I grew up in Cooper City, Florida. Somewhere in high school, my friends and I started noticing the Canadians and Northeasterners who came down in December and actually went in the ocean. (In December!) That’s when we started saying it: “We live where you vacation.” We thought it was the coolest thing in the world. We could be on the beach 30 minutes after the last bell, with time to grab a Pub Sub on the way. If it rained, we’d sit in the car and wait it out. It always passed.
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Here's the 60-second version: how a podcast episode turned into Colada in about 8 hours, and the $781 Tel Aviv booking that happened two hours after my first deal went out.
And then I left.
I moved to Maryland (go Terps!), then DC, and became one of those people: thrilled to fly to Miami in February to escape the winter, and making sure to come home for Thanksgiving once the leaves had turned. I got married, had three kids, and got used to life up north. Ski mountains within a day’s drive. Fall leaves changing right outside the window. Hikes every week. New York a train ride away.
Go Terps! University of Maryland days.
But then…
This summer, my husband, our three kids and I did something a little crazy: we moved the whole crew to Miami.
Some days I get to watch the sun rise and set from the beach. Today I walked into the ocean in my clothes, just to cool off after a long morning walk. High school me would approve. So yes, I’m back to living where you vacation. And I’m realizing that even paradise needs a getaway.
Moving home didn’t change how much I love hiking, skiing, and seeing our people up north. And how much I want my kids to experience more than just the beach. And here’s the catch of living in paradise: everyone wants to come here, and getting anywhere else gets expensive fast. Five of us flying north at holiday-panic prices just isn’t an option.
Our youngest’s very first hike.
So I started watching fares. Every day, from MIA, FLL and PBI. And I got a little obsessed. When I spotted a nonstop to Chicago for $57, I thought, why not take my 11-year-old to see the Cubs? But then it was $88 the next morning and I realized I’d need to move quick! And since my husband made me promise we’d take a big family ski trip this year, I’m watching those fares like a hawk.
Left: a Nats game, back when they were our home team. Right: my first time skiing, at 25. Maybe with flight deals I would’ve gone sooner.
That’s Colada. Like the cafecito it’s named after, it’s meant to be shared. I do the fare-stalking, and you get the deals, whether you’re a transplant or a native, flying home to family, chasing snow, or planning a spontaneous trip somewhere new.
Here’s how it works:
Every Tuesday afternoon, you get the best deals I’ve found from South Florida’s three airports, with the dates, the airline, and a link to book.
Only real deals: prices well below normal, nonstop whenever possible. If it isn’t worth your time, I don’t send it.
Plus a heads-up when a can’t-miss fare pops up, like Thanksgiving week to Cincinnati, nonstop, for $98.
Tell me where your people are (and where you’re dreaming of going), and I’ll make sure I’m watching those routes.
Come along with me, and let’s see where we can get to. ☕✈️
Julie
Founder, Colada Flight Deals