NYC in July: Day Two--Brooklyn

So, I grabbed a cafe latte and a bagel, then caught a train to Brooklyn. Here is what Joe, the excellent photographer whose work can be seen at Joe's NYC, told me about DUMBO:

Well one of my favorite spots is DUMBO, the area between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges which has a couple of new waterfront parks, the Best Pizza in NYC (Patsy's), some galleries, the incredible JacquesTorres chocolate boutique, and lots more. But best of all, the areaunder the bridges is still undeveloped, ragged, and beautiful. Take theA to and walk toward the water or the F to York and likewise.

I followed his lead and emerged from the train at York and Jay Streets, between the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges. The area is still very much under construction, providing for many interesting sights, including construction pictures like this one:



and this one:



I was transfixed at the sight of this mystical-looking Brooklyn Bridge:



Likewise, I appreciated the Manhattan Bridge peeping over the buildings:



These are some other views of that bridge that I liked:





Several interesting shops reside between the train station and the water. The first was a Chinese antiquities shop where they have these interesting wall hangings:



I especially liked the darker brown one on the right and am considering purchasing something like that for my office. I found myself inexplicably entranced by this Chairman Mao clock, complete with waving arms of the people, especially after the owner told me the story of Chairman Mao and the guy on the right side of the clock:



I am now the proud owner of the clock. A cool Danish furniture store caught my attention as well. They have interesting displays like this one:



I forged ahead to the water, finding that at first it could only be viewed through chain link fence or from the buildings at the waterfront. How great would it be to have an office here?



But then I found a little surprise. Who knew that Brooklyn has a beach facing Manhattan? Here it is:



I sat on the adjacent pile of rocks for a while and thought deep thoughts while admiring the details surrounding me:



Artists can be found in the lovely park that extends beyond the beach:



This artist gave me permission to take his photograph:



The walking path winds through the park and back to the water:





There is also a beachfront with small rocks, being enjoyed by humans and birds alike:







What is it that makes every little boy instinctively want to throw the small rocks into the water?

The bridges loom large over the park, where many people were chatting on this Saturday morning:









This park even has a charming boardwalk:





I found these doors, found in the building anchoring the Brooklyn Bridge, really interesting and beautiful:









I reluctantly left the relaxed and gracious park and wandered the Dumbo neighborhood for a little while. I could picture myself living in this apartment:



I found a nice urban grocery store, complete with a corner table at which one could sip lemonade and read the paper while watching the world walk by:



While sitting there, my friend Jay and I made plans to meet up in Madison Square Park, where he was scheduled to buy lunch for a friend's nephew. So I jumped back on the train, which turned out to be a blue train running on the orange train's route, leading to me criss-crossing the city for way too long before finally climbing out of the subway and catching a taxi to our meeting place. I'll write more about that next!

NYC in July: Day One

I arrived at Newark airport at 10:30 a.m. on a Friday and thought to myself that this is the perfect time to arrive in New York--the week's busy-ness is still in the air, but there is also a palpable anticipation of the weekend. I caught a cab and immediately liked my cab driver, a very tall and ruggedly handsome guy from Haiti. Just as we were beginning to chat, he received a call on his cell phone and I was treated to an animated conversation between him and his mother. Actually, the conversation was mostly on her end, as I heard a whole lot of nothing, other than him saying something like "maman" while nodding vigorously. He explained to me sheepishly after hanging up that he was supposed to pick up his mother to take her shoe shopping the other day, but couldn't make it, and that she was very eager for him to fulfill the shoe-shopping promise. We continued a pleasant ride into the city with talk of baseball and football and other things, like the progression of Haitian slaves brought to this country via Louisiana. I have often wondered what we could do to change this country if we harnessed the collective wisdom of the country's cab drivers.

Before I knew it, we arrived at our destination, the Washington Square Hotel:





I had never stayed here before, but it is in the middle of the Greenwich Village/Soho area that I know and love so well, is very convenient to the subway and the price is right. Sadly, I was not able to check in early, as my room was not yet ready. So I checked my bag and trotted across the street to Washington Square Park, where I conducted business with a client via cell phone for the next 30 minutes or so. Business concluded and feeling hungry, I began looking for the Sullivan Street pizza place recommended by my friend Jay, when I realized I was really craving the salmon and feta omelette found at my favorite French cafe. Washington Square is as quaint as always:



On my way out of the park, I saw this sign at a church across the street:



I thought I was finished with organized religion, but I would like to know more about a church that would post this sign.

I found the street where my favorite cafe is located, and stumbled upon this unexpected sight:





Yes, it was a boulle tournament in honor of Bastille Day! The sights and sounds were wonderful:



















As the pictures may reflect, it was a magical scene, revealing of the special nature of New York City. I reluctantly tore myself away and found my cafe just as I left it:



After a deliciously lingering lunch, I strolled back to the hotel and found I was able to check in. The room was just as I expected it--small and cute. I was able to see the park by peering out one of the small windows in the bedroom part of my room. The window air conditioning unit was blasting away, making the place particularly comfortable on this warm day. After another call with a client, I fell into a deep slumber, lulled into dreamlessness by the sound of the Cubs' announcers. I planned to wake up at 6 p.m. so as to be able to attend the Yankees/White Sox game, but I returned to sleep immediately after fielding my wakeup call and did not wake again until after midnight. I left my room around 2:30 a.m., and realized that New York is the kind of place where one can still find a good slice at that hour. After that, I stopped by a favorite bar for a glass of wine. On the way back to the hotel, I noticed a few guitar players at work under the Arch in Washington Square Park. I stopped to listen, leaning up against the base of the arch with a few others who were not yet ready to call it a night. The music changed from the delightful to the surreal, as did the conversation: the music ended with a Pink Floyd singalong and the conversation with a fellow listener with an offer of pot and/or sex. And at that point, I called it a night (alone).

My Saturday morning was spent in Brooklyn, a place I have never visited but always wanted to see. This is one of the first sights I saw as I followed the kind and thoughtful suggestions of Joe, the amazing photographer from Joe's NYC:



I'll write more soon about the other sights I saw in Brooklyn . . .