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Twas the Winter of Content - III

A long lazy sunny afternoon sitting in a cafe with a lethargic beard drinking lassitude andiced-tea is a reasonable time to dwell on the patchwork fraying fabric of Florida, the littlethats survived the eroding onslaught of short-term memory. Continuing the series,

heres the sunshine state through my stained-glass window.

Florida, as I saw it, is the wild, overgrown and rundown backyard of America. Steppingout of the airport and through a tinny clanging train I reached a muggy bus-stop in adecrepit part of town. Two homeless black folk next to the stop bickered loudly for theamusement of the waiting commuters while a fat white cop looked on warily. The bus toHomestead took its own sweet time to arrive. Once the crowd had settled in, ahomeless, talkative, unkempt dude lounged next to me and we chatted all the way tothe Everglades International Hostel. This hostel, in a sketchy neighbourhood, is thehippiest of the hostels Ive stayed in. Its backyard had people lounging on hammockstied to trees holding up a treehouse or stretched out on couches scattered under leafy

tropical plants. A group of bikers had pitched their tents in one corner next to a shedholding kayaks. A cylindrical room with overhanging persian-style drapes and dark-bluelighting lined with divans, beds and couches housed primarily the Asian kids spread out,making love to their laptops while a few had crawled on top to sit and chat on the flatroof of the internet-room. Needless to say it was a magnet for interesting, well-traveledand off-beat people... precisely the kind you stay in hostels to meet.

My dorm had two guys from one of the scandinavian countries (I forget which) and anolder South African guy whod spent his entire life on his boat transporting goods fromone country to another, or taking up part-time jobs repairing boats between stints. Anervous tramp with a weakness for booze, hed traveled all around the world.

The next morning over a breakfast of self-service pancakes, I met Aurelie, a French girlworking with a fancy watch company in Switzerlandwho held a passport with visas that read like the indexof an Atlas.

Wed both signed up for the Everglades tour with thehostel for the day, and it was fabulous. Our guide, Iforget his name, was a Nat-Geo level dude whod ledexpeditions to places deep in Africa, South America,the Netherlands, Switzerland, the-middle-of-nowhere

in Alaska and had served as a paratrooper with the USAir Force.

The first part of our tour was the Anhinga trail, namedafter this bird on the left. The trail is a boardwalk builtover swamps with a startlingly high density of birdsand alligators, in spite of the tourist stampedes. Gatorsbeadily eyeing our group had a tantalizing buffet

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selection consisting of French cuisine, Chinese and Japanese delicacies, their staplefattening American diet and of course, a lean bony Indian starter to whet their appetites.

The second part of our tour was quite literally off the beaten track. We parked by theroad in the middle of nowhere and proceeded to wade knee-deep through Cyprus domeswamps right next to the sunning alligators and snakes.

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Rudely awoken owls stared crossly at us as we squelched our way through this living-room of the gators, with exceptionally muddy feet. The long forms written in legalesethat the hostel had made us sign for the tour now made perfect sense. A pretty Chinesegirl with ambitions of being an American-by-marriage was squeamish about getting wetand clambered on to our guide, below-right.

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Wet and hungry we rolled into the visitors center of the park, next to the Evergladesdock, and lunched on sandwiches and chips by the sea. Sprawled on the grass,sunbathing and swapping tales of the travels wed taken around the world.

After lunch we went kayaking in a creek, through narrow channels between dense

elephant-grass and soggy marsh with crocs and gators floating an arms length away.Keeping a respectful distance from a massive croc, that our guide called the Croczilla,he told of a previous trip where aguy had panicked and plonkedinto the brackish water right nextto a gator and hed had to jump into help him back on to theunstable kayak, while his ownkayak floated away. Fortunatelythere were no mishaps on our trip.I didnt take my camera with me

here, so have no cel luloidmemories of the place.

We rowed back to our van with thesetting sun, before the mosquitoesswarmed. Damp, t i red andsatiated we trundled on back tothe hostel on our bumpy ride.

