Fi does Florida

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I hadn't read up on anything for my start into America, so as I peered out of the window from Miami's airport shuttle I couldn't hide my pleasure at seeing the abundance of art deco buildings in South Beach. What little knowledge I knew of Miami started to flood in; Miami Vice, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine and CSI. Television and music really didn't sculpt my youth, but at least I have a bit of it to fall back on. I proceeded with checking in at the hostel, and began arguing with the receptionist when she charged me for multiple nights. I then had to face facts when I understood that $26 is the charge for one night. I have now well and truly hit the roof of the budgeting backpacking world as I think $5 per night in North America is out of the question.


The hostel I stayed in was called the Clay, an interesting maze of pink art deco. It had actually been a monastery back in the day, and was a perfect current location for setting off to explore the streets. So I bravely stepped foot into the American dream. Recalling my own hesitation in entering the commercialized society dominated by the stars and stripes, I was very quickly tranfixed by the size of the cars cruising by, the gold teeth I caught glimpses of from those walking by on their cell phones, and good old McDonalds and Starbucks on every corner. The American life might just be the biggest culture shock I've experienced on this trip sofar. After cruising along the South Beach's boardwalk, I settled down in a cafe to study the travel guide. I was lucky enough to get a few added tips from my English waiter Murray, before making my way back to my bunk at The Clay.


I started my morning with a powershake from the local juicery. The natural sugar high sent me straight into the Segway tours office along South Beach. Months ago when I started planning this trip I saw a t.v. presenter scooting around on one of these 2 wheeled balancing wonders, and thought it might be worth a go. As I was the only participant, the lesson with my instructor Amanda (I think that was her name-sorry if it's not!!) became a hysterical giggle festival even before we hit the streets! We were then cruising down the sidewalks taking in all the attention that 2 girls on 2 wheels can possibly attract. I learned more about the most significant art deco buildings and even whizzed by the late Gianni Versace's house. It's certainly an easy way of getting around town and starting conversations with strangers. When we saw 4 police officers heading straight for us on their own 2 wheelers, it was only smiles and checking each other out that was on the agenda (for now anyway!!)


After the tour I enriched my Miami experience with a Cuban coffee. Although Miami is part of the United States, it seems to be more influenced by the delicacies of Cuban life. The spanish language is more common than English whilst fritos and tacos stand out on the menus more often than the traditional spaghetti bolognaise.


My next adventure began rather early in the morning as I boarded a bus to Homestead, the base for exploring the Everglades. I joined a tour from the hostel for the same day and even before the pillow wrinkles fell off of my cheek, I began traipsing through the sawgrass prairies and cypress domes. Our guide Rustin was very knowledgable on the birds, the plants and anything we crossed. I was a little bit dubious what I had actually signed up for when we began walking through 2-3 feet of water. As a few snakes had been spotted skimming the waters in days previous, I was certainly on full alert.


We then drove to another section of the national park, allowing us to sit into our canoes and kayaks to spot the different forms of wildlife. We had heard of the pumas, the snakes, the vultures and alligators, it was now time to see something for real. Gators eyes often poked through the reeds and luckily for us, remained there. The paddle through the spindly mangrove trees reaching out in the shallow waters was exactly the breath of fresh air I sought after a couple of days in Miami.


Our final stop of the day was the most gratifying in spotting animals. The reserve housed thousands of birds that I can hardly do justice in remembering their names, whilst gators scoured the water edges looking for fallen children. Our professional photographer Rustin captured some amazing shots before we finally called it a day and headed back to the hostel.


I awoke the next morning with a burning sense of adventure. I never would have guessed how this adventure would unfold by the end of the day, but at least it remains an interesting story for the travels. I arrived at the Alligator Farm around midday and joined the other tourists to watch the all too smiley and all too friendly alligator wrestler risk his lifeline for the crowds. It was pure cheese and a good level of entertainment for the day, but still not fulfilling my original interest in the park. I wanted to sit at the helm of an airboat and pretend I was a CSI agent on a case. As the captain of the farm boat sounded a bit like George Bush on speed, I wasn't quite able to fulfill this dream. But the boat ride was pretty fun.


