For a bus trip that only takes about 5 hours, Orlando to Miami was one of the biggest emotional turmoils of the entire trip. Firstly, we were supposed to fly out of Miami on the 20th of Jan, Gyna in her infinite wisdom booked the tickets for the 19th, giving us approximately 12 hours in Miami. Mistakes happen, I can grudgingly accept that. What I struggled to accept was us getting to the Greyhound station on the 18th only to discover that she'd also booked the bus tickets for the night of the 19th. This was after my run in with security on entrance to the station- luckily we were able to change the tickets to the 18th for $15 a ticket, or someone would have been getting a punch in the farking head.
"Security run in!?" I hear you asking. Yes, security run in. So I've mosey-ed on into the station carrying all my s*** (and struggling, might I add) and this random customs/security dude (never seen one in a Greyhound station before) has told me to put my stuff down. So I did. Then he asks me if I have any alcohol with me. I thought about lying for a second, but honesty prevailed and I said yes.
Now I've been carrying two bottles of ice wine around with me in my backpack since Toronto to take home for my Dad. It's been the most awkward, cumbersome thing in the world to transport and I'm SO close to going home, and security dude tells me I can't take it on the bus with me, even though it's in my checked luggage and I've never had a problem with it before, even carrying it across US/Canadian borders and on planes. When he told me I couldn't take it with me I just kind of lost it, I didn't know what to do so I just stood there and stared blankly at him for about 5 minute while he stared me down. I had no intention of getting rid of it, but I also had no idea what else to do with it. I tried to compose myself and explained to him that I wasn't going to drink it and that I wasn't going to get rid of it. I must have either looked like I was going to beat him over the head, or cry because he told me to step closer to him. Unsure weather he was going to bribe me or sexually assault me, I tentatively inched toward him. This guy was an absolute legend in the end because I guess he sort of layed his job on the line a bit by letting me take it on the bus when he'd questioned me in front the cameras, luckily I hadn't taken it out or I'd never have gotten away with it. But all that drama aside, we finally got on the bus. Which was ridiculously full. Seriously, if I NEVER have to catch a Greyhound bus again I will be elated, it's bogan/dero central on there.
But the fun didn't end with security.
A couple of hours into the ride, the brakes have slammed on and lights have come on while we're in the middle of nowhere. I turn to Georgina and give her a "wtf" face. She signalled for me to take my headphones out, which I did, and I hear this groaning noise which I could not work out. Apparently a woman near the front of the bus had been screaming in pain for about half an hour. I totally didn't notice, but we ended up having to pull over in a petrol station, call an ambulance which took about half an hour to get this totally overweight woman with chest pains off the bus. She was also apparently foaming at the mouth which I'm totally glad I missed, and to be honest I'd be fairly shocked if she made it through the night (as bad as that sounds). The ambulance took ages to come because they wanted really specific information on what was wrong with her but she didn't speak English. Serious, serious nightmare.
Shockingly enough, we eventually made it to Miami at about 2am and caught a cab to the airport, slept through the next three hours when I got up to float to the ladies to get changed. I've opened my backpack and can't work out what the fruity smell is, only to find that my hair mousse has exploded all over everything. Fark my life. It took me about an hour to clean and at this stage I was just totally over the whole thing, but George was really excited about the prospect of Miami, so we checked our baggage and floated on out to South Beach for like.. 3 hours.
Miami would have been a really cool place to stay a while longer, especially in summer. George loved it. I liked it, but I've been places that I've liked a lot more. The beach itself wasn't the most impressive beach I've ever seen by far, but Ocean Drive had some awesome looking clubs and restaurants. So the trip down there in my opinion wasn't worth the headache that it caused- but we did manage to survive the trip. Tune in for more amusing adventures with booking Chicago hostels...