And so, in some measure, it was another failed day. As we wandered back toward our dinghy under the highway, we realized we had missed the sunset party again. There we were in Key West, and we hadn't seen the boardwalk and had barely contacted the island's famously freaky pluralism. Part of me regretted this, but after so much time traveling, Lani and I no longer approached a new place with as many expectations. We had learned that agendas don't always work, and that "must-see" lists are not necessarily worth following. Better to let the destination speak to us, tell us what's important, whether it's a bench under a shade tree on a fragrant side street, the backside of the cat man, or the brief kindness of a dockhand. We had come to know that all we can control is our arrival. After that, the island takes over.