Aqua blue

Right through the side door, left at the street and another quick left on the outside of the hotel property line.  That way I don't have to run through the pool sunbathers.  Turn right and run along the boardwalk hugging the side that is sometimes covered in shade.  There's not much of a wind and it is mid afternoon.

The people are fairly colorful.  In all ways.  Kids with bright tatoos.  Tourists bedecked in loud attire.  I especially like the women wobbling on the bricks in sky high heels. I see a few in boots which makes no sense at all since it is 80 degrees.  However, the most ridiculous costume award goes to the woman wearing the fur vest over her swimsuit and Uggs with the Chanel purse.

Dogs are very little.  I almost step on a teeny white chihuahua that springs too close to my feet.  There's a man with a bright blue guitar.  Roller skaters weave their legs into quick figure eights as they race through red or yellow cones placed apart at perfect intervals on the pavement.  My favorite runner is a man in shiny green shorts over black fishnet stockings with a multicolored tucked in nylon shirt.  He runs on his toes.  Which is kind of cute.

The boardwalk veers to the right.  This is the channel where the enormous cruise ships float out to sea.  They look like giant icebergs with windows.  People sit on an unnaturally green hilly lawn and wave as they go by.  Rented sedgeways outnumber the bicyclists.  No one wears a helmet.

I pass a restaurant.  There are two cats that roam around - a gray tabby and a black one with green eyes.  They are totally nonchalant.  Don't appear to be bothered by any of the small dogs that yip at them.  I dodge the waiters who traverse the boardwalk which links the kitchen to the diners who sit at tables with kaki colored umbrellas.

Come to the marina.  Some of the yachts are pretty big.  All of them are pristine.  Watch the people rent jetskiis and buzz off.  Take a left up the pedestrian part of the bridge over the channel.  It is loud, dirty and ugly as the cars rush by.  I just want to get to the crest so I can turn around and look at the spectacle of the boats and aqua blue underneath me.  Turn around and run back.

This time when I get to the main part of the beach, I stay on the sand.  There is a little breeze but no shade.  My shoes are coated in white.  It is much quieter here.  I see a pelican come in for a landing.  Something about its giant beak
makes me so happy.  Probably a left over childhood memory from a fairy tale.

People lie on towels in the sand or on chairs laid out by hmm, what's the politically correct name for cabana boy.  I can see some of the layerouters are toasted to an uncomfortable shade of red. It's amazing that they can't seem to feel the pain of their burns because they just continue to lay out there.

I arrive back at the hotel. De-sweat.  Head out to the PanAmerican Art Projects Gallery.  And get lost in a sea of paintings.

(Pictured is Janda in one of the backrooms of the gallery).