Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Pompano Beach

I arrived at the Fort Lauderdale airport later than expected because my second flight was delayed. I'd already had a really bad trip by then. I'd slept for less than an hour when I boarded the plane in Paris, spent a really long time at Customs in Philly and had an awful stomachache in addition to the flu I still hadn't fully recovered from. When I landed in Ft Lauderdale, the last thing I expected was to see Brent before I got my suitcase. But there he was, waiting for me with a bouquet of red/purple flowers (I'm really bad with flower names, so I don't know what they're called). After three and a half months apart, and countless hours spent talking on Skype, seeing him in person was surreal. 

The next morning, we woke up late, and he made me breakfast. I had tiropita for the first time. That afternoon, we walked to the beach, passing by houses with tacky Christmas decorations on dry, yellow lawns, or under palm trees. 

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At the beach, I saw the palest sand I'd ever seen in my life, and the brightest sun too. I had to negatively adjust the exposure by 1.33 because it was so bright. 

On the beach, I saw the cutest birds. 

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These funny looking birds are crested terns. 
Apparently, their tern recedes in winter. 
I'd like to see how they look in the summer. 
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I don't know if that's one of them 
or if it is a baby seagull. 
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A mean looking seagull. Or maybe he was just busy.
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This was my first time seeing a pelican. 
I wish I'd seen it catching a fish too. 
Or, you know, carrying a baby. 

After spending about an hour walking along the beach, we stopped to get a slice of pizza at a pizzeria owned by a South American man who spoke a mix of Spanish and English to Brent. 

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Spinach and tomato pizza. 

Brent had warned me about the quality of pizza in Florida, explaining that the water used produced a very bad dough, but that crust was actually one of the tastier I had in Florida. I can't say the same of an otherwise really good Italian restaurant we went to in Weston that had a really thick crust that looked like it had been made at Pizza Hut. I'm very particular about my crust. It needs to be thin. 


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Brent looking like a rock star. He reminds me
of a hotter, younger Wayne Coyne here. 
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I entertained myself while Brent was paying the check. 
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As an amateur of fine cuisine, I can't tell you 
how sad I was that we couldn't dine at that 
fine establishment. Maybe another time. 

2 comments:

Rhiannon said...

i'm hungryyyyy and you posted about fooooooood.
whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
but that looked like a super fun trip!

Anne said...

That's because all I did in Florida was eat. It's amazing I didn't gain 20 lbs because I had so much food. I'll only post about how disgusting all food is from now on, don't worry!

It was a lot of fun. More posts are coming.