with some very delicious ending. And the Barbaresco wine with Anacapri's hearty spaghetti and meatballs didn't hurt. In fact, I may have to reconsider my opinion of Scarpetta's spaghetti, as a good red wine goes so well with a truly meaty meatball -- a meatball with substance.
During lunch, we spoke of romantic picnics, sneaking away to make love in the vineyards and the aphrodisiac properties of white truffles -- expensive and exclusive to the Barolo region. By dessert time, my Coral Gables repast had turned into a much needed Italian vacation for my imagination.
A tough job but somebody has to carb load.
But it wasn't all sexy talk and it wasn't all noodles. My favorite red was the Briccolina, somewhat dry yet fruity and sweet enough to make a great accompaniment for our third course, grilled steak and arugula.
Which got me thinking: what's a sexy drink for Valentine's Day? The sweet Moscato D'Asti with fresh peaches and lemon gelato might be a good way to start or end the evening. Heck, any evening for that matter, when love is in the air. You can find Batasolio winery selections at Milam's, Crown Liquors, Epicure, Doral Wine and Spirits and of course, at Anacapri restaurants.
Don't be surprised if this story continues with a dispatch from Italy later this year. Sex and the Beach loves to cover romantic travel anywhere near or around a body of water, but I think a good glass of Barolo could count as a liquid equivalent. If I can't find a husband in Miami, maybe there's one abroad waiting to give me big baci e abbracci sometime in the future, which reminds me, I need to renew my passport!
A very international experience in Miami, in which I attended a Scotch whisky tasting and a reading from a historical romance novel set in Scotland – all on the same night. Read Part 1 here.
Miami author Michelle Marcos discusses her latest historical romance novel, Secrets to Seducing a Scot, at Books and Books in Coral Gables. Scottish Highlander men are jaw-dropping tall, according to Marcos. See the video to learn more about these kilt-wearing seducers and why a Miami girl is writing a romance novel trilogy on the subject.
THE WRITER
After spending a couple of hours tasting Dalmore Scotch with Richard Paterson and discovering the sensual angles of the experience, I sauntered into Books and Books feeling a certain frisson.
Miami novelist Michelle Marcos was reading from her latest novel, Secrets to Seducing a Scot. What an appropriate end to the evening, although somewhat ironic – as clearly the Scotch had already seduced me.
I first met Marcos when I was an "agent" in the massive Ford Fiesta Movement social media campaign. At the time, Marcos was working with Habitat for Humanity as Communications Director. During our acquaintance, she gave me a tour of Habitat for Humanity’s development in an underserved Miami neighborhood near Overtown.
Marcos, a lovely, soft spoken gal was not only championing this amazing non-profit, but also writing historical romance novels on the side. Later, she would take a career leap and dedicate herself to novel writing full-time.
Marcos looks and talks like your girl next door. She’s Christian, humble and devoted. But she has this saucy side to her and is a phenomenal wordsmith. You think blogging is hard? Try cranking out novels.
I just love that a Miami girl, encouraged by a big and warm Cuban family, is successfully writing romance novels set in the Scottish Highlands. You’d think that’s a stretch – but Marcos has the smarts and wit to pull it off. She represents the Cuban-American 305 truly, giving us volumes of good sensual read better than any telenovela out there.
You wouldn’t ever think to put Hialeah and Scottish Highland in the same sentence, but there you go. Weirder things have happened in this amazing universe.
THE BOOK
Secrets to Seducing a Scot had me spellbound, even though, I’ll confess, it’s my first read in the genre.
The closest I’ve ever gotten to historical romance is the obviously prudish Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Please don’t tell me Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte was a romance, because I’m thinking that stick-in-the-mud never had an orgasm or at least, never dared to speak the unimaginable of female pleasure. However, I’m pretty sure literary genius Jean Rhys, author of Wide Sargasso Sea, probably indulged in an orgasm or two even though she never wrote about that directly.
And of course, there were the gothic novels I studied in grad school, where there was always a chaste, orphaned heroine being threatened by all kinds of ghoulish fears, most of them, of course, imagined archetypes when she was really freaking out about being pressed to give up her chastity.
Giving it up was a big deal back in the day. Well, it still is. There's your vagina (the physical organ) and then there's your vagina -- the part of your body subjected to all kinds of moral, cultural, political and religious scrutiny.
Serena Marsh, the novel's heroine, isn't about to give it up so easily. She's a stunner and has a flair for fashion, but in spite of being beautiful, she's far from perfect or pure, which makes her character quite likable. A smart, sassy and pampered writer penning a Sex and the City style column for a London newspaper in the early 19th century, Serena March is obligated to travel to Scotland with her ambassador father, who must make peace between Scottish clan leaders and the English monarchy.
Under some twisted circumstances (I won’t give up the plot) Serena Marsh finds a “protector” in Malcolm Slayter, a knock-out macho Scotsman who is an outcast, belonging to no particular clan but fiercely loyal to anyone who should place her trust in him.
This is a true tango of masculine and feminine, spelling out “I’ll dance with you, but only if you can lead me.” This is Taming of the Shrew without the shrew, though Serena Marsh is admittedly stubborn, in a good way. Both man and woman seduce each other, just like a real tango, with equal leverage of power, even though it appears, at first glance, that the woman is strictly submissive.
There’s a fantasy scene written out where Serena Marsh imagines what it would be like to explore under her would-be lover’s kilt. If you can imagine a brazen woman owning her sexual bravado, this is it. But the city girl gets seduced by the Highland knave, though not overnight. She must also prove herself worthy of love.
Marcos is particularly attracted to the Regency era, so the novel takes you through that time period and not without some of the bloody violence you might also read about in history books. The sex scenes were hot, but I loved journeying through the Highlands with characters encountering potential danger at every corner.
Secrets to Seducing a Scot is Part 1 of a trilogy and I am absolutely aching for the release of Part 2 in the Spring 2012. My guess is that I’ll read this sipping a good Scotch from the Highlands.
All you need is love and a little creativity to pull off an utterly simple yet breathtaking wedding ceremony on Florida's gulf coast.
Do it in November, when the weather starts to cool down. Hire a pontoon boat for all your nearest and dearest and head out from Pine Island Marina to the desolate, southernmost point of North Captiva Island at Redfish Pass.
Ask your guests to take their shoes off, disembark on the beach and assemble at your chapel by the sea, built by mother nature.
Have a good friend of yours officiate the ceremony. Say your own vows. Improvise if you need to.
Kiss and don't care about getting the hem of your dress all wet. Collect shells. Soft golden sunlight is making everything look so damn gorgeous. It feels good, like getting married for the second time because you want to not because you have to.
On the way back to the reception, open the cooler for beers. Play Bob Marley. Dance under the full moon, its silver glow lighting the smooth waters of Pine Island Sound.
"One Love."
Yeah, that works.
What else do you need?
This wedding cynic totally dug her friend's beach ceremony. If you're going to get married Florida gulf coast style, less is definitely more.
Part 3 of a three-part series about romantic travel in the Florida Keys.
Love is in the air in Key West. Photo taken at the Hyatt Key West Resort and Spa.
If you've been following this series, you know I wended my way down to Key West via Pierre's in Islamorada and Hawks Cay. But ah, a big exhale ... a big lung-filled "ahhhhh" ... as wonderful as those two stops were, I can only sigh when I say Key West. I can only sigh because whenever I think Key West, "I can't wait to go back" creeps up into my conscious mind.
Key West is that ultimate destination for Miamians -- ultimate because if you drive any further, you'll end up in the water and ultimate because, unlike South Beach, it's so NOT South Beach. In Key West, you'll find no high-rise condos and most importantly, no bullshit.
But you have to bite the bullet and go the distance.
Once you cross the Seven Mile Bridge on the overseas highway, you enter the Bermuda Triangle of South Florida. A part of you disappears, only to reappear later, upon your return, with your hair ruffled out of some whirlpool gurgling forth at that first Florida turnpike toll booth. An instant lobotomy is performed at mile marker 47 when there's nothing but crystal clear Caribbean blue water on either side of your speeding vehicle. Suddenly, you're humming Jimmy Buffet and just like the first few seconds of twilight anesthesia, when the happy chemicals enter your veins, you forget about that thing, (what was it?), that gave you hives and an anxiety attack yesterday at the office.
