Monday we went to South Beach, rather than to other natural beaches nearby. South Beach is like no where else in the world, with its hot beating sun and beautiful people. We parked on tenth street and my short denim skirt was blown up by the wind, and we walked onto Ocean Drive. Ocean Drive is dotted with expensive boutiques, chic restaurants with crisp linen tablecloths and bored, lanky women in designer sunglasses sipping cool drinks, decadent bars and clubs where girls in animal print bikinis welcome men in with a wink and red lipstick and dance on tables, and the inevitable tourists asking for directions. The ocean spray is heavy in the air, people jostle for space on the sidewalk, and the beach is merely a place to reveal tanned bodies and clothes dripping with money.

The sand is white, like sugar, and white umbrellas stand upright over smooth blue chairs. Women lie here, usually topless, accompanied by heavy makeup and a rich man. The sea is half empty - alomst everyone is eager to sunbathe and seem as attractive as possible, which cannot be accomplished through windswept hair and salt and water. We spread our towels out by the shore and stretch under the sun. There are German tourits behind us. Towards the left are two casually topless women in their mid twenties, one reading, the other squinting towards the light.

The sea is cool, the water clear and with bars of golden sun on the green waves.