i-want-more

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head

The final leg of our journey took us to New York City.

I should preface the following paragraph with this statement: I am not especially finickity, hygiene-wise. Neither am I very tidy. However, there is a difference between a bit untidy and dirty.

Upon arrival at our hotel room, I noticed quite quickly that something wasn’t right. After some inspection of the little kitchenette area of our room, I discovered some mouse droppings on the worktop. Down to reception we went. We couldn’t be moved that evening because the hotel was full, but we were promised a new room the following day. Despondent, we traipsed to the nearest cinema for something to do to get us out of our depressing environs.

On arrival, we made a split-second decision that cost us dearly. Instead of going to see Wolverine, we chose Angels and Demons. I can’t really be bothered to type much more than this about it: utter shit. Ewan MacGregor presumably took a role in it to finance another motorbike ride in some developing countries with that posh idiot mate of his. Pah! As our hotel room was so grim, we weren’t really inclined to walk out. I left the cinema feeling annoyed and disconsolate. The holiday had been going quite well up to this point, could it get any worse?

Thankfully not. Our hotel room was changed, and the rest of the week was blinding.

It was very hot while we were there - that Lovin' Spoonful thing makes total sense.

Fun stuff: we took a three hour boat-trip around Manhattan in the blazing sunshine. This was much more fun than I thought it would be, primarily because we had a very funny and knowledgeable guide. We saw yet more art. We ate a picnic in Central Park in the blazing sunshine. We wandered around Williamsburg, and soaked up the hipster vibes. We went to the Top of the Rock to see the city from 70 floors up.

Some things we did a lot of: thrift store shopping, and eating at the Chipotle Mexican Grill. On the former, we were depressed at not being able to find what we christened Thrifty Street from last time (a run of about five thrift stores somewhere on the Lower West Side). It wasn’t all bad though, as I managed to pick up a red version of the ‘Get dirty for god – go lay a brick/Teen missions’ t-shirt that JJ has in navy blue (from his time in the US 20 years ago). On the latter – I LOVE MEXICAN FOOD. It’s official. If I could eat burritos every day from now until the end of time, I would.

Our final night in the US was crowned with a drink or five with DC and his lovely girlfriend. Russian cocktail bar + mediocre food in Nolita + 1980s themed cocktail bar in Chelsea = a bit tipsy.

I was gutted to leave, but strangely elated to arrive home. We returned to a UK battered by MP expenses scandals and Britain's Got Talent. It seemed like a strange and unusual place. Which I suppose it is...

Labels: new york

posted by deafdisco @ 8:02 am