My ami

After being hustled at the airport in Bogota, my day deteriorated further when the customs official was reluctant to let me through because its suspicious to enter the country by land and leave by air. Apparently. It got MUCH better however when I got to Miami and found that NOT ONLY did the airport transfers people have no record of my payment, but also the hostel I was staying at was suffering from a similar affliction. Luckily it turned out that I was also something of a whizz at arguing with people in English and it was all resolved in no time.
Miami was literally insane. I think possibly the strangest place to fly into after 5 months in the third world. A burger and fries going for a mere $20 after the 50p they would have cost in La Paz just seemed crazy. The beach front was littered with cars that cost more than the average house and the shops local to Miami Beach range from Tommy Hilfiger to Versace. I felt like I was back in the slums.
Luckily I had some lovely roomates; 5 boys from all over the world who unfortunately were off to the keys the next day, but who I planned to spend the next night with. My first night in Miami I chatted to the boys, sampled the Miami beach fare and checked out some Miami stylee Christmas lights. Back at the hostel it seemed a bit like America attracted a very different kind of backpacker as noone was sharing a communal beer, and instead were all plugged into their personal laptops. I counted myself lucky with my nice roomates who left me a lovely note the next day before they left for Key West (see left)...
During the next day I decided to go for a run and take in the scenery which was enjoyable, and then decided to head for the beach where I was incredibly entertained to find that the beach was being ploughed by tractor just to make the samd look nice again. After months of living among people who struggle to feed their families the whole concept of raking the beach each morning seemed insane!
post lying in the yummy sunshine I went for a big walk to take in the Miami beach life, and got harassed repeatedly by many young strange men on segways... the matrix strikes again...
That evening the boys were back to relieve me of my responsibilities, and to explain why our room was littered by car parts. Apparently Tazi (as in boy from Tasmania) owned a car repairey place and had been collecting fenders, bumpers and the such all over the USA. Highly entertaining for his roomates as he as forced to store them in his bed and then sleep all curled round them akin to a hibernating bear. We spent the evening drinking the four bottles of wine Frenchy (as in boy from France) had bought us, and playing with the $80 worth of bubble wrap Tazi had purchased to insulate the car parts on the plane ride home the following day. Needless to say hilarity ensued involving Germy (boy from Germany... genius nicknames I'm sure you'll agree) being wrapped in said bubble wrap.
Tazi had to catch a plane early the next day so we agreed to share a taxi to the airport at 4am. A very large taxi. And despite the fact my flight wasn't till eight. But it seemed as good idea after all the wine. The boys decided the best way for Tazi to actually get his plane was to go out drinking until the 4am departure, so off they went leaving me to get about 2 hours kip. Now I dont know if you've ever tried to put a drunk Tasmanian, a fender, and two bumpers in a taxi at 4am, while the miserable git of a driver WATCHES, but let me assure you its no picnic. However we did get to the airport, and the Tasmanian was sooo drunk he didn't realise he paid the whole fare, so that was fine. And, minus the 3 hour wait, I was off to Seattle!