Entered our ice box of a hotel room, the air-conditioner blowing full blast. Turned it to low and walked into the bathroom, where a sign on the sink asked us to reuse our towels. "Help us conserve," it read. "We are committed to doing our share to preserve the environment and conserve energy."
Dropped our bags and headed back to the car. Drove across the river to look at the fanciful brick archways beneath the silver Scheherazade minarets of the old Tampa Bay Hotel (now the main building of the University of Tampa). Then back through downtown, a quick stop at Channelside where, at a second-story bar overlooking the port, I poured half a Yuengling into my lemonade for a refreshing panache.
A short drive to Ybor City. We parked in front of La France - Florida's greatest vintage clothing store - and walked into the high-ceilinged previous century. Panamas hung on the walls and a few Rooster ties hid in bunches on racks, but none in rare, elusive blue.
Dinner on a side street - Streetcar Charlie's Bar and Grille - where we watched the bright yellow trams (and got nostalgic for Warsaw). We had entered, it soon became clear from the same-sex couples at the surrounding tables, GaYbor City. The food was delicious: gumbo, salmon, catfish, smashed potatoes, even the broccoli.
Friday took the elevator to the 38th floor of the Verizon building for the Four Seasons Author Series lunch. The windows looked west, with beautiful views of the port and Davis Island. "Derek Jeter's building a house there," a gentleman told us. "30,000 square feet."
After the flounder, I got up and talked about travel and how I became a travel writer. People laughed at all the right places, and then when I was finished, quite a few bought my book. Nothing endears a city to an author like the willingness of its residents to buy his book.
