I considered composing a post for our time
in Vegas, but wasn’t sure how much I could write about what is now a blur of
bandage dresses, champagne and pool partying.
In other words, it was about as memorable
as Memorial Day weekend in Sin City should be. Definitely something worth
bucket-listing, however, if the aforementioned blur sounds appealing to you.
It was quite fitting, really, that we
arrived in the city that never sleeps having not been to bed in 48 hours.
In attempt to save money, we decided to
navigate the subway system to get from JFK to our hotel on the Lower East Side.
To really paint the picture of the ungraceful events that followed, please note
the following points:
1.
We were hung-over, and lugging
3 bags each which, when combined, weighed more than us,
2.
The humidity rivaled that of a
sauna,
3.
There were no elevators or
escalators in the various stations we had to change lines at – just a seemingly
endless amount of stairs,
4.
It was peak hour, so we were
sharing the narrow underground tunnels with the 1.5 million commuters on their
way home from work. And yes, I googled it.
Put simply, our economical efforts resulted
in us being two human-sized witches hats in the middle of a stampede.
But, our catastrophic entrance into the Big
City didn’t deter us. We still managed to get a (well deserved) magnolia
cupcake fix that night.
Having ticked off the tourist to-do’s
during our first visit, we decided to devote this stay to experiencing New York
as New Yorkers do.
Apologies in advance for the envy the
following sentence may invoke in some – gloating is not my intention (and if it
helps, I have a big fat debt eagerly awaiting my return to the land of Oz). But,
after brunching in Nolita, sipping martinis overlooking the Manhattan skyline at
a rooftop bar, cycling across the Brooklyn Bridge into markets at Williamsburg,
unknowingly walking into the middle of a fluro flash-mob in Times Square, and
scoring free sangria at the Madison Square May Markets – I have to say, it’s
all completely worth it.
Indeed, my second bite of the big apple was
just as sweet as the first.
Now, to get that one-year working visa so I
can temporarily call it home.
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