Sunday is the day Miami itineraries quietly break, and they break for a reason that has nothing to do with the weather. Half of what gets written up here — the small galleries, the independent shops, the kitchens with one chef — keeps short Sunday hours or does not open at all. The other half has a queue in front of it by ten in the morning. And the visitor working from a list assembled on a Tuesday arrives at a shutter, rearranges on the pavement, and loses the best two hours of the day doing it.
The fix is to stop planning Sunday around opening times and plan it around the things that do not have any. The sand has no hours. The beachwalk that runs most of the length of Miami Beach has no hours. The bay has no hours, and Sunday is the day the whole city gets on it — flat and empty at eight in the morning, a rafted-up sandbar party by two in the afternoon, and both of those are worth seeing, depending on which one you came for. The domino tables on Calle Ocho are a neighbourhood institution rather than an attraction, and Sunday is when they are most local and least photographed. The free Metromover runs over downtown and Brickell whether or not anything below it is trading.
Then there are the fixtures that only exist on a Sunday, and they are worth building the morning around. The farmers market along Lincoln Road is a Sunday thing on the island, and it is the one time in the week that a pedestrian street designed for shopping is being used for something else. Brunch here is not a meal, it is a queue with a waiting list attached, and the difference between a good Sunday and a frustrating one is putting your name down before you want the table rather than after.
Sunday also changes how the city moves. The causeways between Miami and Miami Beach are genuinely easy in the morning, which makes Sunday the single best day of the week to cross the bay — a thing this site otherwise spends most of its time telling you to avoid. Then it flips: from about three in the afternoon the returning traffic builds, the airport's departure bank fills, and the northbound run on US-1 from the Keys becomes the most reliably bad drive in south Florida.
So: outdoors and on the water in the morning, something with a roof in the middle, and an evening that is easier to walk into than any other night of the week. What follows is that day, hour by hour, with the things that genuinely will not be open marked as such.