On the stretch of Miami known as Little Havana, huge plumes of smoke billow out from a cigar shop. Inside, some of the regulars are sat round a couple of tables playing card games and dominoes.
They share a look of total bemusement as a man enters, wearing only a kilt on his lower half and a traffic cone on his head. On his chest, bare and beyond salvation, one imagines you could fry an egg.
The main strip is known locally as Calle Ocho and is the beating heart of the city’s Cuban culture. Surrounded by smoke, another Scotland fan emerges from the cigar shop like a contestant on Stars in Their Eyes.
‘Tonight, Matthew, I’m going to be…’ The man was suitably refreshed and probably believed he could have been prime Freddie Mercury. Or Pele.
Outside, Allaster McKallaster, the Scottish spoof commentator, is being swarmed by fans and fielding interview requests from American journalists. He is wearing his customary wig, sideburns and tartan tie.
Scotland supporters sing their songs on the way to see the Miami Marlins baseball team
Diego Maradona’s name rings out to the tune of the Hokey Cokey. The smooth rhythm of Latin music normally found on these streets has changed and the locals don’t quite know what to make of it all.
There is no animosity or resentment, just cultural coalescing. Outside The Ball and Chain bar, police officers pose for pictures with supporters as they begin to close the main road.
There is a huge mural of Lionel Messi on one of the walls wearing his Inter Miami kit. It is here where the sound of the bagpipes signals the start of the march.
As was the case in Boston last week, Scotland fans have decided that they fancy taking in a baseball match. Thousands of them line the street and begin their journey out to LoanDepot Park, home of the Miami Marlins.
It is 4pm local time on Monday afternoon. The temperature has soared to 36 degrees Celsius and the humidity is off the charts.
Scotland fans haven’t sweated this much since Patrick Dorgu equalised for Denmark with ten minutes to play at Hampden last November.
Injured Scotland midfielder BIlly Gilmour throws a ceremonial first pitch before the Marlins take on the Texas Rangers
By the time they reach the stadium, the party is far from over. A huge fanzone has been created and a DJ is booming out some Baccara.
Nick Morgan, the Ayrshire musician whose No Scotland No Party song has become such a smash-hit among the Tartan Army, has the place bouncing when he performs a live set.
Before the game begins, with the Marlins taking on the Texas Rangers, there is more Scottish involvement as a diminutive figure wearing a knee brace hobbles out to the middle of the field.
It is Billy Gilmour. Wearing a Marlins jersey with Gilmour 8 on the back, Oor Billy has the honour of throwing the first pitch.
The Scotland midfielder, who was cruelly ruled out of the tournament due to injury the day before the squad flew to America, is given a rapturous ovation from the thousands of Tartan Army inside the stadium.
Given the mutual love-in between Scotland fans and the city of Boston, there had been a feeling that things could be different in Miami.
A slight sense of apprehension that, culturally, they may not have been quite as well received. But those fears have proven to be unfounded thus far.
The wider impact that Scotland fans have had on this World Cup extends beyond the two cities which have hosted their three group-stages matches.
Passing through Newark Liberty International Airport last weekend, one lady in a coffee shop picks up on the Scottish accent when Daily Mail Sport orders a flat white.
The Tartan Army mingle with Brazil supporters at Miami Beach
‘The Scotland fans – wow! – they’ve been incredible in Boston,’ she says. There is a deeper resonance to what Scotland fans have brought to this tournament.
In a city known as America’s most flamboyant playground, where the roar of Ferraris and Lamborghinis echo through the streets, the Tartan Army are revelling in the madness of it all.
It feels like in the sunshine state, South Beach has become an unlikely annex of Mount Florida. Somewhere amidst the neon glow of a skyline and the ghost of Tony Montana’s empire, a Scottish dream burns bright.
A dream that Steve Clarke’s men can defy the odds against Brazil and claim the point they need to guarantee progression to the knockout stages of this World Cup.
The Brazilians are here too, of course. They always are. Yellow shirts swarm the streets and move around with the casual swagger of five-time champions.
The Brazilians move with the confidence of serial winners, whereas the Scots move with the joyous desperation of men who know the party might well end tomorrow.
At night, the scene shifts to South Beach. The Versace Mansion glows like a gem in a crown, with the skyline dazzling at every turn.
The bartenders are doing their best to expand their lexicon. One waitress, sporting a France top with Mbappe on the back, is receiving a lesson in Scottish.
One of her instructors is from Fife and profers: ‘Nae bother – it’s just our way of saying no problem, it’s all good, ken?’
Upon receipt of their bill for their meal, a group of Scots are horrified to learn of the local taxation system and, more specifically, the South Beach tax.
Restaurants in the area charge a premium purely for the privilege of dining on Miami’s most iconic strip.
But all is forgotten quickly enough. With Norway versus Senegal on TV in the background, a line forms spontaneously.
One that combines Scottish dancing, Brazilian samba footwork, and everything else in between.
A woman in a tiny Brazil bikini and a tattooed man in a kilt are attempting to teach each other some moves. Language barriers dissolve in alcohol and goodwill.
In a World Cup dispatch back in the 1970s, the great Hugh McIlvanney once wrote of Brazil that so much on the Copacabana bounces more entrancingly than any football.
The Tartan Army march along Miami Beach ahead of Wednesday’s game against Brazil
The same would undeniably be true of South Beach in Miami. Clothes are optional, but a desire to have a party is mandatory.
It is a remit that the Tartan Army has been only too happy to fulfil over these past few days.
In a way, Miami suits the Scots perfectly. Both have a reputation for wild living, excess, and colourful history.
Both understand the power of myth, the power of neon and noise – whether it’s Scarface’s Miami or Ally MacLeod’s Argentina ‘78.
Today, these supporters will march out to the Hard Rock stadium, sunburnt, hungover, and utterly convinced.
They will sing until their voices crack. Win, lose or draw, the party will continue. This lot are not ready to go home. Not yet.
