I only wanted a cheap pair of running shoes but was sneakered into purchasing an, "intelligent" pair of Nike's. I can't really afford them but in Miami its all about looking the part.
Silver trims, ipod transmitter under the sole and side impact cushions that Volvo motors would be proud to install. They were more Bling than a 50cent video. I was going to fit in well on Miami beach.
Jumping beds, cities and countries every few days for the last 9 months had knocked my routine for six. So running along a dramatic stretch of south beach each day was going to ease me back into life before I returned to work in England. That said, I have no idea what I'm going to do when I return??
After a crash course in culture spanning 6 continents; 2 weeks of unashamed shallowness seemed fitting.
Before departing London a typical day looked like this....
wake up - eat toast on the toilet - run for train - walk in fumes - 15min lunch at PC eating sandwich - worry - fidget - panic - run for train - eat dinner - watch TV - try to sleep - REPEAT
My new "Miami" routine is similar but you'll notice some subtle differences...
wake up - eat bagels on the beach - run along the sand - walk in Atlantic breeze - 2hr lunch in Latin district - swim - sunbathe - nap - watch "snapped," factual programme about murders in the USA - dinner at Joes stonecrab - cigar - sleep like a log, REPEAT
There's only 5 days left before I return home and I am writing from white sands where a constant, cooling breeze brings well deserved comfort.
I reflect on the last year, Africa, Asia, Australasia, Latin America and North America. So many experiences, cultures and ways of living a life. Now the cash has gone and I must think about a new career.
I glance across from my sun lounger at beautiful bodies, show-offs on jet skis and people under navy parasols being served cocktails. Its bottled hedonism. - but I love it!
There's one lady with a bikini in SHOCKING rhodamine pink. Its so bright that you could sell it to cyclists who wish to ride at night. Money might buy you a lot of things here, but taste is not necessarily one of them.
The Ritz Carlton's loungers are just to my left. There are double loungers for lovers, tent-like parasols and iced buckets of champagne. A tall, muscular man wearing white shorts and T-shirt with the words, "Tanning Butler," wanders amongst the longers. Around his waist is a utility belt containing several bottles of tanning lotion, sprays and oils. Like a cowboy in a western film, I watch (jaw agape) as wealthy ladies with model-like figures summon him to performs his duties.
It suddenly occurs to me what job i need to be applying for.
