Ditch the car and hit the streets in the heart of the Magic City
For the first two months of 2012, I’ve set my sights on exploring downtown Miami. I’m something of a philistine when it comes to appreciating this area. In 2008 I slipped out of a contract at Loft II on NE 2nd Street, and finally landed about 25 blocks north in Edgewater.
This was when condos were rising but only a few decent shops and restaurants had taken a gamble on a new downtown. Today it still feels torn between grime and glitz, like so many neighborhoods on this side of the bay, but on a Saturday jaunt through our central grid, I found myself surprised by what I found.
To begin, I had to do this right: I ditched my car in front of the Wolfson Campus of Miami-Dade College and committed to an afternoon of public transportation and walking. this was, sad to say, a novelty. In six years, I’ve never set foot on a bus, train or the Metromover. It was only when I bought a bike that I began noticing everything I missed by car.
On my walk to the Metromover stop in the cut-out base of Loft II, I bumped into old friends and their new baby. this set a nice tone for the afternoon, one of hope that the new downtown fostered a normal, crack-free urban lifestyle.
On the platform, I pored over a map but couldn’t make heads or tails of it (I’m notoriously bad with directions). A crow flew by carrying an entire tostone in its beak. I smiled and hopped aboard the Metromover with a tourist’s enthusiasm. Of course I was excited; I had no idea where I was going.
I went north, apparently, and got off at NE 11th Street. Sandwiched between two of the city’s largest, most exclusive condo towers is Miami Pawn. I’d never been to a pawnshop and it was time to change that.
To my left and right, I could see untold millions in wealth; directly behind and in front of me were fear, poverty, crime, violence, and addiction. this city juxtaposes extreme inequities like few others.
The interior of a pawnshop isn’t the sleazy, suspicious place you see in movies. It’s more like a high-end Salvation Army, that same moth-ridden stench swirling around its unwillingly donated merchandise. I bookmarked a few pieces of DJ gear and hopped back on the Metromover.
For a guy who never really goes downtown, I ended up there a lot in December. The night before this little adventure, I went to Bahía, the seventh-floor poolside lounge at the Four Seasons. but like those towering medieval walls I remember from Oxford, which open onto serene, manicured private quads, the exquisite side of downtown lives behind closed doors — or in the case of the Four Seasons, up in the air, where location becomes meaningless.
The sounds, smells, and sights of downtown are livelier from the ground: shimmering new towers, historic office buildings, less-than-historic jewelry malls, reams of watch emporiums, musty shops stacked ceiling-high with cheap shoes, speed-walking businesspeople passing slow-walking vagrants.
It’s truly buzzing with life — and flavors! Soya y Pomodoro and Fratelli Milano serve authentic, mouth-watering Italian; the 24-hour Manolo & Rene Cafetería is a must-have late-night munching experience; Cvi.Che 105 is ceviche like you’ve never seen — and the list goes on.
I found some real gems on my walk. Shoe Gallery, at 244 NE 1st Ave., is a funky cultural hybrid: skateboarding meets hip-hop meets indie, and it’s stocked with some of the coolest shoes and threads I’ve seen in Miami. after my visit there, I had lunch at Bryan in the Kitchen, at 104 NE 2nd Ave. The charming café/bakery was bustling on this sunny afternoon, no doubt with people who’d moved downtown in just the past few years.
Bryan serves delicious, well-priced food worth waiting for, and I was happy to see cupcakes — a confectionery harbinger of the neighborhood’s rising fortunes.
I would have gone further on the Metromover but the truth is I couldn’t figure it out. That says more about me than our public transit systems, but like many people, I haven’t had to learn.
Unlike in new York or San Francisco, driving in Miami is practical and convenient. but imagine a water taxi along the coast of Biscayne Bay from the Upper Eastside to Coconut Grove, or a ferry to Miami Beach. I think people in Miami would eat this up.
Despite the schizophrenic mix reflected in its businesses and populace, downtown Miami is getting better and better. Going around without a car isn’t ideal but it’s certainly possible, and I’ll probably do it again sometime — probably by bike. Downtown still has a bad reputation, so if you haven’t been there in a while, check out MiamiDDA.com for some tips on where to begin.
For those of you not entirely convinced, perhaps I can entice you with next month’s column: an exploration of its historic architecture.
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