FORT LAUDERDALE - FLORIDA

1st - 3rd Mar 2011

I set off to Fort Lauderdale on Tuesday afternoon. Good Haitian taxi driver got me to the 'Tri-Rail' station, near Miami International Airport, just in time to catch the local train to Fort Lauderdale. It was a 50 minute train trip. Incidently, I found myself sitting next to a Brit cabin-crew chief steward , working for American Airways, who was an Arsenal supporter. Unfortunately, my host, G, was waiting for me at the Fort Lauderdale 'Airport' station ( my oversight I'm afraid ). So it involved another and, as it turned out, completely useless Haitian taxi driver who, after getting lost, under a voodoo spell probably, eventually took me to G and C's  house. Now, prepare yourselves. Fort Lauderdale is something a bit special. It is about 35 miles north of Miami. To describe it as 'well heeled' would be doing it an injustice. It is, for the most part, a place of gob-smacking, breathtaking affluence and opulence. It is a 'yachties' Nirvana. There are thousands of square miles of rivers, canals and sea housing an incredible number and variety of yachts and boats of all description. It must be, without any shadow of a doubt, the largest and most expensive collection of floating mega-luxury in the world, by miles. I know little about boats, other than a passing knowledge of German container ships and once, 35 years ago, getting violently seasick on a yacht in Cyprus, but this collection of nautical extravagance did shiver even my somewhat cynical timbers, a bit. It is difficult even to guess the number or value of floating property in the area, from 50ft mono-hulls, larger catamarans to stonking great liner sized private yachts.

My hosts' house, and very smart it is, as so many others, is on a canal. I arrived late but just in time to be welcomed onto another Brit boat for a most civilised and much needed drink. Oh, how the 'other half' live. I think I do like boats but they are definitely at their best when tied up firmly to the shore.

Left: G's little dinghy with his two guard-dogs. Crime rates around here are, as a result, negligible.

Below: The guard-dogs at rest.

The next day, I went for a river-taxi ride downtown. This was a taxi ride with a commentary, and the commentator had a wickedly disparaging line in jokes ( ie he took the piss ) about many of the people who owned houses on the river bank. As well he might, because these house owners were of the wealthy variety. When you think of Nouveau Riche, these people were more so. They were Nouveau Hyper-Riche ad Extremis. Their 'houses', or small estates more like, have been constructed in an eclectic mix of styles centering on the Classical Spanish Hacienda cum Disney Fairyland variety. I was told that they only used them as 'summer cottages' for a couple of weeks in the year. They are owned by such luminaries as the oft re-married guy who started Otis lifts ( and much ribald comment from our commentator about "ups and downs" and being " shafted" by various ex-spouses ), Lee Majors ( an actor I believe ), the bloke who thought of 'Rentawreck' car hire, a Mr Wells of Wells Fargo fame, the bloke who owned and subsequently sold 'Blockbuster Videos' and several other 'celebs' who everyone on-board seemed to have heard of, except me. Also, an interesting chap who started work as a lowly mechanic in an engineering firm who had the idea for the 'intermittent windscreen-wiper' device. His firm tried to profit from his invention. He sued them and was awarded a huge sum of money. He built his house 'The White House' here which reputably cost $28 million. I show below some examples. There were many others. Summer cottages, don't forget!

Left: One of the mega-yachts.

Below: The 'White House' owned by the ex-mechanic windscreen-wiper inventor. There's hope for all of us. Maybe.

I've forgotten who owned these properties, and who cares, except my fellow passengers on the water-taxi were rivetted by who owned what and always 'how much it cost'. The Americans may not always be able to come up with so much ancient history but they often make up for it by exploiting the wealth factor and value of 'celebs' properties. A piece of undeveloped riverside land was pointed out to us, about 1/2 acre, which recently sold for $9 million. The money spent on these properties is astronomical. One begins to wonder who is suffering from a recession. There is curiously little mention of the relative squalor that exists in the outskirts of some of these urban paradises. In the USA, money is God!

I had a good wander downtown. It was a thoroughly pleasant place as one would expect. Good food and wine and hotels abounded. A machine which features quite largely here, as in many US towns, is the 'Sedgeway'. The mono-wheeled stabilised pogo-stick. You may have seen one. They are excellent machines. Here, they are used by young and old to mosey around town, and you can hire them cheaply. They go, flat out, at about running pace depending, I suppose, on your 'All Up Mass'. I believe they were introduced to Britain but, because they did not fit into any acknowledged 'category' of vehicle, they were banned from any public road, pavement or space. This, to me, is another example of typical bone-headed British legal lunacy. Our ( British ) mantra seems to be "if in doubt, ban it". Bloody idiots.

.

Left and below: The Sedgeway 'easy riders'. I can think of many people who might enjoy riding these things in UK. Bernie, for one. But, of course, you're not allowed to.

Below below: A common sight. A posse of Harley Davidson riders with their highly polished machines. They are all over the place when the sun is out. Not many of them are below the age of 50.

 Left: My beer. It wasn't too bad.



Below: a couple of fellow River-Taxi passengers. They were on holiday from Columbus, Ohio.

I much enjoyed my short stay in Fort Lauderdale ( I don't think the place has any connection with Lauderdale in the Borders, although it might ). I was generously entertained by my hosts, G and C and, as everywhere so far, the service and facilities in town and elsewhere were beyond reproach.



  

The guard-dogs, left, were most effective. They nearly had my leg off when I first arrived. They are called Lady Arwen and Sir Angus.






I was hoping to get a ship to take me north to Boston, but no ships go north from Florida at this time of year. Lots to the Bahamas and South, but not where I want to go. So it looks like a bit of a back-track by Amtrak. Might have to stop off somewhere en-route.
I will keep you informed, whether you like it or not................!