I Would Love Nothing More Than to Publish Photos of Our Trip to Miami

April 26, 2009 § Leave a comment

However, on our last night in town, at approximately 1:30 a.m., I decided it was a perfect time to take a dip in Hotel Victor’s pool. Scott took my photo. We then had a glass of wine on the patio of our room (which opened out to the pool) and we left the camera outside.

The next morning, it was gone, no sign of it at the front desk, not a peep about it in response to our ad on Craigslist, nada.

I am slightly bitter, slightly trying not to dwell.

There were some great photos.

There was one of Scott and me at the Delano, at an outside patio where we huddled during a sudden, unexpected downpour on our first night there. Later in the night, there are photos of us in the pitch-black dark of the Delano lobby – power in the entire hotel was out, the bartender told us, for the first time in 11 years. And could he comp us a drink, because he had to calculate our tab and charge our credit card by hand, and that was going to take a bit longer?

There were photos of two cats, of course, who we met while walking just off Lincoln Mall Road; they were actually not very cute cats, and I won’t miss those photos very much (one was sleeping on a patio table, another was mewing angrily at me), but I will miss the one from later that day, the one where we tried to make serious faces in the hotel room mirror before we went out to dinner, but just ended up laughing at ourselves.

The photos I will miss the most of all are from our third and fourth days there – ones of Scott on the beach, and later, ones of Scott posing underwater in the swimming pool at Hotel Albion, which has portholes where peeping Merediths can take snapshots. In one of those, he’s underwater, pointing at the camera, and in another he’s flexing; and later on there is a photo of him kneeling in front of a Ferrari Enzo, like he’s on the cover of some ridiculous rap album (that whole series had so much Facebook-profile-photo potential that will sadly go unfulfilled). There were photos of the chorizo, pepper and goat cheese omelette I ate for breakfast at the Tides (so damn good), photos of us beneath the Hotel Victor sign (so damn touristy), photos of topless European women sunbathing on the beach (just kidding, those are etched forever in my brain … and not in a good way). The camera I can live without, the photos I’ll probably be bummed about forever.

On the bright side, though, losing the camera forced us to fetch scraps of paper and pen, and remember our trip a different way. We sat at the Tides for a second morning and, day-by-day, jotted down our favorite moments of the trip. In the end, we don’t have any photos except this crappy cell phone one, but, I guess, in the end, I can live with that.
(As long as whoever made off with our camera gets herpes.)

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