Miami - Friday 4th July

Yeah it's the 4th of July! So? This actually means nothing to me, to you, or anyone I know. But here it means lots of barbeque and beer. There's also stars and stripes everywhere: on bikinis, on shorts, on bandannas, you name it.

Today is a lazy one for me because I ache all over. I am going to the Internet cafe and then the beach, where I will stay for as long as possible.

Eric in the cafe tries in vain to convince me to keep my tattoos. I explain but he's having none of it. We finally agree that I can remove them from my arms IF I get new ones somewhere else. This actually appeals to me immensely as I love tattoos. It takes all my willpower not to run over to Lucky Tattoo across the road. But when I get home, hmmm...

The beach is lovely and whilst down there I see a plane dragging this huge banner of a car advert along. The banner must be at least twice the size of the plane and I think, blimey that looks a bit dangerous in this wind.

When I get home much later and turn the TV News on I find out that plane had crash-landed (no injuries) on another beach just up the coast. I am Nostradamus!

In the evening I decide to risk one fast-food experience of the holiday and go to Rustic Pizza. Apparently the best pizza in the place and one slice = a meal (according to the TO gospel).

It's packed. It is off the scale of what is bearable to an English person in terms of service and queuing. A French woman and me manage somehow to order and look at each other in horror as pizza orders are shouted around the joint (which is the size of a matchstick) box. I have to repeat myself 3 times to the lady running the place:

"1 slice of sausage spice please"
"What?!"
"1 slice of sausage spice please"
"1 slice?! What?!!
"Yes, just 1 slice of sausage spice please"
"Ok, 1 slice" (Looks incredulous)

After that madness I cycle on down to 8th Street for the fireworks. Everyone is in a jovial mood and as I cycle in my little top eating an ice-cream I get hit on twice. Bless.

But I zip away and find a spot on Ocean Drive for the fireworks. Half an hour before they are due to start the sky goes black, the wind comes from nowhere and the heavens open. Oh my God that is rain. I have never experienced rain like it, not even in Ireland. I huddle under a tree (see Lessons Learnt entry) trying to stuff anything electrical down my shorts to keep them dry.

Here's a very bad quality video of the 4th of July celebrations everyone enjoyed.


NB: Again, I am holding the video the wrong way round - sorry!

After 20 minutes I risk the ride home. I chew gum and ride along with a smile on my face, trying and failing to look like I'm enjoying the experience. Why else would you be on a bike in this weather? I arrive back to my hotel to a round of applause from everyone sheltering in the lobby. I'm already a humorous little person with a bike to most guests, now I'm a funny little drowned person with a bike.

Whilst drying off I have a debate with some Dutch people about the lack of culture in Miami. I say there is some, they say there isn't. Suffice to say we agree to disagree. I then create a wet trail all the way to my room. See my entry 'Culture or No Culture?' for more on this issue.