Fort Lauderdale III, Miami I

I finally made a move. To bring you up to date on the last few days;

I went to the beach. I lay in the sun for about half an hour - my legs shone like pearls studded with the rubies of mosquito bites. I had 'sunblock' on, but pathetic english stuff is no match for mighty floridian sun, and after only 30 minutes some locals came and told me I looked like a lobster, so I retreated into the shade. I had a good time looking at the sky and the pretty beach.
Another day lazing around after that - Blondie gig on TV and a classic game of american football - American-style TV sloth is a part of the experience - I even ate some 'chips'.

Then I scored a lift down here to Miami with Uncy Mike, and returned to hostel-life. This hostel -The South Beach - is the deep end of the hostelling experience (im writing from the front parlour thing so I don't know how nasty I can be in case some of the staff see, but briefly it's dirty and cockroachy and loud and unfriendly and smeeellllyyy boohooo but cheeeaaap)

So I spent the morning walking down the beach here (turn a corner and see a massive postcard with white sand curving into flawless sky sided by a sea which is that shade of blue we all know to mean 'perfect for paddling and for swimming and for frolicking. FROLICK IN ME.'.
I didn't have my camara, but if I did, I would have taken photos of:
-my feet stepping out through inches of perfectly clear water.
-tiny greywhite fish that swam in even the shallowest waves around people's feet.
-topless sunbathers.
-naw, not that last one really.

Anyhow, you'll just have to look up Miami South Beach on the internet - it's pretty pretty though, but with a crazy violent diamond sun to threaten my neck. I'm checking out and moving to another hostel now - Adios.