Miami – Julie Fredrickson

When I was a New Yorker, the flight to Miami was the preferred winter escape for everyone from Upper West Side Jews to Lower East Side hipsters. New Yorkers love Miami. We’d all decamp from the grey for long weekend’s beginning in December with Art Basel and ending in February as the various winter equestrian circuits wrapped.

Every restaurant that was popular in New York had its own branch tucked away in some form of boutique luxury hotel. The clothing stores had branches down here too. Even our preferred gyms like Equinox had their Miami outposts. Miami was in my mind the “Winter Borough” of New York City.

So I’ve been a little tickled by it’s adoption in the pandemic years as the New “New York” because it’s still the old New York for me. But it’s never been a particularly viable replacement as an all year respite as it’s the fucking tropics.

Even though it’s only April the muggy sticky soul sapping humidity is out in full force. I was awake at 7am and went outside to forage for coffee and breakfast. I could barely make it a block before I was perspiring. It was 79 degrees and 86% humidity.

Maybe I’m just a wuss. I fully admit that I’ve never liked the heat. I can barely tolerate Colorado’s dry heat. So I feel like I’m wilting in the Miami heat. I’m just not built for the tropics. And I’m not sure society is either if you have to run air conditioning year round.

I don’t think I’ve got the stamina to survive a power outage in Miami. The preppers and doomers that can make it through hurricane season impress me. Imagine going without power for several weeks after a hurricane. Days of a 72 degree dew point and 86% humidity are survivable but just barely. Hot weather doomers are nuts in my book.

The last vacation I went on was a long weekend to Miami in early February 2020. I had been following the outbreak as it unfurled in Wuhan at the time but it was before covid19 became a pandemic. It didn’t appear as if it had made it to America at that point. Three weeks later and I began locking down.

I remember having a terrible migraine on the second day of that vacation. It has been a question as to whether I was healthy enough to travel. We were still stabilizing my ankylosing spondylitis but we hadn’t been on a vacation for over a year at that point as I had spent the summer and fall in and out of hospitals. So we risked it. It seemed like we should at least try to take a vacation. Even sick folks deserve a break.

I took a picture of the darkened bedroom while I rode out my migraine in Miami

In hindsight obviously I’m glad we took a chance and went to Miami. Even if I spent a day of the trip in a dark room. As much as I was early on the pandemic, I didn’t fully appreciate that it would be so long and so restrictive. Even being able to be in a cold hotel room nursing a migraine was an unimaginable luxury for most of the pandemic. I’m so grateful we took that last trip. Sure it doesn’t look particularly exciting but to me I see it as the last time I felt safe traveling.

Now that I’m in Colorado, which is it’s own vacation destination, I don’t feel as much of an urge to get out of town as I did living in Manhattan. Sometimes you do really need to escape from New York. But no one needs to escape from Boulder.

Yet right now I am craving a vacation. I want to feel a change in routine. Hell a migraine inside a hotel is still more exciting than a migraine in my own bedroom. I’m not likely to get on an airplane as the cases are a mess but maybe its time to go somewhere. I hear Aspen is lovely in the fall.