Miami with Girlfriends

Travel is my jam. I was a traveller before the internet, and selfies and Instagram made it cool. I was a traveller before I had the opportunity to travel, and will continue to be until I leave this earth, whether I travel or not. I was born with an insatiable curiosity and a need to go.

And yet for several years travel became a construct. I went to graduate school as a single mother, was raising kids and returning to the workforce. And then a little thing called the pandemic happened. Even during those lean years I managed to travel a little, mostly in the USA and Mexico. Most notably, I travelled to Miami with a few girlfriends, a quick two hour flight, for an annual-ish getaway weekend.

Piling into one hotel room we laugh until we cry and our cheeks ache. Girlfriends make the world go round. For two days we are as carefree as college kids - eating and drinking delicious things, talking a mile a minute, soaking in the pool and taking long walks on the beach and throughout the city. 48 hours with girlfriends is the best kind of medicine. If you have never had a hotel pajama party with your besties; I highly recommend it. (You can do this close to home ... something we have done too.) I return home feeling five years younger.

Having lived in Latin America, Miami turned out to be an unexpected gift.

I knew there would be a huge amount of Latin influence, but Miami exceeded my expectations. This is a town that beats to its own drum. I was able to order in Spanish at restaurants and chat with cab drivers about politics south of the border. You can eat your way around Latin America in a weekend. Mexican chilaquiles for breakfast, Peruvian ceviche for lunch and an Argentinean steak for dinner. There is even a local franchise of my favourite chain of heladerias (or ice cream shop) from Buenos Aires called Freddo in Brickell neighbourhood. I lit up when I stumbled on it and hugged the sign. My darling dulce de leche how I missed you. Latin music permeates sticky humid evenings. Waves pound the beach and neon lights up the art deco strip in South Beach. I love the rawness and the amazing art of Wynwood district, bright with amazingly colourful graffiti. Sexy fashion and outrageous cars drip in sensuality.  

And then in a flash the dream would be over and I would be transported back to the real life of drop offs and pick ups and school lunches and errands. My cheeks would hurt from smiling, my belly ached from laughing and my senses were overloaded by the too muchness of it all.

There is nothing like a little Miami, and your girlfriends, to bring out your inner sparkle.