day at the beach...

While our bosses did the legal leg work to make us legal to ride in Florida, work that should have been done months ago, we went to the beach. Sand Key beach, on the Gulf Coast, was beautiful. The temperatures were in the mid-70s, the water was cold, but not cold enough to keep the braver souls out. I swam, hunted for treasures along the surf, and drank beer in the sun. my neck and legs got a pleasant sunburn; the fresh air did us all some good.

We were called in by our bosses in the early evening for an update of our situation. Tampa is off limits to us. The police, they say, are prepared to arrest cabbies and impound their bikes. there is a lengthy (several days at least) and invasive background check/licensing process that, if we were qualified, we would be able to work in Ybor city (an area that is 3 x 9 blocks). Another option is to purchase permits to work in St. Petersberg ($3,000) and work adjacent to where all the action and money is. barring these two choices, we could return home.

Most of us need to at least make money for rent on our apartments back home, and there is a general agreement that working in the sunshine is better than working in the wintery northlands. The Ybor city thing seems to me to be a waste of time. The small area open to us is full of trendy bars and shops, but will probably be patrolled by a small army of traveling rickshaws. We set off to investigate St. Pete, to get the lay of the terrain and to see the nightlife (on a sunday, mind, but nevertheless). The town is very posh, easy to navigate and right on the Bay. 

So St. Pete it is. we are going to try to eek out some cash and hope that the Superbowl doesn't drain the city of people.