I'm not kidding. These are the waters of Lethe. Weird wonderful things happen on the way to Key West. Hey, not long ago, a woman idiotshaved her punani while driving on the overseas highway. Well, that's another story. (Seriously, that was ridiculous. Don't shave and drive.)
I’ve been to Key West many times yet on this particular visit, even as a jaded Miamian, I enjoyed a whole new perspective. The southernmost continental U.S. city is a three-hour drive from Miami and it’s not called the Conch Republic for nothing -- surely a place like this should have its own governance. Life is different here, luring tired souls from points elsewhere to settle down on a island four miles wide and two miles long.
Strike up a conversation with a bartender or waiter who looks a little weathered and you’ll invariably hear something along the lines of “I came here to visit twenty years ago and never left.” And it really is easy to strike up conversation here -- some of the friendliest service in South Florida I've ever had, completely lacking in the signature South Beach snobbery. As one local put it: “We don’t care where you’re from, who you are, rich or poor, famous or not," the business owner said while sipping her rum drink. "We treat everyone like equals here. We treat people like we would like to be treated.”
Amen.
Last August, I spent two days in Key West doing absolutely nothing and yet as much of everything as I could. I walked a lot, taking in the sights and sounds of Duval Street and other roads less traveled on the island. Here are personally tried and true romantic things to enjoy.
GET LAID
The Hyatt Key West Resort and Spa is a quiet, secluded oasis that's a stone's throw from busy Duval Street, Mallory Square and the Historic Seaport. Stay in a gulf view room, where you’d be silly not to have “sex with a view” on that comfortable king size bed -- with complete privacy, of course. Just don't squeal like a pig because you might scare the tarpon schooling in the gulf just outside your terrace.
Don't be fooled by the title of resort; it's not some mega property. The place is cozy and because it's associated with a spa, it just smells really good. Beautiful pandanus trees, orchids and a fountain full of turtles greet guests by the pool and courtyard.
The entrance to the Hyatt. It really does smell good here. So relaxing.
Sex with a view. Or rather, your Gulf of Mexico view.
SUNSETS GALORE
Key West is famous for its sunsets and most people go to Mallory Square, a waterfront promenade where street performers and vendors abound. It's fun, to be sure, and just right for those "we're holding hands but don't want to talk to each other" moments. However, if you're in the mood for something more personal, here are three alternatives.
Talk to the concierge and arrange a hands and feet reflexology massage for couples at the Hyatt's small man-made beach. The massage package comes with champagne and the promise of relaxation as the sun goes down. If you're not in the mood for a rub, take a sunset cruise with Floridays, a laid-back, casual two-hour trip on a beautiful 60-foot monohull, drinks included. You can board the vessel right from the Hyatt's dock. And if you're not feeling sea worthy, have dinner at SHOR, the resort’s restaurant, for a gourmet meal and direct view of the golden orb making its exit on the horizon.
A cocktail anthem: Oh say can you see the sun setting from my martini? Drinks at SHOR.
The lobster appetizer special at SHOR.
The view from SHOR. Sunset cruises coming in to dock at port. I didn't retouch this photo, promise.
DIVINE DINING
Further afield, there are other dining options. No one can be affectionate on an empty stomach, so hungry lovers might find themselves at Café Solé, which was recommended to me by Captain Robert of Floridays (always ask the locals). Café Solé is an utterly charming and unpretentious restaurant about one mile from the Hyatt. French trained but Key West toughened, Chef Correa prepares sumptuous fare, inspired by Provence.
The affable chef told me he’s only one of two chefs on the island who personally catches the lobster on your plate (during legal season) and snags the snapper for his signature hogfish dish. “I get up very early in the morning, “ he said. “But it’s worth it.”
Correa’s hogfish -- a delicate filet served over a roasted bell pepper hollandaise -- certainly delighted my palate, as well as the lobster fennel orange salad, and the unbelievably tender conch carpaccio. By the way, raw conch is known as an aphrodisiac in Caribbean lore. Some market women in Antigua once told me it was nature’s Viagra. Feel free to test it out.