Having all ready overdosed with all of Walt Disneys' Everglade descendants, I opted for a walk back to my hostel. Although I wasn't too sure of the way, and knowing it had taken 20 minutes to drive there, I figured my intuitive sense would kick in when needed. I walked under buzzing electrical lines with hawks eying up the cornfields surrounding me. I heard a few large splashes in the canal beside me, filling my fear glands with images of alligators following me through the reeds. Then a honkey tonk local asked if I wanted a lift in his big truck, "I gawt big wheeyls ana hole lawt more to impress a lil lady like yerself..." Mmmmm, perhaps not. I began mimicking the olympic speedwalkers and was stopped in my own tracks when I saw the next attraction on my personal tour. On one side of the street stood boldly manicured houses sitting behind picket white fences, whilst on the other side of the street stood a federal penitentiary surrounded by rows upon rows of barbed wire. Apparently the state earns good money for housing out of state prisoners here. It seemed slightly out of place to me, but I guess inmates peering out at a 'Pleasantville' type of life, is supposed to educate them to another way of life. God help them.


I made it to what is said to be one of America's biggest Walmarts' ever. Not necessarily the top of my list of claims to fames whilst travelling, but I was star struck by the product range nonetheless. What have I been missing...can I buy it now? I roamed the aisles and surfaced at the cash register an hour later with a jar of dill pickles, a pack of purple koolaid, some kraft dinner and some fresh veg for dinner. Some of us never change. I walked outside and was stunned by a jibbering woman about how she knew me from Vancouver. "Are you sure? I've not lived there for a few years..." Apparently she was sure, although I still couldn't quite place her so we parted ways. I didn't really want to place her too much, as her life in town didn't quite sound up my alley.


I began what should have been a 10 minute walk back to the hostel, now in the dark after meeting the quacko in the parking lot. When an hour had ticked by I stared at my map to see numbers and letters chasing eachother around the block with sledgehammers. I had reached the point of needing a full translation to the streets of Homestead, and the local police station was the nearest and dearest. Apparently it was all very simple, about 25 blocks in the direction I had just come from. When I explained my flip flopped feet might not appreciate the same tour backwards, the expression on the officers' face was priceless.
"You walked through there? Did you see anything unusual or were you approached by anybody?"
"Well, um, yeah...I guess the low riding cadillac really was trying to get my attention..."
As there were 2 scheduled crack house busts on my route home that night, I agreed to a taxi. Unfortunately the (only) taxi driver was too busy for a pickup so I ended up catching a lift home with officer Jenkins. So yes, I've seen the back of a cop car, but it was entirely innocent I swear!!


I had next planned on jumping on a bus to the most southerly part of the US, Key West. However, I learned through others that it was expensive and more of a party town than I had bargained for. So at 3am, I changed my plans and joined a crew of nine others for a paddling adventure to a nearby campsite on a small key island.


After stocking up on supplies, we rigged up the canoes and kayaks and began our adventure to the waters' edge. I was surprised to see 5 dogs sitting on top of the beer boxes as we set off in the water, but they didn't seem to bat an eyelash at their situation so neither did I. We started on a very calm route through the mangrove trees, and then the winds and the Atlantic Ocean came into view and we paddled more steadily towards our final destination. The campsite became clear after just an hour and a half, and my grin formed immediately. What a wise change of plans I had made. I set up my tent, joined the others with beer in hand, and simply passed the time sitting doing nothing. Made a fire, drank some beer, went to sleep. Woke up, sat for a few hours, napped, and then began the paddle back to the mainland. Definitely a wise choice. The refreshing outdoors with good company is like no other.


I returned to Miami in order to catch my next flight, and spent my last day completing the dreaded domestic errands. Laundry, post office, emails and re-packing. I was picked up from my drudgery for one last time in Florida when I met up with Murray for a few drinks in town. It happened to be one of the coldest nights in the records yet we still managed a few life comparison laughs when thinking back to the UK. Life can be tough, so we like to lead it otherwise!


So there you have it, my first week in America under the skies of Florida. It wasn't everything I dreaded, it wasn't everything I dreamed of. I smiled a lot, I have a couple of stories to tell, and would love to return and explore more...one day. And I have an excuse to come back as I didn't find the rollerblading beach boy or the CSI agent to study.


Although, it's now time to rope me a cowboy in Texas!!


Love to y'all!! -Fiona

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Photos

The Segway Master
It looks as though heaving my pack around has bulked up my muscles a bit!!!

Alligator Teeth
Thanks to Rustin and his super zoom!

Brian and I
Paddling over to the campsite in perfect conditions

The Segway Master
My muscles are definitely more defined.

Comments

[Jennifer (Carolyn's daughter @ the Lake) from NYC]

Are you still in Florida?
Any chance you are still in Florida? If so, I would love to hook you up with my cousins on the West Coast. I LOVE your journal! Hope to see you soon. [e-mail]

[Coffeecat]

Comment from me re:photos
Rustin Gooden has some amazing wildlife photos of life in the Evergaldes and by contacting the hostel in the Everglades I'm sure he could sort out that empty space on your wall!