We had enough of the dull old Richmond and moved up Miami Beach to the Miami Beach Resort, a larger and altogether happier drinking hole. Nice place, actually. The weather is holding and we’ve picked up the car, a brand-new White Sebring convertible with an electronic roof that folds into the boot at the press of a button. Clever us – we didn’t ask and weren’t told when we rented it that the oh-so-smart folding roof shit means that you can’t get any bags in the boot. But that will not stop us cruising through the Everglades in head-scarved splendour tomorrow.
A tip for anyone spending time in Miami – have a drink or meal [the best rib-eye steak and fries ever] at Smith and Woolensky’s at South Point Park. The bar outside sits alongside the water and the cruise-liners glide past on their way to wherever around 5pm – get there at 4pm to beat the rush and watch the sunset and the Race as it struts its stuff. We couldn’t tell if we could see happy tourists waving ‘hello’ to us or inmates on prison ships calling for help but, well, the steak really is the best in town.
Swallow-tailed Kites beckon in the morning.