Going to explore a town known for its beach and abs isn’t on my list of adventures, but I can’t say no when my uncle proposes I join in on a road trip to Miami, a city bleached by the sun and warmed by the Florida Current off the Gulf Stream. Cold alerts glaze the news stations in Ontario, so I shrug and easily submit. I recall Will Smith’s ‘Miami’ and the accompanying music video – my entire knowledge of the city comes from this song, played on loop on MuchMusic in the late 90s.
Smith’s music video does not lie – South Beach is busy and fun, full of hot people in their bikinis and swim trunks showing off their tanned and toned bodies, ready to play and fool around.
There is a feeling of being relaxed and lounging on the beach, but this clashes (or compliments) one of busyness that comes from the busy road that divides the strip of cafes and restaurants from the palm tree lined beach and the promenade used by joggers, cyclists, walkers, skateboarders and gazers. I’d equate South Beach to Ontario’s Wasaga Beach…maybe not equate; I’d multiply summertime Wasaga Beach by a factor of 10 to get South Beach. Of course, the salty water of the Atlantic and the breaking waves have nothing on Georgian Bay.
It’s not my jam, but it’s nice to be, for a little while, a voyeur peeking into the lives of people who like crowds, don’t mind strutting around in their bikinis and like showing off their shiny, expensive cars from which they boom some serious beats, their right arms hanging out of the car to reveal gold watches and tattoos; often, a hand will be holding a lit skinny cigar.
I am embarrassed when I have to strip down to my swimsuit; I do not have an expensive car and my speakers are hanging out of their sockets and produce static when played at a high volume; I prefer quiet places with very few people, but once in awhile, it’s good to be exposed to the other side and, I suppose, challenge myself to wear a two piece in public, if only for a short while.
I much prefer North Beach. It’s quieter, and on the strip it’s easy to find $1 Cuban coffee. Sweet and delicious. It’s also easier to walk along the beach or the promenade – you don’t have to be quite as alert, dodging the sunbathers and joggers.
The second best part of Miami is Little Havana. For $0.75 you can get a Cuban coffee and stroll in an out of the shops, listen to Cuban music, and best of all, watch the older men gather round a chess table, bicker and gossip as they play, smoking their cigars. If you slow down as you walk by one of the men will smile and wave.
Miami downtown is not memorable, and probably why the focus is on the beach, and rarely on the city itself. It’s grey, full of tall buildings and much of the city is under construction where more tall buildings are growing. The city’s attraction is the free Metrorail from which you can see the city from above ground. The inner-loop takes about 10 minutes and it’s nice to sit for a while and gaze as the city passes below and around you.
The rest of Miami is poor. The quality of life seems terrible; the disparity between Millionaires Row and the rest of Miami is visible and uncomfortable. Derelict buildings are left abandoned; discarded furniture lies in clumps on street corners and garbage clings to fences; people sit, faces tired and worn, waiting for the bus. There is graffiti, beautiful, uplifting and celebrating diversity, everywhere, but these bursts of colour in the city are not reflective of the life I see.
