Finish Lime (USA Day 177)

We bid goodbye to Ben and got back on the road as soon as the sun had risen. In thirty miles we’d be at Key West, but the real challenge would be to enjoy the feeling of success, get the obligatory picture by that huge buoy, munch a key lime pie and get on a bus back up the Keys to our agreed sleep spot at Felix and Sarah’s.

So we did all that.

The sun was fully out, making the sea glitter and Amy’s shoulders sting. Covered up as much as possible, she rode bravely despite how uncomfortable it made her. By this point in the Keys, the islands come thick and fast, so we never got bored, alternating between windy bridge-crossings and mangrove-swamp schleps until we made it into Key West.

The southernmost road of the continental United States wrapped around the bottom of the island, giving supreme views of the Caribbean sea beyond. Only ninety miles south was Cuba, and the island influence had diffused its way across the ocean quite palpably. Gone were the mangroves, stilted houses and broad highways. Here, in its place, were banyan trees, little colonial cabins and narrow, curved boulevards. Proud cockerels wandered the front gardens. Houses lacked uniformity, stacked illogically around in all colours and shapes. Everywhere we looked, great orange or green lizards stalked the trees and walls, tails draping down like the banyan roots.

We queued for a chance of a picture in front of the Southernmost Point: a pretend buoy in the corner of the island made, most probably, of concrete. Once it was our turn we rushed forward, ripped all the bags off our bikes and lifted them in the air (with considerable difficulty – cyclists aren’t known for their shoulder strength) for a photo taken by some random woman who really didn’t want to be there. The result was of two fairly frantic and overburdened brits struggling with elevated vehicles. It says to me more ‘panic’ than ‘celebrate’, but at least we finished in a similar tone to the rest of the tour.

After that, we wandered through town to pick up some pie and check out the cruise ships. This is very much a tourist town, though more arrive by boat than bike. A gargantuan white liner dominated the dock, its passengers making use of the many and varied money sinks made available in the surrounding streets.

It’s a beautiful island. We would’ve stayed longer, had our bus not left. Isn’t that always the way with buses?

We were joined on the bus by hundreds, if not thousands of Bahamian and Cuban workers who’d finished their day of work in various upmarket tourist joints and were making their merry way back to the mainland to more affordable digs. The fare was cheap, the seats limited, and our bags took up the space which about eight people would’ve occupied had we not been there. The whole thing became quite intimate.

When it was time to disembark, I had to part the red sea of passengers and barge to the front with our bags akimbo, then collapse on the grass to work out which way was up. My exit was followed by each of our panniers, one by one, and finally Amy, all of the above handed down the line by the enthusiastic homeward host. Nobody tutted. No-one gave us the side-eye. Just the systematic expulsion of all elements that would stop the bus from getting there on time.

The tour had ended in Key West, so riding from the bus stop to Felix and Sarah’s was a sort of post-tour workout, and we treated it differently, clocking off a faster seven miles than we managed in the last eight thousand. But we made it, we showered, and it hit us: we’ve done it. We’ve actually finished. We’ve cycled around the United States of America.

I’ll provide you with stats in good time. We’ll work out what this all means together, once we get home. For now, bear with me as I catch up on these blogs and wind down from all this riding, get our things together and make our way back to Miami.

Travelling at somewhere between eleven and twelve miles per hour for the last six months has been a greater pleasure than I ever could have predicted. It’s going to be very weird to slow down, or speed up, or whatever happens next.