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That night at the hostel was a pizza night, baked over a tandoor in the backyard. I hadplanned on leaving for a canoeing trip up the everglade coast to camp on desertedbeaches deeper in the park the following day. The park only had two-person canoesthough so it was fortunate that Aurelie too was looking for a similar trip. She was

excellent company, all throughout.

We rented a car the next morning, bought supplies and drove up to the Evergladesdock. The weather-gods though werent as gracious though, with squalls and high wind-

gusts expected on the ocean.So we decided to hike downto the beach instead.

The sweaty hike throughmosquito-infested scragglyforests with cobwebbed,

drooping branches gave agood idea of the tough terrainthat native Americans hadonce thrived in. Present-dayAmericans though seemedl e s s r e s o u r c e f u l . W es t umb l ed upon a guystudying insects, wearinground professorial glasses, ahat and shoes and... nothingelse. Wildlife truly roams

freely in the Everglades.

The overgrowth of the jungle at times gave way to a wide-open prairies of knee-highweeds swaying in the ocean breeze. In a few hours, the trail petered out altogether into

a bo gg y mo ra ss th at wesquelched through to reach ourdestination, the deserted andironically named ClubhouseBeach.

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The beach was a narrow pebble-strewn stretch between the marshes and the sea. Weset up tent and collected driftwood before the sun set. The stiff sea-breeze that had keptus from canoeing was now a blessing as it kept the swarms of mosquitoes away. It wasnice to have a steaming veg stew and cheese sandwiches, cooked on a crackling firenext to a gargling ocean under a clear night sky.

The next morning we packed up and set off early after a quick breakfast. We had a longhike back and were running short on drinking water.

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Then followed a long drive down to Key Largo. These various little Keys are strungtogether like a keychain by the wide Highway 1, which does looks kind of ridiculous atplaces where these tiny islets are just wide enough for the road and nothing else. Westayed at a cheap inn by the sea, near the John Pennekamp Coral Reef state park.

Next morning began withan excellent breakfast of eggs, potato rashers, toasts, coffeeand several etceteras at Mrs Macs Kitchen, an old family-run establishment nearby.Scuba-diving inthe Coral Reelpark was closedfor the day due torough seas so wechecked out theC r a n e P o i n tmuseum nearby.It recorded the

history of nativetribes who livedt h e r e f o rcenturies beforet h e S p a n i s hwiped them out. Italso preserved ap a t c h o f t h eprimitive coastalrainforest frontingthe ocean along

with a rescue-center for injuredbirds.

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No visit to Florida is complete without a visit to its beaches and some of the mostpristine beaches are found at the Bahia Honda State park. The drive up to the park wasa beautiful stretch with a seven-mile long bridge spanning the sparkling blue ocean.

One of the beaches at the State park was open to the rough sea and a couple of kite-surfers arced back and forth skipping over the waves. A smaller beach on the other sidewas a sheltered cove, with water perfect for a swim.

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We stopped for dinner on the way back at Keys Fisheries and Market, a deli-stylerestaurant serving the catch of the day on a wooden porch overlooking the sea. It was anice spot to catch the sun as it drowned in the green waters after a hard days work.

The next morning, with the sea still choppy, we headed back to South Miami. Back to

the hustle and noise of a city known for its party-life. The hostels near South beach areexcellent if youre of the nocturnal persuasion. Kind of noisy if youre not. The southMiami beach nearby is the Baywatch of the Eastern coast... beaches with beautifulsand, surf and people.

A string of restaurants and dance bars crowded the boulevard lining the beach.Sparsely peopled during the day it became a differentanimal at night. Not too many snaps of the place though sowill wrap it up here.

The Sunshine State has a lot to offer anyone who loves thesea. The swamps of the Everglades are raw and wild in away few places on Earth still are, the Keys have pristinebeaches and unmatched scuba and snorkeling spots whileMiamis south beach is The party-capital of the US.

For a fitting end to my winter of content, heres toFlorida...