It was a week ago we went up to Miami Beach to spend a windy twenty four hours at the Bentley Hilton on the beach.
Philip and Van came by, snowbirds from Maine who used to live in Key West, broke bread and petted Rusty.
The view from the seventh floor window included an ocean glimpse, quite a decent one. It was as close as I got to the beach pretty much as it's closed to dogs. No surprise considering how inconsiderate dog owners can be.
Early Sunday morning Rusty and I took to the streets. There was a running race in progress on the main drag but I like alleys anyway and Rusty could run here in peace so I got to see quite a bit of the backs of the buildings:
I guess V1 Visa students don't get a chance to learn Spanish:
On the return trip we inspected the more usual store fronts and art deco buildings one associates with this area:
These days Dade County is called Miami-Dade because they said no one knew where Dade was but everyone recognizes Miami. I've lived in Florida long enough these things irritate me so I still think of it as Dade County and if you don't know Duval County is where Jacksonville resides and Tallahassee is in Leon County too bad for you. I get grumpy about these things but I like history. So these old signs please me:
Rusty could bite through his leash in seconds but eh knows I want him to stay put so he does even though like all dogs he takes up all the slack I leave him for some reason. Good boy:
This guy was running the race thing so I suppose he had a reason to have a bottle of water stuck down his butt.
And headed back to the Keys. Card Sound Road: