Travel Blog

Yesterday afternoon I picked Mark and Vicki up at their new hotel.

"In the lobby they have three books," Mark said, "Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Ralph Richardson - An Actor's Life, and The Happy Hooker by Xaviera Hollander."

We drove up A1A, passing through Lauderdale-by-the-Sea, Pompano Beach, Hillsboro Beach. They marveled at the wealth, though Mark expressed disappointment that all of the mansions, at least the ones we could see, were fairly new. None of the gracious architecture of the Old South.

In Delray Beach we took a left and drove down Atlantic Ave. - passing the mustard and maroon Colony Hotel, the blue awning of The Trouser Shop - and then parked at the tennis center.

A tall blonde with an accent was selling coffee. "I used to go out with a woman from Sweden," Mark told her. Inside the stadium, Tommy Haas was playing doubles with a man who, as Vicki noted, was overhitting. They lost. On the way out Mark shook the hand of the ticket taker and said: "Thanks very much. We had a great time." I told him we don't do that in South Florida.

Up 95 to Lake Worth and the Bizarre Ave. Cafe where Adriana Samargia was performing. For years I'd been looking for a jazz club and this seemed to be it: an intimate room on the second floor with candlelit tables and a bar in the back. Adriana shared the microphone with a fine saxophonist, singing jazz, blues, bossa nova. Mark bought her CD and then, on the way out to the car, said wearily: "There's too much to see in America. I need to move to Luxembourg."