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Walk, don’t walk

Walk, don’t walk. I crossed the road in front of the hotel to the beach. To the left of me were sun loungers camped on by hotel guests who had had a ‘resort fee’ imposed on their room rate and felt they should get their value for money. I didn’t bother.

Standing on the beach, staring out to see the next landfall is the island of Abaco in the Bahamas and after that Western Sahara. Didn’t realise that was a country. A vast emptiness by the looks of the map. Not somewhere to be stranded without water and protection from the sun. Obvs.

A luxurious position of having plenty of time to prepare for the journey ahead. I am sat inside the room with the door open to the balcony. It’s too exposed to the sun out there. 

On the ground floor of the hotel there is a Mexican restaurant. Top notch beef tacos with habanero sauce and a side of refried beans for lunch fair play. Stayed off the pop. V sensible me!

Fort Lauderdale is quite a noisy place today. Sounds like lots of building work going on. They call it progress. It is a Wednesday, apparently.

By Trefor Davies

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