Miami - Thursday 3rd July

Today was extreme-cycle day. Up at 7, breakfasted and ready to roll at 8.30am...

TARGET DESTINATION: Bal and Bay Harbours
DISTANCE: 80 blocks
TEMPERATURE: 80 at 10am rising to 86 at 12pm
MADNESS LEVEL: 6
ROAD TYPE: 3 lanes
AVG. CAR SPEED: Snails pace
SUPPLIES: 3 x cans of Heineken

This shot is of Collins Avenue, a very long road that goes all the way to where I'm going and then some. And I'm off! Basically the route goes something like this: Hotel, Hotel, Hotel, Condominium. Hotel, Hotel, Hotel, Condominium - you get the picture. Not much going on. After 73rd street I am pretty tired but enjoying the ride and exercise and then... I'm there.

Where exactly? I am confused. There are signs everywhere: No entry, No cycling, No stopping, Just "No". Got an Amex? Then come on in. Got a battered old bike and a red face? Get lost sister.

Checking my compass (geek) I find a small path between two giant apartment blocks with crazy expensive frontages and head down to the beach and harbour. At the end of it I am 20 metres from the sea facing a 'No cycling' sign. "Screw You Uncle Sam! I have just cycled an Olympic distance and I will not be kept from my hero's boat for anyone." On I go...

No boats. No harbour. Nada. Just rich people, in rich outfits, being rich. Where is this place? I decide to rest as it's hotter than hell and take this hilarious photo of myself breaking the law. And then it happens, my first flirt with the 'law'. "Whoop" goes the siren, where did he come from? Outer space?

"Ma'am is that your bicycle?"
"What, the one I'm pushing? Er, yes Occifer"
"Did you happen to see that 'No cycling' sign you're leaning on?"
"Crikey, No! What a fool, So sorry."

I am then stared at for quite a few hair-raising moments before being escorted away, away, away. Get out you working class scum, you might infect someone!

Good grief.

So back on the highway looking for any harbour at this point. I ask but no-one knows. It is now 12.37 and I start to panic. At 1pm I must, MUST, be sitting on the boardwalk dangling my feet in the water and eating the cream cheese sandwich I prepared for the occasion (Dexter, Season 2). I ride around like a maniac for 20 mins, I'm sure my ears are on fire I'm so hot but to no avail. At 1pm I stop by the road; what a pathetic creature I must look like. I sit and dangle my legs over the edge of the roadside barrier.

"What are you doing?"
"I'm eating my lunch Morgan. I always eat my lunch at one o'clock." (sniff)

The ride back is utterly exhausting, I am out of water, my heart is sunk and nowhere is there a corner store, gas station, nothing. Rich people it seems do not require the indie-shop. Eventually I surmise that a side road would be better and turn off to find a place. as you can see I am not best amused a this point.

However, after a bottle of Liptons Ice Tea I am revived enough to make you this very short little video of my trip home.


NB: I have no idea how to rotate-right (sorry)

When I got back I decided to dine in honour of my favourite DJ, my favourite Painter and one of my Favourite films.
Which cheered me up immensely :-)

Tomorrow is the 4th of July and I am in two minds about whether to get a henna tattoo of the union Jack on my forehead. They're only $18.88. What do you think?