Oh, Cabana Boy

I don’t know a better way to kick off the day than with a couple of café con leche(s) – it’s always weird pluralizing nouns in a romance languages – and guava pastries. By the time the crash from the sugar begins setting in, the caffeine from the coffee takes over.

We met up with the fam yesterday morning at the famous Versailles – the south Florida mainstay for Cuban food, not Louis’ bankrupting palace. After I gringo’d myself out by asking for the café con leche without sugar, a sweet little Cuban lady in her early 80s walked up to the table and pointed at me as she began to tell me in Spanish that I wasn’t Cuban.

Huh…the girl with freckles and curly, somewhat reddish hair wasn’t Cuban? How’d they know?

Next stop was Miami Beach. While I didn’t love the parking, I was fascinated by the Cabanas on the sand…and the fact that they had people bringing out mojitos and ceviche to the beachgoers. I guess some of the cabanas are air conditioned, which struck me as odd. I mean, the Atlantic is right there – just go jump in.

It was definitely a different vibe than Panama City Beach – where the sunburnt Alabamians are carting down their Bush Lite – I was felt like Ricky Martin was going to pop out from a cabana at any moment. Livin’ that crazy life.

We still had a few hours before the wedding started so we all met back up at the Biltmore’s pool. So while this was no Venetian pool, they did serve mojitos…with real sugar cane…and they went down oh so smoothly.

Mmm, mmm, mm.

The wedding was beautiful and the live band was fantastic. There was even a groomsman who felt that socks with his loafers were optional.

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