This is a place that grows on you, and I have to say that that's in spite of all: in spite of the traffic, the overbuilt and half-empty malls, the showy huge yachts and the total lack, at least in the neighborhood of this convention hotel, of public waterside space, or in fact public space at all. I had to sneak into a private boatyard to find a place to drink my morning tea. Though I must admit no one else was ever there in the morning and I wasn't run off.

But the weather. Screw with this planet as we might, we haven't destroyed everything yet. Spring here -- and I've only ever been here in spring, never summer when it's 95 and 95% humidity -- is sharp and clear and dry and warm. The sky seems higher than the sky at home, the sun is white, the breeze is soft. It feels welcoming, inviting. In my rapidly advancing old age, I'm beginning to get the tropics.