My wife and I have stayed at Casa Morada in Islamorada more than 25 times since we were married there in 2004. For us, it has never been just another resort in the Florida Keys. It has been part of our family story. In 2021, when my youngest daughter was married in Islamorada, we booked the entire Casa Morada property for our wedding guests over the Fourth of July weekend. It felt like coming full circle — returning to a place that had meant so much to us and sharing it with the next generation. Casa Morada was always special. Started in the early 2000s by three women who had once worked for Ian Schrager, the resort had a minimalist mystique that made it stand apart. It was intimate, elegant, and quietly beautiful. White flowing curtains, orchids in each room, champagne at check-in, a complimentary bottle of wine waiting in the room, and small snacks made the experience feel gracious and personal. The 16-room property had a charm that larger resorts could never duplicate. The landscaping, designed by Raymond Jungles, was part of the magic — native foliage, manicured pathways, fountain features, and a gradual unfolding of the property toward the water. A small bridge led to the island, where there was a pool and a sunset bar serving snacks, food, beer, wine, and sake beverages. It felt private, romantic, and unmistakably Islamorada. But 25 stays later, the place has changed. I understand that resorts evolve and that renovations are sometimes necessary. But what saddened me most during our recent stay was not simply that things were changing. It was that the attention to detail — any detail — seemed to have disappeared. The orchids are gone. The welcoming champagne is gone. Check-in now takes place across U.S. 1 at a motel owned by the same company, rather than in the old on-site office with its wooden desk, friendly stray cats — “it’s a Keys thing” — and the warm feeling of being welcomed back. The rooms still carry their charming names — Hideaway, Sea Turtle, Wild Flower, and others — but the charm behind those names seems to have faded. Our room furnishings were old, chipped, and tired. I asked for two room keys and was told I could only have one. I asked for ice to set up a small bar in the room and had to go to a convenience store to buy it. The exterior spaces were equally disappointing. The once-pristine pathways were ungroomed. A water feature sat dry with exposed pipes. Potted plants were dying or full of weeds. On the island, there were only four lounge chairs and no umbrellas for a 16-room resort. There were no pool towels available, and we were given two old, threadbare towels to use during our stay. The sunset bar, once a highlight, was closed and unmanned the entire time. All of this was at $550 per night, plus taxes. I write this with sadness, not anger. Casa Morada meant something to us. I hope the current owners understand what they have inherited and find a way to restore the beauty, hospitality, and attention to detail that once