HOW SWEET IT IS
And speaking of food that makes you horny, no couple should skip Better Than Sex, where you might die la petite mort (a little death -- that’s what those fancy French literary people call an orgasm) and go to dessert heaven. Open the door of this dark, intimate restaurant and the heady scent of chocolate and baking will penetrate your nostrils in ways that should be illegal. To call this place decadent would be an understatement and yet it's classy and understated, as all sensual things should be.
Desserts and drinks all have hilariously sexy descriptions. Try the "Caramel All Over Me" -- fragrant, floral moscato wine with the glass dipped in caramel. Yes, you have to lick the glass and if you don’t relish the sensuality of that, you have no business doing this love thing! Pair that with the Grilled Cheese Sandwich -- a heavenly melted brie and chocolate mix -- and if you’re willing to work it off later in the bedroom, the Kinky Key Lime -- quite possibly the best version of this Florida Keys staple I’ve ever tasted (besides my own, of course).
SPLURGE
For shopping, stop at the Mel Fisher's Treasures where you’ll find reproductions from original artifacts displayed in the museum just down the street, also named after the famous treasure hunter.
Talk about romance: during my visit, I had a chance to inspect a limited edition $10,000 gold and emerald cross necklace; the original was once a gift from a New World colonizer who was engaged to the daughter of Spanish king. The vessel carrying the jewels shipwrecked and the marriage went bust. Oh well.
I want this for my birthday. Just kidding!
Of course, that’s a pricey gift, but nonetheless, a sight to behold. Less expensive are the lovely bracelets by Loukas Kongos, a Greek jeweler who moved to Key West shortly after Mel Fisher found the Atocha treasure. Kongos is a fourth generation jeweler and claims he is responsible for the original Key West love bracelet (you'll find imitations in other shops, but the story goes that Kongos simply didn't apply for the trademark in time to stop the copy cats). Each piece of jewelry in his stores are hand cast in his studio on Duval Street. The namesake bracelet is made in gold and sterling silver variations, relatively affordable at under $200.
Loukas Kongos working on his jewelry. He was very kind to let me into the studio.
Kongos also designs variations on the Key West love bracelet. I love me the fishes and the mermaids.
WASH IT ALL DOWN
You know I had to ask the locals about romantic places for enjoying cocktails. Louie's Backyard was a unanimous choice in my unscientific survey of four discriminating beverage experts. The waterfront spot is rustic but elegant. I found myself surrounded by loyal locals late in the afternoon before sunset.
Louie's is a long-standing gourmet restaurant as well. I didn't have a chance to try the food here.
Drinks with a view at Louie's.
The only thing missing here was the chance to clink glasses with my friend Ines the mojito queen from Miamism.
On the south end of Duval Street, you'll also come across The Rum Bar at the Speakeasy Inn. Hopefully you'll quench your thirst some afternoon when Bahama Bob is around -- he makes the best and meanest Dark and Stormy I've ever tasted in South Florida. That's Bermudan Gosling's dark rum mixed with Gosling's ginger beer, served over ice. Real ginger beer, my friends, yes, that spunky stuff with bite, not that spineless piss water Americans know as ginger ale. If rum is your thing, and drinking it at an original rum runner's den rocks your world, then don't miss this authentic watering hole, where you're also bound to meet some locals.
There are more varieties of rums here than there are hookers in South Beach. You do the math.
Bahama Bob, Californian transplant and rum bartender extraordinaire. Tell him Sex and the Beach sent you.
GET IN TOUCH WITH NATURE
The Key West Butterfly and Nature Conservatory won't take but an hour or so of your time but is well worth a visit. Stroll through the atrium, where small finches and butterflies may alight on your shoulder if you're lucky. It's simply beautiful.
A little tropical paradise on Duval Street.
Beauties like these flit about in the conservatory.
Another alternative to get in touch with all things au naturel is the clothing optional bar, Garden of Eden, where you probably don't want anything of a microbial character to alight on any part of your body. I went there during the day and saw no flesh. Blah. I moved on and didn't bother going back. Maybe you'll have better luck. Personally, I'd rather be staring at my lover's body in that great Hyatt room I mentioned above.
Uh-oh. The sign at the entrance of Garden of Eden. All I know is that I'm not bringing my friend and colleague Carlos Miller to this joint, unless handcuffs are a fashion accessory.
