I took an uber from Hollywood beach and went south. I was dropped off at one of the few places in Miami that’s familiar to me: North Beach. The ghost town up the road from the super popular and glamorous South Beach. The road that I’m referring to is Collins Avenue, which stretches from the southern most point of South Beach all the way to North Beach and even beyond that to Hollywood Beach, at which point it turns into Ocean Avenue and then Ocean Drive.
My driver dropped me off by the library by the Days Inn ghost town. In true Miamian fashion, I went in for a dip first and then after sunbathing and snagging a few selfies, I began walking South. The breeze of the Atlantic Ocean was barely enough to keep me from fainting but I found it to be lovely all the same.
Then somewhere around the 59th block I decided to take the road. White is Miami’s favorite theme, and there’s no where that this is more apparent than between 5600th and 5440th blocks on Collins Avenue where all the high rises are a colonnade of whitewashed, bright as hell, JLo-white.
Walknig in the heat is a feat– just before I was about to faint by the canal, I walked across the street to the whitest building of them all: The Grand Hotel, where I paid $10 for a pint of fresh squeezed Florida orange juice, and it was amazing. Florida OJ is light and not very tart or too sweet, it’s like an orange juice cloud, and a delicious summer storm of flavor.
I then ubered to the Lincoln Street mall in South Beach where I did some touristy shopping.
At night it gets hotter–it’s more humid. The lights are fluorescent and the music is more likely a 70s throwback than something from today’s top charts. This is the South Beach outside of the main touristy stretch, this is the vibe that makes it world renowned–it’s all about the retro man. It’s all about the places that call themselves “Art Deco groceries” or “retro liquor.” Disco never died in Miami. Nothing ever really dies here. This place is about celebration, always and above all.
Late night reaggeton echoes through the beach. Drunk chicks speaking Spanish. The warmest breeze and the prettiest lights lining the beach to the horizon on the north and south. The sky and sea are clear and dark. Lights from boats blink on and off all along the horizon, and breeze pours in.
Never again, till next time.
Penned by Alina K. A. 