MIAMI BEACH — fletch.nyc

*Written during the beginning of the coronavirus (COVID-19) quarantine*

Of the many places I’ve written articles about, Miami may well be the oddball child.

Truth be told, I never planned on writing an article about it. I also didn’t plan on the entire world shutting down due to a global pandemic, so there’s that.

Given the isolation we’re all experiencing, now more than ever is a time to fall in love with the journey of reading and writing and be transported into world’s beyond our own. As Frederick Douglass famously said,

“Once you learn to read, you will be forever free”

The same can be said for writing and for photography, and frankly all forms of artistic expression. When we write we revisit the past, examine the present or invent a new future all together. With photography, we’re reminded of the minute details we may have forgotten that collectively add up to the totality of a locale’s emotive potential.

And where better to transport yourself to in all this mess than a sandy beach? For most it’s an easy sell; I for one live in New York City and felt the ensuing lockdown and uncertainty caving in as the COVID-19 situation escalated. And yet, I’m from a beach town. The beach to me is not exotic but in fact my normal. Truth be told, the only places that have satisfied me for most of my adulthood are those which are antithetical to the experience of my childhood in the sunny coves of Laguna: places like the foothills of the Rockies in Colorado, the cloud forests of Colombia, the endless blocks of central Brooklyn.

Recently however I’ve felt a desire to return to that warmth. The ocean, regardless of where on its shores we meet up with its extent, has an indescribable pull that seems ingrained in our innermost nature. I touched on that in my last article when describing my first encounter with the Indian ocean, the last on my list, and the strange familiarity that ensued despite being on the literal other side of the earth (fun geography fact, the word for something being on the exact opposite side of the Earth is antipodal, and you can find out where that’d be for you here with this fun online map…also I lied, New York City is not antipodal to India, in fact if you were to burrow through the Earth from NYC you’d end up off the coast of Perth, Australia in balmy weather though likely surrounded by great white sharks).

Finger covered the lens here but eh, what can ya do. Miami Beach. Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400. — Finger covered the lens here but eh, what can ya do. Miami Beach. *Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400.*

Writing about Miami for me is strangely similar to writing about the beaches of Goa. As a California kid, the “other side” of America seemed as foreign as the Asian subcontinent to me growing up. It wasn’t until 2018 that I went to the beach on the East Coast (in Asbury Park, NJ). There’s simply no incentive for West Coasters to fly across the country to get to another beach, especially when most of us desire waves and there are few to be found on the Atlantic (though they certainly can be had…I demand that you check out this article from Surfline earlier this year that opens up with an incredible photo of a wave being ridden in South Beach during a swell).

With all this in mind, it was honestly far down on my list of places to visit. Like Philadelphia (which I’ve yet to write an article on after accidentally leaving the developed film on the subway), it was just a city in the back of my mind whose coordinates I was aware of but beyond that had rarely considered exploring. And like Philadelphia, I’m happy to report that I was caught entirely offguard.

Ignore the haters who say Miami is tacky or good for nothing but partying.

I love Miami.

I feel more qualified than most to make this claim; after all I don’t drink, generally go to bed around 9:30pm, and think of “going crazy” as staying up on a Saturday past 11pm to watch World War II in Colour or Ken Burn’s The West. Sometimes when I feel like absolutely sending it, I’ll eat a box of blueberry Macro Bars and purchase a movie with actual money on a debit card, then sleep in till 8:15am and get a juice detox to recover. While I recognize that few can keep up with such a fervid pace, it’s unquestionable that I’m well-positioned to evaluate a party town.

Miami to me is not about the clubs nor bars at all (though it is for those who care, and always should be, have fun). Miami, in fact, is total relaxation. When I arrived in from NYC, the water temperature was 78 degrees Fahrenheit and the air an incredible 85 F in mid-February. Pulling out of the airport and driving over the bay, the sheer tropicality of the place caught me off-guard. Sure, of course, I expected it to be warm and full of palm trees. But as someone who’s comprehension of mainland America had excluded the Floridian peninsula, the idea of this counting as America was strange, exciting…new.

Miami Beach. Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400. — Miami Beach. *Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400.*

The Hotel Impala, where I stayed. Miami Beach. Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400. — The Hotel Impala, where I stayed. Miami Beach. *Fletcher Berryman 2020. Pentax K1000. Kodak Gold 400.*

As someone who lived in Colombia, the influence of Latin America was immediately apparent. Yes, everyone says this, but the way in which it pervades Miami and by which routes is very different from that of California. California, for those not aware, in fact has more Hispanics than any other ethnicity in its diverse population, including Caucasians and Asians. The difference, however, is that the vast majority are Mexican or from some other Central American country like Guatemala, Honduras or El Salvador. Miami on the other hand, referred to as The Capital of Latin America, is jam-packed with Cubans (Cuba is only 90 miles away, due South), Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Venezuelans, Brazilians and more. They bring with them that Caribbean Spanish flair that’s hard to describe but is instantly recognizable.

This influence marries with the Art Deco architecture and pastel buildings of South Beach to create a vibe that’s entirely its own. For me, walking the streets of the Historic District didn’t feel cheesy at all. I felt transported back to the many eras that have defined Miami, all at once: the 1930’s when the buildings first went up…the 80s when the city exploded from the drug trade, and the present, with me, some ignorant CA guy by way of NYC, wandering around with a 70s camera taking pictures of people without permission with a huge grin on his face as the afternoon rain soaked him head to toe.

In short (and this is a short), it’s a fantastically unique place. Somehow totally American, yet entirely foreign at once. Its peculiarity is one that’s hard to pin down in words, and for that I’ll elect to not ramble as long as I normally would in favor of letting you scroll back up to live vicariously through the photos. So please, enjoy this virtual vacation to Miami through the lens of my Pentax just one month ago, when a carefree weekend in the Florida sun seemed a completely normal thing to enjoy.

May we all dwell on the bright moments we’ve already enjoyed and look forward to the many more we’ll have when our world returns to normal.

Stay safe and keep reading,

Fletcher