*In effort to shorten too-long post, have omitted pronouns, but is still bloody long*
Day 1: Fly to JFK. Yay, direct flight, no jet lag. Meet
hiroquita, who has just flown in from Tokyo. Catch shuttle to hotel. Ride in circles for hour while shuttle stops at each and every one of JFK's 9 terminals. Finally, arrive at lovely Sheraton.
Flirt with bellcap and get express check-in. Take express elevator to 31st floor. Pop ears.
Squeal in delight at big fluffy bed and promptly collapse.
Start thinking about dinner. Come to conclusion could really go for some Moroccan fare. Consult guidebook. Find:
Marseille.
Arrive in time to snag last free table.
Choose lamb tangine with couscous -- ordering identical dinners will come to be running theme during trip.
Totter back to hotel. End Day 1.
Day 2: Venture out with map and vague list of shopping destinations.
Is raining. Have one very small umbrella.
Head over to garment district to replenish stock of necklace chains at jewelry supply store.
Into pouring rain again. Why did choose to wear sandals today? Jeans are sopping wet and dragging on ground. Spy Forever 21 -- will just pop in and buy pair of leggings and be dry again. But, as long as am there, why not try on some jumpsuits and dresses and blouses... Hour later, time to find lunch. Anywhere will do, so long as has roof and place to sit.
A proper bagel (really is better in NY) and vanilla egg cream. So yum. But oh,
stomachache. Maybe egg cream was mistake?
Rain stops. Fortified, navigate towards Chelsea, in search of
Sabon.
Residential sidestreets are elegant and quiet.
Am now desperate for drugstore carrying anything to alleviate stomache-pain, but no luck here -- only herbs and vitamins and one very large feline proprietor.
Like it here. Markets and flower stands and small businesses. Also, psychics. Why so many psychics, NYC? As saying goes, cannot swing cat without hitting one -- no matter which neighborhood am in.
Trek trek trek. Don't even know where we are anymore. But building looks familiar.
This too.
Walk back to hotel through haze of pain. Feet broken. Will never wear these sandals again. Doubt will ever walk again.
But... hungry.
Fling sandals into suitcase. Slip on ballet flats. Maybe can shuffle along for a few blocks.
We are on quest for pho and luckily find Vietnamese restaurant within minutes.
Is not quite pho, as noodles are not same, and there is noticeable lack of coriander, despite "coriander" being listed on menu as key ingredient.
Trio at next table are chatty bunch and man encourages us to order lychee cocktail. He pronounces it, "lee-chee". There is tense moment when I say, "the
lie-chee cocktail?" He nods. "Yes, the
lee-chee cocktail". Who is right?
On way home am overcome with chocolate craving. Fortunately encounter giant store devoted to Hershey's products.
Curl up in big comfy bed with cups of hot cocoa. End Day 2.
Day 3: Is it? Can it be? Sunlight?
Perfect day to take walk in:
Stroll leisurely.
La la la.
Note pretty hairclip present from hiroquita. Is exact same shade of vibrant grass green as dress just happened to throw in suitcase at last minute. Synchronicity is brilliant.
Hungry again. Wander Upper West Side in search of lunch.
Everything elegant here.
Except perhaps for:
Who is jovial indeed. Insists we take picture. Demands it be subtitled "Hardest Working Man in New York". Gives me two finger salute but in spirit of Peace rather than rude British gesture.
Lunch at Italian outdoor ristorante is followed by ill-advised visit to:
Looks charming enough. Cheery, bright, pastel, nonthreatening.
One is thoroughly unprepared for:
EXTREME SUGAR COMA
Got exactly this far through red velvet whipped vanilla frosting cupcake before died sugary death.
Stumbling outside, gulping fresh air, was almost tempted to throw self down Gaping Hole of Doom to put end to onslaught of sweetness.
But somehow lived to return to beloved hotel room and crash for rest of afternoon.
zzzzzzzzz........
But is last day in NYC. Must see more! Get out map...
Figure out we are just around corner from:
Ooh, NBC peacock filled entirely with M&Ms (or are they Skittles?)
Trudge along to Restaurant Row where we come to unanimous decision that tonight we want Sushi. Commence to order identical dinner #3. Tricky moment when Japanese waiter addresses us in English -- how to respond? Stick with English until gradually he catches on and we switch languages. Experience weird sensation that am back in Tokyo.
Am besotted with tea cup adorned with visages of past and present sumo yokozunas (top ranking wrestlers). Want to abscond with cup in purse but is no go.
End Day 3.
Day 4: Last day. Time only for breakfast at
Sarabeth's.
Indulge in fluffy lemon ricotta pancakes and bottomless cup of coffee.
Time to check out and catch shuttle back to JFK. Last fleeting glance. Leave with knowledge that have barely glimpsed what city has to offer. But is good that way. Will visit again someday.
Cannot end epic post without big Thank You to fabulous travel companion. Was very lucky to have roommate who made excellent coffee each morning and could provide for any and every possible eventuality from within large black suitcase (contact lens case? check. powder for indigestion? check. heating strips for aching feet? check. -- is uncanny, really).
Was completely grand mini-trip! What's next?