DRAG ME IN
And speaking of bodies, maybe drag doesn't seem like heterosexual romantic, but hey, it's a barrel of fun in this crazy town. Stroll by 801 Bourbon and you'll see what I mean. I found myself lulled by the siren call of the queens and at $10 cover, who could resist? The show is hysterical and of course, fabulously campy from beginning to end. I saw plenty of breeders enjoying it, so don't be shy. It's a great way to round out an experience of Key West. Hopefully you'll catch Ms. Gassy Winds as MC. She/he had me in stitches and was a better woman on stage than I'll ever be.
She ... he ... is something else. This isn't Gassy Winds but one of the other performers.
Just about everything I've described above was done in a span of two days in a stress-free, relaxed schedule. But there's much more to see and do on the island. Activities abound. Visit the official Key West destination site for myriad tips and suggestions. And of course, there's always Visit Florida.
You can also take advantage of comfortable bus rides to Key West daily with Miami Tour Company, but no matter how you get there (flying on a puddle jumper into a regional airport is another option), I recommend at least one overnight stay.
Get back to me if you experience that "aha" moment on the Seven Mile Bridge ...
Part 2 of a three-part series about romantic travel in the Florida Keys.
Many roads lead to paradise but this one ends at mile marker 61 on the overseas highway.
I stayed at upscale Hawks Cay Resort in August and wondered what the heck I was doing there when the main pool was full of kids and a table full of folded disposable diapers was set up next to the pool towels. How could this possibly be romantic? Screaming rug rats at the pool? No way!
But after I became familiar with the property, I had an "aha" moment: Hawks Cay is actually very romantic for parents, because the resort offers what I can only describe as a mega babysitting menu. You can keep them busy while you get busy together.
And, if you haven't had babies, you may be inspired to make one here.
One such spot for romantic inspiration may be the adults only pool and jacuzzi. Surrounded by palm trees, lush vegetation and crisp, blue Florida Keys skies, I let my imagination wander as I relaxed in the pool. My lanai room was just behind me with a luxurious bed waiting inside.
Rambunctious and loud adults should stay out of here, too.
Next best thing to an infinity pool.
Each lanai room has its own wooden deck that leads to the pool. Sorry, but no kids allowed on the ground floor.
Plush pillows, waiting to be tossed off in a moment of heated passion.
But Hawks Cay isn't just about catching up on sex. There's plenty of recreational, water sport and spa activities for adults, too, which is another reason to take advantage of their kid programs. For parents who want a break and more "me" time -- either for intimacy or fun -- the resort offers a Kids Night Out and Teen Night on selected nights. There's also a daytime Toddler Program and a daily Camp Hawk for children ages 5-12.
Offspring even have their own facilities: The Indies Club features a splash park in the form of a pirate ship with ropes and slides. The Cove caters to tweens and teens. All childcare activities are supervised, of course, so leave the nanny at home. (I actually met a 20-something nanny; she was having drinks at the bar while her charge was enjoying popcorn and movies elsewhere.) Hawks Cay was exceptionally busy with families in August as the school year had not yet started, but kid's activities are available year-round.
Hawks Cay doesn't have a proper beach, but the saltwater tidal lagoon is a great spot for adults to relax, especially with lounge chair drink service. Note a namesake hawk perched on top of the tiki.
Another thing that'll take me back to Hawks Cay, even just to stop for dinner: Alma, a restaurant inside the main resort, had me at first bite with a unique Caribbean influenced menu. Try the classic Caribbean style seafood stew with lobster, shrimp, local fish, ground provision root vegetables, coconut and lemongrass over steamed jasmine rice. Or go all Jamaican with curried lamb stew served with West Indian aromatic rice, plantain tostones, cilantro and scotch bonnet oil. Mix it up with a little Italian: risotto is made with creamy calabaza and Florida lobster. If weather permits, dine outside by candlelight on the veranda.
Hawks Cay Resort and Marina is located right off the overseas highway on 60-acre Duck Key, a quiet, residential area surrounded by crystal clear turquoise water. Accommodations range from lanai rooms to villas located elsewhere on the island. The resort is about one and a half hours away from Miami. Spend at least two nights here; by the second morning you'll have forgotten about your Miami rush hour commute.
For more information visit Hawks Cay. Make sure to check their special offers page for seasonal romance packages.
