thursday
Before going to sleep, Eyal and I evaluate the morning's program and decide to skip the morning session to sleep and go to the beach. We learn the important lesson that closing the drapes makes sleeping-in a great deal easier. While the girls eventually filter out to the conference by 8:30, we drag ourselves to the beach for an hour and a half. You might think that going to the beach in the morning is silly, but it worked out to be really perfect. It was a great way to start the day sort of half-sleeping in the sun with some swimming thrown in for good measure.
Even though the sun is pretty tempting, we resist and meet up with the others for the conference. Luckily, I was able to get into the professional development (a.k.a. free lunch!) sessions even though I didn't fax my registration in time. Throughout the day, we coordinate with the rest of the CHRU contingent and have dinner at a Cuban Restaurant. The highlight is good fried things (plantain and yucca), quality mojitos, and the senior people buying all of us dinner. After dinner, several of us walk to Ocean Drive, stop for gelato, and observe the dramatically change in the street scene. Since our morning expedition the streets have filled with people trying to be seen, see, or whatever.
Find a recommended club (Opium), go somewhere else for salsa (Mango's), and settle for live music and horribly expensive drinks elsewhere. My sentimental favorite, though not attended club is The Cleavelander, a place that was apparently built when poolside art deco bars were the cat's pajamas. I really should've taken a picture.
Even though the sun is pretty tempting, we resist and meet up with the others for the conference. Luckily, I was able to get into the professional development (a.k.a. free lunch!) sessions even though I didn't fax my registration in time. Throughout the day, we coordinate with the rest of the CHRU contingent and have dinner at a Cuban Restaurant. The highlight is good fried things (plantain and yucca), quality mojitos, and the senior people buying all of us dinner. After dinner, several of us walk to Ocean Drive, stop for gelato, and observe the dramatically change in the street scene. Since our morning expedition the streets have filled with people trying to be seen, see, or whatever.
Find a recommended club (Opium), go somewhere else for salsa (Mango's), and settle for live music and horribly expensive drinks elsewhere. My sentimental favorite, though not attended club is The Cleavelander, a place that was apparently built when poolside art deco bars were the cat's pajamas. I really should've taken a picture.
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