So far (ignoring my back) this has been a pretty great trip. It's my fourth time here in, as the locals call it, The Big Apple and as a result I don't really feel the need to do so much tourist stuff. Or to fill my days with never-ending walks between sights. I mean, I also did more than the usual amount of stuffing food and coffee into my face on previous trips too, but this time it just feels a little less rushed.
So I'm generally waking up in the morning, slowly taking a shower whilst yawning a lot then casually wandering down to the local corner bakery. This is mostly a cupcake bakery and has therefore adopted a hardcore pink style.
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| breakfast is better with neon |
No Men Allowed
I'm spending the rest of the time here visiting as many gluten free establishments as I can find. The only puzzling thing I'm noticing with all of these is that their clientele is definitely hard leaning to the feminine side of the species. It's just pretty rare to see a man in somewhere that is 100% gluten free. Which is quite a puzzle as medical conditions with gluten don't favour a particular gender. So, is gluten free still considered 'healthy' by people? (spoiler, it's not) and women are just generally better at being healthy than men? Or are we still dealing with macho masculinity and it's love of being strong? "I don't need to eat gluten free, I snort gluten for breakfast, because I'm a big tough manly man".
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| women only please |
Rogue Fluff
It was about halfway through my third day here when I noticed my jacket had picked up a little pink fuzz. This turned out to be from a cheapo street scarf I purchased for $5 (100% cashmere!) on my first day. The job of this scarf was to stop me freezing to death when encountering the 400 mile per hour -15C winds that blow down the avenues here. In this part it thankfully succeeded. In the job of not dissolving whilst I wore it, it has not succeeded. I guess I'll get my $5 worth though.
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| I'm 87% convinced that this fluff is not toxic |
No More Nostalgia
I decided to take a little trip up onto the highline park as I guess I should do a little sight seeing, but at the entrance I saw this sign and almost, just almost didn't go on.
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| well fuck you then |
I mean, I get it, it would probably be bad form for dribbles of dog urine to permeate through the high line onto the meat packing New Yorkers below. But, come on, they're dogs!
I did come across one of my favourite views in New York again though and snapped quite possibly the same photo I did last time I was here. Not that I care, I still love it.
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| why is this so lovely |
Saw the Empire State building from the park too, so I can check that off the list for this visit.
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| just the tip |
In general though, I found the park to be underwhelming. Maybe due to the weather being a bit shit, or that I've been there a couple of times before, or maybe I'm finally becoming that curmudgeonly old man I'm destined to be.
After the park it was time to feed the little British monster inside me. I've been pushing him down with Germanness for the past 6 years and he was starting to get a little irate (there are only so many paprika flavoured crisps he can take). So I took him to an almost British chippy with an appropriately inappropriate name.
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| it's funny because it's domestic violence |
Inside it's very chippy, everything looks fairly similar to what you'd find all over the UK (note the clear see through area to view shit food that they'll reheat for you, plus the band of silver lava below that will sear your skin off within 1.2 seconds if you touch it)
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| ignore the nice ceiling and you could easily be in Kettering |
I went for the favourite of chips n mushy peas, which was, well, a bit spank.
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| am I a victim of nostalgia? |
I'm not exactly sure why. Have I killed my little British monster? Can I no longer appreciate Britishness? I don't think so as pickled onion monster munch and a terrys chocolate orange are still akin to crack for me. So is this just a shit chippy? Possibly, we are in The Americas after all. Or maybe chips just don't do it for me anymore. In which case I'll do a little cry and they'll be round to collect my passport as soon as I'm back.
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