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.
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.
These funny looking birds are crested terns.
Apparently, their tern recedes in winter.
I'd like to see how they look in the summer.
I don't know if that's one of them
or if it is a baby seagull.
A mean looking seagull. Or maybe he was just busy.
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.
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.
Brent looking like a rock star. He reminds me
of a hotter, younger Wayne Coyne here.
I entertained myself while Brent was paying the check.
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:
i'm hungryyyyy and you posted about fooooooood.
whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
but that looked like a super fun trip!
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.
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