Bienvenida Y Miami

I had the pleasure of mixing business with... er... pleasure this week. I left for Miami early Tuesday morning, driving myself down to the airport at the height of rush-hour traffic. Really, once I got to the bypass it wasn't too bad.

I was quite excited to park in the premium lot for this trip. Now that I have a brand-new car, I intend to stay in covered parking for short trips. So, obviously, when I arrived at 8 a.m. the lot was full. As usual, I had to schlep all my baggage across the desert known as Economy Parking. I call it a desert because there is no shade whatsoever and even at 8 a.m. it was already in the high 80s in Atlanta. ("That's what happens when you build a city only 50 miles from the sun.")

A funky little shop on Lincoln in South Beach.

But the upside: My first medallion upgrade! I went gold after my last flight to New York for vacation. This also meant I could use the expedited security line. I was pretty bleary-eyed still and suffering heat stroke I'm sure, so I walked almost all the way to the regular security line before remembering my newly acquired air-istocrat status. So... I walked back. No way I was missing out on the chance to find out how the high-falutin' folk live.


Now, when I travel for business I usually don't have to go directly to work on arrival. Most often I check into my hotel, have a couple hours to settle and then head over to do system tests for the next day's demo. So, I don't travel in a business suit. Jeans, cargo pants, skirts, linen trousers... my goal is comfort. In other words, I never look like a business traveler, but more like a college student on vacation. So, of course the security woman at the Fancy Elite Pants line had to give my paperwork a real once-over.

Sucker-photographed! I surprised Chris and Jen with my mad digital skills. They found my camera use embarassing. Tourist!

But no matter, gold card in hand I entered the magical land of Premium Service... and entered into the same line with everybody traveling coach. The difference is I got there a bit faster and my line was a bit shorter. In the end, it took as long as it ever has - peak flight time and all. I guess it's also because there's so much riffraff in the Fancy Elite Pants club these days.

But back to my magical upgrade status! I knew before even arriving at the airport that I would be flying first class to Miami - Delta automatically enters you for upgrade status when you are silver, but you are behind the golds and platinums so I never got moved on up. But as a gold, I was golden. Cushy, roomy leather seats, plenty of leg room, bottles of water waiting on our out-sized armrests, drinks while the peons are boarding... the works.

Thinking of you, Maisy. These aren't shoes, btw, they're "art."

So, the very first thing I did when getting to my window seat was knock over the two bottles of water on the armrest. My neighbor was pretty friendly about it, but I was immediately reminded that people like me (clumsy? riff-raff? newsies?) don't really fit in this world. Anyway, I refused a beverage from the flight attendant and jokingly told my neighbor I couldn't be held responsible for what might happen if I had a drink without a cap. Har, har, har.

Sweet, sweet hotel action.

And then... I promptly passed out. Yes, I was on 4 hours of sleep, having tossed and turned the night before, and I was just wiped out. So I missed the snack and whatever other perks were involved. (I suspect manicures, dancing girls and free money.)

The Miami airport was fine. Not remarkable, though here I am remarking. Orlando is a bit more flashy. I got my bags and a cab to my hotel on Biscayne Bay. (World's Least Talkative Cabbie drove me. Really. He said NOTHING to me the entire 20-minute ride. Shame, really, I like the talkers.) The hotel... nice. Really nice. We're talking multiple valets and doormen who pounce as soon as you pull up. Right on the water and balconies all around.

Marino's Miata. Note the trunk space issue.

So, I went up and relaxed. I was still feeling a little laggy so I ordered some room service and took a nap while waiting for my friend Chris to get off work. I also sat on the balcony enjoying the view and the ocean breeze. It's hot in Miami, but at least they have the water.

Met up with Chris and his girlfriend for a night on South Beach (home of all those poor dieters). I had to get to work by 8 a.m. and they are both school teachers; it was an early night. I fell in love with Miami on Tuesday night - the atmosphere, the people, the tiny dogs and the art deco, the palm trees. It's a swinging city with lots of style and character (and characters). We had some drinks, toured an art gallery/studio and invaded a Swatch store (they still exist!?).

Casa de Marino.

All in all, it was a short look but a lovely look. I'm grateful to Chris and Jen for showing me around.

The next day was all work and I won't bore you with that, other than to mention the major technical difficulties I experienced. After my last successful trip, it was a real nightmare. But I handled it and even walked away with kudos from co-workers and the audience for how I handled all the (out of my control) problems.

After getting back to the hotel where I had stored my suitcase, I changed in the lobby bathroom, hoping the employees wouldn't throw me out for acting like a bag lady. They didn't. I called Chris up and told him I had a little time to kill before the flight home; he insisted I see his house. He called me 5 minutes later: "Say, how many bags do you have?" He drives a Mazda Miata and was worried my luggage wouldn't fit. It did, with one of my bags on my lap.

Convertible top down, we zipped to the casa de Marino in Miami Shores (there are no shores here, I hear). He whipped up a couple rum and cokes and we toured the fantastic digs. He's really living the good life down there, pool and jacuzzi included. We sat by the pool and I dipped my legs in the water and we talked about life and art (he's making headway on a stylized comic of his own) and how we should visit each other more.

And then, all too soon, it was time to go to the airport. It was only as I was handing my bags to the check-in guy that I realized I was tipsy. I hadn't eaten in 7 hours and the 2 rum and cokes were now making their presence known. I briefly worried I could get bumped off my flight just for rum on my breath. But that's just craziness picked up from watching Airline.

The flight was delayed by about 15 minutes because the flight attendants' arriving flight was delayed. Flight, flight, flight. No first class fun this time. But I did have a spacer seat between myself and my neighbor (a very handsome young businessman who was far too business-y for me: iPod, Blackberry, full suit, book on leadership skills... really). Flying out of Miami, I could see a thunderstorm about half an hour away - a huge cloud which burst with artillery-shell shocks of light every second or so. It was the first time I'd seen a storm from the air and it was quite beautiful. Nearby was the little brother of that electrical giant; he was half the size and zipping and zapping only half as often, trying to keep up.

I was dozing but this time managed to score a snack and a drink - very good as I wasn't feeling particularly groovy. In fact, by the time I landed in Atlanta (late) I was feeling pretty lousy. Shaky, dizzy and weak. I tried to take it easy on the long walk across the desert from the terminal to my car, but I still had to stop twice to rest. Loaded up the car (now I'm not only using the cargo nets, I'm also rocking the tie-downs in my Matrix!) and drove home. A long, traffic-filled drive, which is odd for 10:45 on a Wednesday night. Got in, ate a bowl of cereal and CRASHED, leaving all bags unpacked and all beer untouched.

All in all, it was a great trip. I can't wait to visit Chris in Miami for real. I'm really glad I went for work because otherwise I wouldn't have discovered this city is so charming.

(P.S. Not every entry will be a blow-by-blow. I still need to find my rhythm.)

(P.P.S. Mystery illness diagnosis: Eat-Something-itis Idioticus)


Flights
Going: On time. First class and sleepy.
Coming: Delayed. Excellent storm view, slight turbulence.

Bags
Heavy-duty demo gear suitcase, overnight shoulder bag, laptop backpack and purse. (I learned a lesson: A shoulder bag is the solo traveler's enemy. It's cumbersome, particularly when you have a second, roller suitcase. And my shoulder/back hurt. I'll be buying a small, rolling overnight bag this weekend for my next trip.)