Delray Beach - The Balance - May 2026
I had meant to leave earlier, but the morning slipped. There had been a heat warning that morning. The kind that tells you frail people should stay home. By the time I reached the station mid morning, the heat was already bearing down heavily. I stood on the platform with my bike and watched the tracks. Two women rolled up beside me with theirs. Annie and Laurie from South Florida Bike Scene. Annies bike basket was trimmed with bright plastic flowers.
I said, “I thought I was crazy coming out here to ride today.” They smiled, “You get used to it.” They were heading to Deerfield, meeting up with a dozen other riders from the scene. Annie was was wearing long sleeves. “In case it gets breezy by the ocean,” she said. It was 93 F.
Severly Hot
I looked at them. Their bikes. The way they stood there like it was just another ride. I thought about going with them. I had been meaning to get more active in the Bike Scene, and it would have been easy to turn the day that way. I didn’t.
The train came. I got on and headed to Delray.
The First Mile
The ride from the station was simple but brutally hot. Congress to Atlantic. Wide roads. No shade. Nothing to stop for. Cars moved fast. The sun burned directly overhead. I cut over a few streets, seeking shade.
The noise dropped off. Trees. Houses. Quiet. The air felt different as I neared the ocean.
The Landing
Deck 84
I came out near the water. Deck 84. I sat at the bar. Ordered something cold. A salad. Then another icy drink. The air moved through the space. Boats passed behind the tables. People at the bar talked. New York. Orange County. Boat clubs. A man named Joe had come up from Boca in his boat. Two musicians played songs from the 80s. It all felt familiar. I stayed longer than I meant to.
I didn’t want to leave the cool shady breezes of the watherfront bar to hit the streets on my bike, but I paid my bill and left.
The Beach
Delray Beach
I rode toward the water. The beach was wide. Almost empty. Seeking more shade I tried to rent an umbrella from the stand. The wind was strong enough that they weren’t renting umbrellas, only chairs. There wasn’t much reason to stay.
Atlantic Avenue
Atlantic Ave
Shopping district
I rode back toward Atlantic. Shops were open to the street. Doors wide. Music drifting out. Some places were polished. Others held onto an older and more bohemian vibe. It wasn’t all one thing or the other.
The heat set the pace. I rode a block. Stopped. Found shade. Ordered something cold. Then moved again, block by block. There wasn’t another way to do it.
Veterans Parkwas a shady reprieve
The Derby
I stepped inside a place called The Derby. Women in dresses and big hats. Watching the race. I sat at the bar. Ordered a mocktail with muddled blueberries. Two women next to me started talking. Their families were from Guyana. They had grown up in New York. Now they lived in Boca.
We talked for a while then I went back out.
The Balance
Delray doesn’t feel as controlled as Boca. It’s polished, but not closed off. Most of it leans high-end, but not completely. There are still places that feel like what it used to be—looser, a little rougher, more bohemian. It hasn’t polished everything away yet.
Hollywood leans the other direction. More raw than refined. Boca is almost entirely finished. Delray sits in balance. Not equal parts—but close enough that you can feel both.
The Last Leg
NixonMemorial Trail
By the time I got off the Train back in Hollywood the sun was low in the sky. The air had changed. I took a different way home from the train via the Nixon Trail, that runs along a lake and through a park. There was shade there. It kept me clear of the I-95 off-ramp traffic.
That Night
Marco, the Bartender at Carmellas
I got home grimy and sweaty. Showered. Changed. Then walked downtown. I found a place I had been meaning to try. Carmela’s, which is owned by the Son of the guy who owns Sardelli’s, one of our favorites. I had dinner at the bar.
Capelletti
A couple next to me started talking. Debbie and Ed from Emerald Hills. They have three sons. All grown. We talked for a while.
I told them I was comparing Hollywood to Delray, and they said Hollywood has been trying to get there for years.
Hollywood is loose - it can be rough and a bit grimy. Boca is finished, but a little closed off. Delray holds something in balance. I could see myself there.
The Stats
