So, it turns out, America is weird. This city of Miami, for example, I kind of love it a bit but at the same time I don’t understand it in the slightest. Things I now love:
- Cuban-style coffee
- Air-conditioning
- Retro cars and motorbikes
- Coffee-maker in room
Things I’m getting used to:
- Driving on the opposite side (although it still feels precarious).
- No tea available
- Tipping (an arcane art)
Things for which it’ll take a little time:
- Everything’s covered in sauce
- Jobs are divided by race far more than in London
- Manual jobs – black people
- Service jobs – Hispanic people
- Anything-collar jobs – white people
- When to cross the road?
Things I’ll never be able to do:
- Hail a taxi, apparently.
I’m enjoying this city of gleaming, roaring motorcycles, scorching March’s, pavement cafes, Cuban coffee and spotless tans. I ended up choosing from Ocean Drive’s myriad of restaurants on the basis of the music blaring from the PA - New Order good, Bob Marley better, REM’s Driver 8 - the definite winner.
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