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Published: July 10th 2006
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Aaaaahhhhhh. Back to the comforts of familiar territory: fast cars, loose women and triple cheeseburgers. The US of A. Land of the free. Home of the Whopper. Marvellous.
I flew into Miami sporting a tremendous hangover, having been unable to leave a bar in Belize City due to being the only person in the audience for the 5 piece band that was playing. As my body tried to cope with the chemicals ingested the night before, I became increasingly irritable, and for the first time in a long time found myself snapping at strangers. Not entirely to blame here - Miami really is a shockingly shit airport. In my haste to clear the building, I allowed myself to be traded up to a Mustang from a Ford Focus (or similar) at Hertz, and was somewhat surprised when I was dropped off at the monster vehicle by the complimentary bus. I instantly renamed the car 'The Love Muscle' (something I would accidentally mention later in the trip to a bemused motel owner), and floored the beast as I sped into the city.
A couple of nights in Miami Beach kicked off this leg, and very pleasant it was too. The
Sunset in Key Largo
I attempted to manually unblock my toilet after I took this shot. real action, though, happened at South Beach, and I headed in that direction whenever possible. It was overwhelming. I had asked a friend what to do in Miami. His response had been 'Hold down triangle, square, L, R2 for extra health', and indeed the similarity to GTA Vice City was startling. Enormous hummers gliding past, tattoed gang members supping on cocktails, airbrushed women with tiny dogs, and me running around hitting hookers with a baseball bat. I blundered down Ocean Drive muttering 'Gomorrah' under my breath as I tried to take in the decadence of the place. The US really does conspicuous consumption better than anyone else (or your money back).
I took a tour of Miami in an amphibious vehicle to see more of the city from the water. I floated past the homes of basketball players and Latino music sensations, my fun only hampered by the compulsory audience participation, led by the guide:
Guide: Now I want you all to quack like ducks!
All (bar me): Yeah! USA! USA! USA! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!!!!!
Me (quietly): Please don't make me do this.
A handful of enormous meals in the company of chair-bound fatties set me up
for the trip into the Florida Keys. A chance for Love Muscle to show me what she was capable of.
First port of call was Key Largo, where I spent three days diving, eating more fast food and enjoying a July 4th parade. The parade was surprisingly sweet - a genuine display of community spirit from the good people of the Keys. All the stereotypes were present: fat cops, bikers and their pneumatic molls, soccer moms, white trash with mullets, political candidates with toothy grins, gun toting lunatics, survivalists nervously hoarding canned food, and the hispanic underclass cleaning up after us all. I celebrated in my own way by having a pizza binge and a handful of beers while gazing at the sunset. They made a mistake with my order and gave me a large pizza. It was the size of one of those wheels that knifethrowers attach their victims to at circuses. The result of my binge was a blocked toilet, an extremely messy attempt to solve the problem without the requisite plumbing apparatus, and a quick exit down Highway 1 to the south.
I bombed down to Key West and visited the tourists marking the southerly-most
Fat cop on a motorcycle
Soon to replace the Bald Eagle as the symbol of America. point of mainland USA. The town would have been fun to visit with a bunch of friends for drunken antics, but for the lone traveller it didn't offer much so I headed north again to Islamadora, much to Love Muscle's delight. There I stayed in a grubby resort hotel and did some more diving. The Keys styles itself as the world capital of diving. It isn't. Nevertheless, the diving was fun, and I was treated to my largest ray so far, and the sight of dolphins playing around our dive boat.
A word on American TV advertising: I have never seen so many useless products being advertised in such a sincere way. Remedies for medical conditions unknown in the rest of the world are pushed day and night on all of the hundred or so channels available in most hotel rooms. My favourite was a course of tablets for those suffering from RLS (Restless Leg Syndrome - jittering limbs resulting from too much sofa time). I though it was a joke at first. My other favourite was the Luma-Tweez, an illuminated device for plucking one's eyebrows. Fantastic.
Vegas next, and meeting up with old friends.
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