goodnight, Miami

darlings

we are Renewed, Refreshed and feeling Really well (and Quite a bit sun-love-burnished)

for some reason (no alarm – no need) we awoke with the dawn over the ocean.

isn’t it breathtaking?

and then – not long after (well, after the hours or so it took to walk down the beach to enjoy the people putting out chairs on the sand and the dogs running free with their owners panting to keep up) – suddenly – blue skies – and a BALLOON!Do you know The Tides?

At least that’s what it was called when we were Last Here (for the Millennium) – now it’s called King & Grove The Tides.

Anyway.

we had a lovely breakfast.

no one was around (twas early, we suppose, for beach lovers and nightclub dwellers) so it felt a Tiny Bit off-season-in-Eastbourne and sort of Anita Brookner, writing alone, by the window, sheafs of papers and plot points (yes, we’re writing Something New) – and yet delicious.¬†

and then – an afternoon by the Pool.

why yes.

that Is Rimbaud.

a decent counterpoint of deep thought and wondrous prose poems to the ice-cream beauty of South Beach, darlings.

why not, indeed?

did you have a simply gorgeous day? We heard NYC has rain.

oh dear.

sigh.

thank goodness we have One More day (but not night, for tomorrow we return to the glittering Gotham in-the-rain).

so – for the last time – until we don’t know when (and isn’t that just one of the Most Magical things about Life?) –

goodnight, Miami

heavens to Betsy with Robert G. Zuckerman

picture this, darlings – 7.35AM – walking (in the silver shoes) across the deserted beach – and SUDDENLY a huge tropical rainstorm breaks open the clouds and soaks us to the skin – we RUN through the palm trees swaying dangerously and head for the boardwalk and over to the art deco hotels and look for a place to eat breakfast and dry off……

and…..

…….heavens to Betsy.

what a lovely hotel.

and thank the gods for Robert G. Zuckerman.

who took this wondrous brooding and magnificent shot of David Bowie which we sat under (the print – Bowie himself, sadly, was not in South Beach having breakfast this morning – and despite living down the street from him in NYC, we never see him there either…….a deeply private man, we understand and nod approvingly with respect).

Robert’s work is so evocative and beautiful and thought-provoking and timely – and it’s all over the hotel on the different floors and in the lobby area and the breakfast lounge – so we spent a while drifting and looking and admiring and stopping and pausing and thinking.

a beautiful antidote to a tropical rainstorm.

see – even the rain has its necessary results – and not just for the beautiful flowers and the swimming pools…….

oh. darlings. the swimming pools in Miami are a dream unto themselves.

look.

we’ve been feeling a certain sensation all day – and we realized what it was – it’s 1984 (not the book, the Year).

see – the Pool is straight out of a Duran Duran video.

the buildings are buttercup yellow and iced gem-pinks and Very Athena poster on one’s bedroom wall to stare at while doing Latin homework and wondering why on earth Jane Eyre didn’t get a better job than governess until someone explained women had Very Few Choices in Those Days and if geography is necessary then why do we have to talk about soil samples rather than La Vie Jet Set maps of Monte Carlo?

you see.

1984.

definitely.

even our soundtrack today (while wandering through the Delano – isn’t That a sexy place and no mistake) was from 1984 – don’t you just Adore music from that year? shivery and thrilling and full of excitement at Life to come and the creatures beyond the Veil and all other strange feelings.

The Delano.

This Mortal Coil, 1984.

we are sure Robert G. Zuckerman would have some Tales to tell from 1984 and beyond – perhaps we’ll write to him and ask (you know we love writing to talented people)……but in the meantime, another one from his portfolio (it’s linked so do Click and see the rest on his site)

the magnificent Morgan Freeman – also on display (again, the print – not Morgan himself) at the Betsy Hotel in South Beach.

oh we Are having a lovely mini-break.

and almost unwinding as we type from the Big City Life back up North.

gosh. Miami.

gosh, darlings.

here we are in Miami (for a “mini break” as Bridget Jones called the something-of-a-small-yet-perfect-holiday) and it’s everything we remembered it to be from 12 years* ago when we were last here.

we even saw someone in a toothpaste-minty-shade suit at the airport with a devil may care pastel cotton shirt in contrast rose-pink and we knew we were heading to South Beach once more.

now – there are Quite a few things different with our Life since we were last here – and not just the tumors and the Corporate America job and writing-a-book and all that – although those are pretty big things in themselves.

we can’t really go into it (and it concerns our life Before we became teamgloria anyway) but safe to say it was lovely to drive our own car (well, the black one we rented that goes awfully fast) this time (we don’t believe we actually had a driving license last time we were here – Long Story) and we were in a relationship and They were driving because they Knew The Way (and we so clearly did not in those days, love)……..we digress.

the point of telling you that we were driving is that we always hankered after re-enacting the Drive-Across-the-Bridges (past Gloria Estefan’s house and, allegedly, Oprah’s too on one of the Islands) just like Jeff Goldblum in Holy Man when he and Kelly Preston (in a lovely two piece suit and an executive attitude of no nonsense to match) meet Eddie Murphy.

oh.

wait.

we forgot.

the movie is a modern parable about home shopping and buying-what-we-might-not-need.

hmmm.

which means it was probably about the shopping-channel further up (down? depends on which way you’re standing) the coast in FL.

it’s a sweet movie.

and Eddie works the flowing caftan and beatific smile Rather Well while Jeff Goldblum has a lovely character arc.

back to Miami.

so we’re here on a mini-break: to relax, write, take pictures and see a Writer Friend-of-a-Friend – we’ll let you know if he feels comfortable us revealing his identity and the more elevating parts of our conversation tomorrow, darlings.

In the meantime, the room is divine.

Looks a lot like Paris – non?

all this and breakfast by-the-pool with a very serious tome about Rebecca West.

our sort of mini-break.

*yes, you did do your math/mathematics/sums correctly – 12 years ago was indeed The Millennium (we got that right, non?) and we were Here. we still lived in England at the time but came here to escape the cold and other responsibilities of back-home at that time of year. At the stroke of midnight we dashed (languidly) down to the beach and all the cruise ships lined up on the horizon and let off their deep fog horns. So romantic – like the Normandie with Noel aboard and Gladys Calthorpe fighting with Gertie for a spot-at-the-Rail (or the bar).

this is another magical transformation realization – we were reading a book during our trip here in 1999-2000 and had dinner with one of the people In the book just last month.

gosh.

always good to remember how far one has come in the passage of time and the help of Many Friends, darlings.

how was your Monday?

peering gently through the computer via the interweb at you with concern and love.

sometimes Mondays are hard.

because it’s rare that one gets to do a Monday in Miami – we know – unless one lives here, of course.

so – your Monday – how goes it (or how did you fare if you’re in Europe and tis far behind you now).

do. tell.