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| TRAVELS WITH MY DINOSAUR 05 June - 05 August 2003 |
| Friday 6th June Well here I m in South Beach on a beautiful clear morning. I did wonder if I would see the sun today - yesterday we descended into Miami International airport through a sulky grey sky, just missing an afternoon rain fall. However, today I am looking out onto a near perfect blue, with just a few fluffy clouds floating here and there. My nine hour flight from Gatwick left on time and arrived several minutes early - perhaps Mr Branson could arrange for his staff in the air to give efficiency tips to their colleagues on the railways! Predictably, the change in air pressure sparked a cluster headache almost the moment we left the ground, which mounted in intensity as we approached a cruising altitude of 39,000 feet. Still, using pre-arranged oxygen throughout the flight kept the pain to manageable levels, and the attentiveness of a superb stewardess helped immensely - Angie, I know you'll be reading this at some point - thank you very much! The flight itself was fairly smooth, with just a little turbulence as we passed close to the Canadian coast at St John's and Halifax, and again near the Carolinas. Other than that, not much to report. The food was unimpressive, but not bad. I asked for assistance at MIA. I didn't really need it - I was in no hurry to be anywhere, and could have found my way with time. However, past experience has taught me that assistance equates with a speedy processing through customs and immigration. MIA proved to be no exception, and whilst my fellow travellers languished in long, agitated queues, I sailed through the entire process in a little over five minutes, experiencing none of the procrastination for which US Immigration personnel are famed. After buying two electricity plug converters from a drug store in the shopping village upstairs, I made my way to the SuperShuttle stop directly outside the airport. The lady issuing boarding passes sat resolutely guarding her post. I suspect her expression was as sullen as the sky outside, but I sympathised with her predicament - the bus and taxi port is a dull, noisy environment, buzzing with the constant cacophony of vehicle engines, horns and other, unseen contributors to a general racket which would drive anyone crazy. SuperShuttle is a convenient way to reach Miami and Miami Beach. The dark blue vans sporting their clearly identifiable yellow logos are spacious people carriers with large and comfortable seats to slid into, inviting after the restrictiveness of a long-haul flight. I fell into conversation with a New Orleans lady, in town for a Public Broadcasting Service convention. On hearing of my approaching stop in her home-town, she was keen to tell me that her son sings in the choir at First Baptist Church of NO - the very church I have noted to visit during my weekend stay. Miami passed us by on either side of the Dolphin Expressway as we headed east to the island of Miami Beach. This is a town in its own right, lying about four miles south east of the main city hub of Miami, There are several approaches to the island, each connecting the small islands of Biscayne Bay to South Beach and the mainland. As we crossed the leaf-shaped Watson Island along the McArthur Causeway, we talked about children's television and the general demise of its quality, save for the enduring Sesame Street. My travelling companion expected that various children's TV characters would appear at the convention to which she was heading, and admitted she was already regressing into childish expectation at the thought of Telly, Elmo and the Cookie Monster. We bade each other farewell at the corner of Washington and Espanola - my stop, directly outside the Clay Hotel. The door to door service of Super Shuttle coast $14 (�8.60). My first on-the-road meeting left me with a positive feeling about the two months lying ahead of me. My room, on the second floor, is neat and clean. I share the bathroom with the occupant of the room next door, and that too is in good order. I have a telephone, television and, most welcome - a fridge (with ice cubes already waiting for me in the freezer compartment). My bed is spacious and comfy, and for just $45 per night, inc. tax, I'm happy. After the long and tiring journey, I didn't do much last night. Took a wonder out to a nearby eatery called the Prima Pasta Caf�, an interesting mix of South American and Italian. Then I came back, made a few calls, sent an email - gosh what a challenge it is to use a computer without Zoom text - then flopped for the night. I'd been wondering what the change in time zones would do to the timing of my cluster headaches, and the answer came at about 4.30am, with a violent shock! I'm not sure if this was just the shock of not having oxygen when I've been used to it at home for so long, or if the change in time zone really made the monster mad, but I'm pretty certain this was the most intense I've known it to be, and I really hope it doesn't continue on such a level. The imigran doesn't work so well as I'd convinced myself it did, and I had to fight quite hard against getting depressed about that this morning. Oh well, I guess if I'm going to have a life, I just have to take it a day at a time and get over each one as it happens, without contemplating the next. So today I woke up properly about 8am, to the blue skies outside, and the busy hum of traffic and people moving along Washington Avenue. As I pottered around the room, making calls and organising myself for the day, the daily maid appeared to vacuum and generally tidy up. She didn't speak English, but we exchanged a few words in Spanish - the legacy of several holidays in the Canaries and Mijas with my family. After my first day in Miami, I'm not sure that English is the official language of this city - the majority of people I met have spoken no English at all, conversing only in their native Spanish or Portuguese. I spent this afternoon in Miami proper, firstly making my way to Bascom Palmer Eye Institute, which is located on the main campus of Miami University Medical School. The trip was easy. With so many warnings about "the long walks" from various people, I had psyched myself up for something of a challenge, but none came - beyond the fact that 9 out of 10 people I asked for directions had no English to speak of! For $1.50 I bought A metro rail transfer card which covered my bus trip from South Beach to Government Centre in Downtown, and on to Civic Centre, in the heart of the hospital district. The journey took about 40 minutes. MetroRail is an elevated railway covering a loop of Downtown Miami. It's fast and efficient, and if I were to be in Miami for longer, I suspect it would be a great orientation tool. I walked from the MR stop to Bascom Palmer with a chatty mama from the Spanish Caribbean. She was visiting the university hospital to have a cast removed from her leg, and was keen to sing the praises of the public hospital , where all patients are treated, regardless of their ability to pay. She said, with great approval, that "the doctors tell you exactly what is wrong and whether or not it can be fixed, but the private hospitals just take your money and then tell you to go away". The US pre-occupation with lawsuits did not escape her attention either, and she seemed to know a vast amount of detail about public hospital liability. We parted ways at the entrance to the eye institute, and she limped on to the pharmacy to collect medication for her teenaged daughter, and then on to the expectant freedom of cast-removal. Bascom Palmer is the only hospital I did not pre-arrange to visit. I wrote to the Retinoblastoma clinic staff to inform them of my visit to Miami, but felt it best to leave the first few days free, not being sure of how the change in time would impact my medications and headaches. As I waited to speak with Dr Tim Murray's secretary, I read a special edition of Images, official magazine of Bascom Palmer, celebrating 40 years of the eye institute. "One dream, one hope, one vision" is the motto of this exceptional establishment - ranked number two (behind Johns Hopkins in Baltimore) in America's list of top ophthalmology centres. Bascom Headon Palmer himself was a young doctor at the forefront of medical research in the early years of the 20th century when he first had the vision for a dedicated eye hospital which would serve the community of southern Florida as "a clearinghouse for research and for reliable, dependable information on care of eyes and conservation of sight". Although he died before his dream was realised, his legacy is great. The institute he founded is now one of the world's authorities on many aspects of eye care and disease prevention/cure. It is also home to one of only five Retinoblastoma specialists in the USA, and I was impressed to see an educational article in the magazine entitled "Awareness Saves Lives", detailing the main signs and symptoms of Rb, and action to be taken if it is suspected. On the wall beside me, a bronze plaque recognised Edward W D Norton as an honorary member of the Ophthalmic Photographers Society, citing his "notable contribution to ophthalmic photography". Dr Norton was one of the "Founding five" members of Bascom Palmer faculty, leading the institute as chairman through the first 30 years of its existence, until his retirement in 1991. After several EUAs and a handful of adult surgeries, Dr Murray had already left the hospital, However, I spoke with Kathryn, his secretary, and Nicole, his Rb clinic co-ordinaror. Nicole had been impressed to see Dino at the recent Rb symposium in Paris, and was pleased I'd taken the time to visit the hospital. After hearing about the children's hospital campaign in Oxford, and the various hospitals I plan to visit in the US, she urged me to pay a visit to Miami Children's whilst I'm here. She didn't think the lack of warning would be too much of an issue. I'll see what I can come up with - I would like to go! Coming out of the hospital, I asked a passer-by to confirm I was headed in the right direction for the Metro-rail, and he enthusiastically informed me that he was going there himself. This delightful man spoke with a soft Caribbean accent, one which has been tempered by some considerable time in America. He was from Jamaica, he told me, and had been in Miami for "OO, quaite ai few yars noo". On hearing my own accent, Owen asked me if I was from "the ol' contry". He returns home maybe once a year, although he's retired now and getting old, he likes to travel while he can. He approved of my trip, and my spirit of adventure, not allowing myself to see my visual impairment as a real barrier to independent travel. When the MR Transfer ticket machine regurgitated my quarter, he offered one of his own, and refused to accept mine in return - "It's an honour to buy your ticket ma'am", he said. The honour was mine indeed, to travel with such a gentleman! I bought a sandwich at Government Centre and ate it whilst waiting for the bus back to SoBe, There are two buses which travle the route between the island and downtown - C and K. C arrived first, so that was the one I caught. It seems to be primarily used by Hispanics, the majority of whom speak no English. I wonder how they cope in America outside their own communities, whether they want to learn English/American, or deliberately choose to converse only in their mother tongue. My smattering of holiday Spanish is not extensive enough to ask such questions, so I sat in silence and watched the city go by. The bus dropped me a block from the corner of Washington and Espanola, but for some reason I became a little disoriented when I stepped outside. I have no idea why, but a quick look around and reference to my little National Geographic Miami & the Keys street map (purchased at Waterstones, Oxford) solved the problem in no time. So, now I am back in my hotel room, and I think I have rambled quite long enough - even by Jana's standards! So, I shall end here. Bye bye. |