Miami

Miami - what can I say - its like a stuck-up version of Key West. Two last places on earth and I had to inhabit one? Easily Key West. The body beautiful reigns at South Beach, Miami. Steroid dealers may do well. Having said that, its not bad at all.

Those famously HUGE meals you hear so much about in the states - Miami seems to be King. The locals clearly know that one meal out can feed your table of four, and subsequently maintain trim figures. The tourists? Well let just say that our meals fed our table of four for four meals, and still required the letting out of a belt buckle or two.

After a bit of a sleep in, I was keen to see the beach. And a lovely beach it is. Florida had turned on yet another warm day, and the water was beautiful.

Don't leave your sunnies at home, the sun off all the white art deco buildings is a killer. But I like it - palm trees and white sand, white buildings and white linen pants go so well.

From Miami we drove to St Augustine, the oldest town in the States, via the very lovely I-95. It started off as a very pleasant drive - we'd even stopped off for some home made candy and were enjoying our sugar rush when a few chunks of wood, including a 2ft section of wood, complete with rusty nails, came flying off the trailer being towed by car in front of us. With a few bumps and prayers we ran over the wood, thankful that nothing had bounced up and hit the windscreen (I mean full liability insurance on rental cars is nice, but who wants to test it, not to mention enduring the inconvenience and paperwork). By now fists were shaking furiously as we passed him, trying to communicate his stupidity at not securing his load. But it wasn't until another driver passed us and indicated that we should pull over that we found this little beauty in the grill:

A second after we pulled over a stranger after us just to make sure that we were OK and had not sustained damage to out radiator while out 'in the middle of nowhere'. Luckily, I've always depended on the kindness of strangers, and with a word of thanks we were on the road again, plank of wood in hand and a succinct note ready to return to the moron with the trailer in case we passed him again. Although, none of really wanted to risk getting that close a second time.

But I digress: the town of St Augustine still embraces its rich pirate history, and it was not unusual to see the town folk getting around in period dress. It was a quaint little place, not far off the coast to the east, and Georgia to the north. We'd deposited the plank of wood safely at the local Taco Bell dumpster, no longer requiring it's menacing nail as a reminder for irresponsible Highway driving, and were now free to explore. There were cobbled streets and water wheels, old stuff and a nice little river wrapping around the town.

St Augustine was only supposed to be somewhere to stop between Miami and Savannah, but we found it a really nice spot to spend the night. We also took advantage of the winery on the edge of town to sample the regions wines. I can't say I'm that impressed with the wines of Florida, but our server's bung eye and great sense of humour and made it a fun experience anyway.