Ultra Music Festival Miami

You’re hot, really hot. The air is musty and humid, like when you breathe in someone’s exhaled breath. You’re being squeezed, almost suffocated by the throng of people around you. You slip and stumble between people’s sweaty shoulders as you jostle for position. Your eyes sting from the mix of sunscreen, sweat and dirt smeared on your face. You wouldn’t change a thing.

A beat begins. As you crane your head above the shoulders in front of you, you find a breath of fresh air. Strobe lights blind you and dizzy your senses, you recognise the increasing cadence of the beat, you start to dance. The crowd writhes and twists as the beat surges through their muscles. You look around and see 100,000 people dancing to the same beat, and their energy flows through you like a lifeblood. And then it drops. The sickest beat. The crowd goes absolutely fucking nuts. Fists pump, limbs flail, sweat flies. The crowd jumps as if one, their thumping feet sending billowing clouds of dust in every direction. This is just the first act, there’s a full three days of this to come. Welcome to Ultra Music Festival.

165,000 people, 3 days and the biggest electronic music acts in the world. People from every corner of the globe united in one place, at one time and for one thing. It is truly hard to describe what we have experienced here. To summarise something so momentous into just one or two sentences seems to subtract from its greatness. You really just have to have been here to understand it. All we can say is that if you ever get the chance to experience Ultra Music Festival, do it.

In our short time in Miami we were lucky enough to meet some amazing people by chance. After talking to some guys in our hostel, we decided to journey a half-an-hour cab ride across town to a show that was completely sold out. Hey, we’re optimists. Within two minutes of arriving we out-bid an Asian guy for two of the hottest tickets in town from a scalper to see Above and Beyond…Group Therapy (and we still paid less than face value). Woohoo! We quickly ditched the two annoying guys from our hostel to do our own thing, as they were more interested in themselves than the music or anyone else. Turned out to be a great decision as just before the start of the show, we struck up a conversation with a couple from Austin, Texas. After the weird, obligatory ‘stranger talking to me outside a toilet block’ strangeness, we decided to hang out…or we decided to hang on…either way it worked out. They introduced us to six of their friends who were surprisingly welcoming. We quickly became friends and they were to become our Ultra family for the next four days.

Over the festival we shared everything. A twisted vine tree near the main stage became our meeting place where we could always go if we lost anyone. Act after act, day after day, we laughed, we loved and we partied fucking hard. Danny, Michelle, Eric, Bill, Lauren, Brooke, Casey and RYAN (missing in all our photos), we salute you.

We have since reflected that these relationships exemplify to us why we keep travelling. To meet such an amazing and interesting group of people by chance, and then to learn and grow from them and the shared experiences we had together. It is important to remember that travelling is just as much about the people you meet as it is the places you see...and Miami is one hell of a place.

Miami - A potent mix of money, power, sex, drugs, partying and tourism. This cocktail certainly makes for some interesting times, and is it any wonder it spits out a few crazies? Each corner has its own… from burnt out hippies, black gangsters to raving schizophrenics and the guy you’re buying pizza from at 3am who’s all of the above. Miami’s got it all.

When we arrived at our hostel for the first time at 9am, we literally had to step over the bodies of passed out partiers all over the floor. The bleary eyed guy at the front desk informed us ‘shit’s crazy here’- no kidding. We journeyed to the beach before our 3pm check-in (speaks wonders about the ethos of this hostel) and encountered more passed out bodies on the sand. As the day heated up, girls flocked to the beach wearing what can only be described as a piece of string with a skerrick of cloth covering ….well nothing. Bikini tops? Who needs them.

The city is no different, exhibitionists are everywhere. Ferraris and Lamborghinis cruise the streets, their drivers dressed in all-white attire, one guy even capped it off with a matching white beanie and sunglasses (and it’s 35 degrees).

After our initial disdain at the state of the people on our hostel floor, we quickly realised…if you can’t beat em, join em! The balcony just off the street was a reliable place to meet people of a similar mind-frame. The lobby played blaring house music 24/7 and had a beer fridge at the front desk, one morning they even had a free keg. On our final evening in Miami, we were partaking in said debauchery and giving our livers a final beating with around 20 people on the balcony. When we heard several loud bangs in the alley beside ours, a few people looked up the street but all of us naive Australians decided that it must have been fire-works. Naturally, we continued drinking. It was only when 15 cop cars, sirens blaring, automatic weapons being pulled out of the boot and some cops taking cover behind a dumpster; that we realised it may not have been fireworks.

Now, if something like this happens in Australia, the police shut down the entire offending suburb. In Miami, you can walk through the crime scene with a beer in hand. And that is exactly what was happening. Eventually, when we became a nuisance, the cops calmly unravelled crime scene tape encasing the revellers spilling out of the hostel. Despite the fact that the hostel was still firmly inside the crime scene roped off at the other end of the street. It was probably while we cracked our second beer that the hostel guy popped his head out to mention that we should probably get inside. The last time this happened there was an AK-47 battle on the street and four people got shot. All the Aussies continued with their freshly cracked beers, can’t waste a beer.

When a shooting doesn’t even raise an eyebrow one begins to appreciate the tempo of Miami life (and apparently, death).

Miami and Ultra were one intoxicated whirlwind of experiences like this. Fast-paced, loose and wild. We thrived off atmosphere, and revelled in the sheer exhilaration emanating from the rawness of it all. Miami was incredible. We certainly gave it everything, and if we’re honest with ourselves, have still not fully recovered. If you have ever experienced it, or get the chance to, you will know what we mean.