A local’s take on which South Florida city is the perfect destination
Florida needs a full-time therapist – and that’s the understatement of the year. To what degree? Well, there’s a saying: the further North you go, the more Southern you get.
Florida has a bizarre energy. Every county’s a country. And every street’s a microcosm. Every island is its own radio station. Let’s put it this way: Cassadaga, up North, is known as the Psychic Capital of the World. Key West, way down South, has Fantasy Fest, zombie bike rides, a doll that inspired Chucky and also a CIA station disguised as a beach bar.
Vernon? Nicknamed Nub City, thanks to residents scamming insurance companies out of millions via “accidental” amputations. Boca Raton? Home to actual wiseguys. Yeah, like “The Sopranos.” Turns out mafia dons and bagmen like to retire near golf courses.
Florida also has the Guy Bradley Visitor Center, where massive swarms of mosquitoes ambush tourists like a scene from “Apocalypse Now” and a road so desolate, so alien, that Al Capone used it to stash his contraband and parties. The gators now walk it like they own stock. And there’s a missile silo in the middle of nowhere.
Tampa is somehow both the rollercoaster capital and the strip club capital of the world. Orange County? Has a bar called The Last Resort, where a serial killer picked up victims. Their actual motto: “Home of Ice Cold Beer and Killer Women.” We have St. Augustine, home to the oldest fort in the U.S. – just an hour away from Mickey Mouse’s kingdom.
You can also find an established Amish community – in this heat, no less. A place called Sanibel, a.k.a. “CIA Island Retirement Community,” where ex-agents go to write their memoirs and eat coconut shrimp while reminiscing on their kill list. And a town where 90% of the population was arrested in one giant sting, for narcotics trafficking. Interestingly, all these places are within 20 minutes to an hour of each other.
Which is better, Fort Lauderdale or Miami?
So when someone asks me which is better: Miami or Fort Lauderdale, I usually answer with: “Depends. What flavor of weird are you into?” Comparing the two certainly isn’t apples to oranges. It’s more like apples to radioactive Twinkies. There’s no “versus” here. No contest. These cities aren’t even in the same zoological classification.
But still, you’re here. You’re curious. And you demand a breakdown. Let’s talk Miami vs. Fort Lauderdale, and why picking one over the other is less about what you want and more about what you’re ready for. Oh, and did I mention the sharks just off the bay?
The score card – Fort Lauderdale or Miami
The vibe check
Miami is a fever dream with a Latin heartbeat and a god complex. It’s akin to the Devil and God deciding to patch things up and go on a road trip. One morning, they wake up in a fleabag motel covered in glitter, with an ice cream cone inflatable, and one of them looking at their reflection in the mirror and wondering “why did I get a penguin tattooed on my forehead?”
It’s swagger, flash, basslines, and that constant feeling you’re either being watched by a celebrity or stalked by a python in a Gucci belt. It’s loud. Proud. Off it’s rocker. And every street corner has a different DSM classification. Chronically over caffeinated. With all types of issues and hangups. It has no chill – but by design.
Fort Lauderdale is Miami’s tanned, boat-obsessed cousin who used to party but now just wants a solid brunch and a reliable parking space. It’s the one that went to AA meetings after a rather bad weekend and is now just happy collecting chips. It’s more “glass of chardonnay at sunset” than “Mexico’s worse in the trunk at sunrise.” Basically, it’s yacht rock, not reggaeton.
The aerial view of Miami South Beach during busy Summer season (photo by virsuziglis/iStockphoto.com)
The crowds
Miami is packed. Always. With tourists, influencers pretending to be tourists, spring breakers, digital nomads and at least one guy who’s been “launching his NFT” since 2020.
It’s a free-for-all — everywhere. Malls that look like YouTube videos from New Delhi during rush hours. Beach walkabouts and boardwalks that are akin to packed runway shows in Milan. If you don’t like lines, traffic, or loud conversations about everything. Go someplace else. Miami is where you come to be seen, be heard, and be part of the conversation – no matter how wacky it is.
