The Arena Of The Unwell: New York and Miami - Concrete jungles, plastic beaches

The Boltbus from DC to NY has leather seats, WiFi and mains sockets. Not bad for $19. I know NY fairly well and I'm only really here for one day so it's gonna be a pretty relaxed visit. Christina arrives just as I step off and we walk to her place. She's just recently moved here from DC to start a new job and shares a 4th floor apartment near Gramercy Park that must have the smallest bathroom conceivable. The building itself is typical lower east side style with the mandatory fire escape on the front. The location is great with lots of restaurants and bars in easy reach. There's no lift here but the walk up is good practice for me.

We head out (minus my camera, fail) to a Mexican restaurant nearby named Tortilla Flats and meet Christina's friend Patty. Monday night is Bingo night here. The numbers are laid out differently to back home and they play for lines, crosses or whatever pattern the guy with the microphone decides but it's essentially the same thing. The food arrives mid game. It's fantastic and more than enough of a distraction to subject Patty to the humiliation of an erroneous Bingo shout. Here, the only winning move is not to play. It's a school night and it's been a long one so we bail out and Patty dives in a yellow cab. We take a stroll back and I take to my sofa for the night.

Christina leaves me her key and heads to work. I get my shit together about 11am. The weather is unseasonably favourable, so much so that I manage to get to the Laundromat in shorts and sandals. Commando-style wash-day efficiency is what we're talking about. I grab lunch while I wait. Gramercy Bagel appears to play host to half the NY police force for lunch today and they've gone large. I figured out why they carry guns, coz these lard-arses couldn't catch a cold let alone any criminals. It has to be said though, it's a pretty damn good bagel. Laundry dealt with, the rest of my day is spent traipsing around Manhattan's electronics stores on a fruitless mission to equip my laptop with more than a measly 1GB RAM. Keep calm and carry on. It's the British way.

Christina's returns home at about 7:30pm. I'm craving sushi so we head to The Loop nearby. This is without doubt the best sushi I've ever had. It's pretty reasonably priced and I can't recommend it highly enough. From here we head out to find a pub. We settle on Fitzgeralds (yes, it's Irish, again) where we hook up with two of Christina's mates Matt and, err, Matt and see out the evening.

The morning requires a little logistical engineering to get the apartment key back to Christina before I say my goodbyes and take the A train to JFK. I hop off at the "JFK" stop and get fleeced for another fiver to get to Terminal 8 on the AirTrain. I can see where I need to be and I could bloody walk it in 10 mins if they'd let me but that wouldn't generate any cash, would it now? To add insult to injury, American Airlines decide to charge me $25 for the privilege of watching them dropkick my rucksack at bagdrop. Grrrrrrrr.

The flight arrives in Miami earlier than planned and Michelle picks me up from the airport. "Where's the hotel", she says. "Collins Avenue", I respond, being a bit dim. I'm oblivious to the fact this particular piece of tarmac is about 10 miles long and forms the backbone of South Beach. We find the art-deco style Carlton hotel, not to be confused with the up-market Ritz Carlton only a stones throw away and I start to wonder how many people have been shamed by that mistake in the past. We head out to Lincoln Road. It's full of al-fresco diners and bars so we pick one at random and finish off the evening with a couple of beers at a bar just opposite which serves London Pride. Over a couple of pints of said beverage we discuss Michelle's love of all things London and outright ambivalence towards her home town. I suppose the grass is always greener because most would give their right arm for this lifestyle.

Next day I get up late and walk north along South Beach as far as seems reasonable. The weather is almost as hot as as the girls here. I think they must have to take some kind of attractiveness exam through one of those pretentious dating agencies before stepping onto the sand. They presumably get extra points for silicone implants, or is that just my mind playing tricks? Cutting back onto Collins Avenue I head south back down to Lincoln Road and take a walk around the shops before heading back for a lazy night in watching a film. What's the boy on a budget without daylight and WiFi to do?

I've not been to Miami since I was nine years old during the height of the drug wars. Upon touchdown all those years ago (at the disturbingly acronym'd MIA) we were practically ordered to flee the city via the nearest interstate and headed north through (the other) Hollywood to Fort Lauderdale. Miami's a slightly different place now. The legacy of the drugs are the grand buildings which now support its new main industry, tourism. The older art-deco buildings, previously threatened with demolition and thankfully saved, are really impressive and add a quirky dimension to the town.

Again, transport in Miami is a problem so upon Michelle's recommendation I do my bit to support the towns new industry by taking a 90 minute Duck Tour around the Venetian islands. My fellow ducksters and I are driven down Washington Avenue, and along 5th Street before taking to the water at a marina by the port. We're get up close and personal to a number of the celebrity mansions out here and the Flagler Monument. None of these island existed prior to about 1920 when sediment from the shallow lagoon was dredged out for land reclamation, a task which would never be considered in these ecologically sensitive times. These are now without doubt the most exclusive and expensive pads in town. The return route takes us past Ocean Drive and I hop out for a closer look when the heavens open and I take refuge in Starbucks. The thirty minute downpour drives the plastic hotties from the beach in their droves like drowned rats. Revenge is a dish, best served wet.

Post monsoon, I head down Ocean Drive and check out the mansion outside which Gianni Versace's met his end, along 5th street and north up Washington where I find a bar named Playwrights and stick it on my "to do" list for the evening. Michelle arrives about 8pm, we get food on Ocean Drive, and head to the aforementioned bar. Whilst we drink the bar dry the DJ plays The xx, restoring my faith in Miami's musical tastes. I think we finish up in Felt Billiards & Bar Lounge over the road but I'm too far gone to remember straight.

The next day our cruising around takes us to Wet Willies for one of their lethal smoothies. Mine's called Shock Treatment and Michelle opts for Call A Cab. We really need a place like this in London, it would totally clean up. We hang out at The Clevelander with some chav characters who I'm informed are colloquially referred to as wife beaters. Learn something new every day. It's Halloween and the night is young so we sober up and head to Hollywood about 30 mins away. Michelle's staying at an apartment on the beach here so we grab a bite to eat here before gathering at Brenna's to allow the girls to fine tune their make up. Brenna lives in one of Florida's vast gated communities and the place has a distinct air of Wysteria Lane about it. Tonight we're heading to Seminole Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. It's the only legitimate casino in the area, taking advantage of a legal loophole that stems from the land belonging to native Americans. If Halloween is supposed to be scary it's nothing on finding a parking place round here tonight. I think half of Florida has descended and it's like one enormous fancy dress party (an unused term over here). It's less blood and guts, more crud and sluts. Some of the get-ups here are inspired and it's all very impressive. Tetris cubes, whoopie cushions, the second coming of Christ, over-sized drivers licences and more short shirts than you can shake a prick at (sorry, did I actually write that?). Michelle's mates are here. We sink a couple in the casino before heading out through the crowds to Automatic Slims where we settle in for the evening. Oddly, on the night the freaks come out, our collective dress code gets us turned away from our final destination on a technicality. It's probably for the best so we say our goodbyes and head back to Brenna's to sleep it off.

Late breakfast at The Beverly Hills Cafe, pick up my stuff from Michelle's, a quick scoot around Walmart and I spend my last night on the cheap at Airport Airways Inn and Suite in Miami Springs. Less said the better, it's not nice. I'm in deepest darkest stabsville and don't dare to leave the room all night.

Big thanks to Christina, Michelle and Brenna for their hospitality. London owes you one.

Next stop Quito, Ecuador.

Choon of the day: The xx - Crystalised