The Biscayne Times

May 30th
Two Days, One Night PDF Print E-mail
Written by Stuart Sheldon, BT Contributor   
April 2019

A quick staycay is the perfect parental Rx

APix_FamilyMatters_4-19re you hip to the staycation? Imagine driving 15 minutes from home, checking into a groovy hotel, and pretending you’re living a faraway exotic fantasy. The best part … you don’t tell a soul. It’s doable. We did it.

Miami and the Beach together sport more sexy boutique hotels than there are grains of sand on the Cote d’Azur. Each comes equipped with a private, bean-shaped pool engulfed by coconut palms and a server standing ready to bring fresh fruit platters and pitchers of sangria. All this just minutes from your laundry room.

It doesn’t even have to break the bank. Options exist up and down the price scale, though I say, with all the BS you put up with day-to-day, you deserve to go all out -- stay a few nights.

But there’s no shame in doing it on the cheap. The secret to keeping it reasonable is arriving in the morning and staying one night and the entire next day. You can check your bags, so no matter if your room isn’t ready. You can even bring a picnic basket of your own treats to enjoy poolside or at the beach. Just because you’re living like a rock star doesn’t mean your need to pay $18 for olives.

Once you’re there, switch off your mind and spend every bit of both days lying back and soaking in the actual magic of the Magic City. With your little ones safely parked at Grandma’s, you can splash like toddlers in our delicious turquoise waters. Smooch on the sand bars. Sprawl poolside reading that fabulous book you’ve neglected. Write an actual letter to your bestie on the other side of the country. Walk and walk and walk on the beach with no one waiting for you to rush back and get dinner ready. Then, when you’re spent, head back to your lovely room that nobody knows about and watch movies in bed.

For the price of one hotel room night, you can enjoy 36 hours like the Dos Equis guy in the Most Interesting Man in the World commercials. Turn your phone off, and order shrimp cocktail from room service -- for breakfast.

I’m not here to recommend specific hotels. There are just too many, and Trip Advisor has a lovely algorithm that will do you much better. My wife and I spent a luxe weekend at the W Hotel South Beach. Like virtually all of the 305’s hipster hotels, the W oozes fabulosity. Basquiats and Warhols grace the lobby. Ferraris litter the valet zone. Urbane business tycoons in bespoke suits with no ties bounce fluidly between Italian and English on their smartphones.

But it’s not just gloss. The bedding is amazing. It’s as if they scientifically captured the softness molecules of every newborn tushy in town and had them inserted into the linen and pillows. Lazy mornings and mommy/daddy snuggle time never felt so good.

Of course, it’s all unapologetically overpriced. And while the $28 bacon and eggs raised my eyebrows, I work damn hard, so back off -- and bring me another mojito while you’re gone.

Actually, I’m a bourbon guy, but the hysterically trendy poolside situation at each of these places absolutely mandates at least one piña colada. I could not have been happier wading aimlessly with my fruity drink and its darling little umbrella, my beautiful wife by my side, in the shallow end of the epic pool, while tatted up bridesmaids and best men imbibed their own fruity libations, looking as if they walked out of Lil Wayne’s latest video shoot.

Bottom line: We live in one of the world’s ultimate sensual holiday spots. Everything is designed to be fun for grownups and uber easy on our eyes. But like New Yorkers who’ve never been to the Statue of Liberty, so many of us fail to indulge in our own home-brewed decadent hospitality.

I was recently invited to chill beachside with friends at the Faena and started laughing when a uniformed dude right out of Bollywood casting walked over with a fancy copper pitcher and asked if I wanted the sand cleaned off my feet. Hell yes, I told him. I mean, who wants to eat a $20 vegan falafel sandwich with sandy feet?

But seriously, I’ve dipped my sandy toes into all but one of the Seven Seas, and our slice of the Atlantic is a true standout, all the more if you’re on a secret, black-ops, need-to-know-only-basis staycation with your honey and no kids. We all have one night to spare. All you need to do is clear both days on either side, pick your price point, spread your towel, and start gulping complimentary water with cucumbers. You’re welcome!


Stuart Sheldon is an award-winning artist, author, and Miami native. Follow him on Facebook, Instagram @stuart_sheldon, and his blog at


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