Fort Lauderdale has people too, sure. But you can breathe. The average demographic goes into older, wealthier and less likely to start a bar fight at 2 a.m. Great for families. And also great for people who like space. Great for folks who enjoy the beach without also hearing a TikTok being filmed behind them.
The nightlife
Miami has nightlife that doesn’t just go all night, it ignores time entirely. It has its own time bubble. Clubs in Brickell and Wynwood don’t get started until after 1 a.m. DJs have residencies longer than some marriages. You’ll pay $27 for a cocktail and enjoy it through a fog of strobe lights and existential anguish. If you don’t want to party, don’t even look at South Beach after dark. You might get absorbed by the collective rave.
This all happens 24/7. We have bars next to Starbucks which offer 2 for 1 deals on their fare if you come in before 10 in the morning. We have boats that leave every morning just to party in the surf. When Miami gets a hurricane, you know what happens? We have hurricane parties. That’s right, we go out to actual venues and let our freak flag out while outside the end of the world is on a loop.
Fort Lauderdale has nightlife too – just earlier, quieter, and often with a happy hour. Bars close before your grandmother gets worried. You can still dance, but no one’s filming it for clout. This is where you go when you want to drink and remember it the next day.
The beach scene
Miami’s beaches are legendary. They’re also stuffed to the gills, performative and patrolled by an army of yahoos with ring lights and perfect tans. If you like energy, eye candy, and spending $50 on a coconut drink – this is your arena. Just expect to walk a half mile in soft sand while dodging volleyball bros and seagulls out for blood.
But it’s amazing. Why? Because you feel like you’re in a music video. Each place is just that, a scene filmed by Micheal Bay. I have no idea how the Chamber Of Commerce manages for the Sun to give us that cool filtered amber effect – with sweating bodies right out of a Sports Illustrated.
Fort Lauderdale’s beaches? Relaxed. Clean. Accessible. You can park close to the sand. You can read a book without hearing someone’s yacht playlist. And you can wear flip-flops unironically without being judged by someone in Balenciaga crocs. It’s a place to sit back and let the worries drain. A place to look at your beer belly and feel like you earned it – not as a badge of shame.
The weird factor
Miami is weird in a cosmopolitan, end-of-the-world kind of way. It’s far-fetched to the degree where you know, that before everyone leaves the house, they are making a concerted effort to be outlandish. It’s basically every peacock in the region trying to show off their feathers better than their peers.
Iguanas fall from trees. Santería ceremonies happen in public parks. You might see a Bentley with a bullet hole and no one even blinks. It’s not just unpredictable – it’s a spiritual test that puts under the magnifying glass your ability to suspend your belief.
Fort Lauderdale is weird in a more Florida Suburbia Noir kind of way. Retirees with three pet pugs. HOA presidents with bunker energy. Street corner deals that somehow involve golf carts. It’s low-key strange. Think David Lynch at a Jimmy Buffett concert.
Pick your poison
Flipping the coin between Miami and Fort Lauderdale is like tossing into the air two different currencies each with 10 sides and a whole lot of scratching your head afterwards. It’s about what kind of offbeat you’re in the mood for.
Miami is homemade fireworks with gunpowder and jet fuel, and full-body confusion. Fort Lauderdale is a top-notch wine spritzer and a nap. One is a music video. The other is a soft-focus rom-com.
The good news? They’re only 30 minutes apart. The better news? You can hit both in one trip. Just know what you’re getting into, hydrate like you’re in a desert, and never – ever – talk to a guy offering “VIP jet ski access” in a parking lot.
My advice? Buy a Yoda Hawaiian shirt, hit the local Publix for supplies and take in Miami. Really take it in. Go to Ocean Drive and let the madness seep into your soul. Once you get tired of it – it’s like going to a Metallica concert, only it lasts 24 hours and you’re next to one of the speakers – pack your bags and go to Fort Lauderdale to unwind.
And when you get tired of that, well, you have the rest of Florida to visit — and boy is it strange, and scary, and amazing.
What do you think? Fort Lauderdale or Miami? Let us know in the comments!
