Kafka on the shore, part two
Miami has taken the place of Los Angeles as the city alleged sophisticates love to hate, but there is so much more to the largest metropolis in the American southeast than sand, cocaine and plastic surgery. Rent is low. The Cuban coffee is fabulous, better than anything brewed by the hipster evangelists of Portland or Williamsburg. The weather is the envy of the eastern seaboard. People dress better to go to the mall than most other Americans do to get married. The majority language is Spanish, and if you call for a cab you have to press 2 for an English-speaking operator. I love it unashamedly, and to the sunburned gringos who moan that Miami culture is either an aggrandisement or an oxymoron, I can only say you aren’t looking hard enough.