blaugra: Living the high life

Salty D. and I took a bus to the Big Apple for a somewhat spontaneous day of downtown recreation.

First stop, Chelsea Market for coffee and scones and a requisite tourist shot of fresh pretty flowers:

I dragged Salty D. up to the Highline Park, which I love. I think he may have been mildly impressed.

Birdhouse condos:

And seeing the spring springing on the old tracks.

We descended into the Meatpacking District where I led us into the Bond No. 9 New York store and said, "I'd like to smell Highline please" and it was my favorite scent and they had a springy display that made me happy:

And then of course there's the traditional meatpacking district wall art:

We decided to take a train across town to the East Village. Rather, Alphabet City. There we found Salty D's hero memorialized in spraypaint:

And we shopped along St. Mark's Place:

Feeling a little punk rock, we walked over to Manitoba's, via another bar I can't remember, where I matched D. drink for drink. Unfortunately his drink was beer and mine was double Bombay Sapphires and tonics. I was -- er -- highly inebriated but navigating pretty well although my photos started to blur even more.

Dick Manitoba's wife Zoe told us she opened the bar late that afternoon because it had been a late night with patrons from the Bruce Springsteen at the Apollo Theater show. That was okay.

We loved the pics on the wall and I have a soft spot for both Brian Wilson and The Ramones:

The jukebox of course featured The Dictators and was AWESOME.

We were giddy, and not just because of the alcohol. But hungry. So somewhere in the neighborhood, we ended up at a restaurant where I ate a banana filled with pork, I have no idea. My next memory is that the 90-minute bus ride back home sucked ass.

Even though all I bought in NYC was a headache, the day was great and it was the first time since girls' weekend in early December that I had gotten the hell out of my hometown. I needed this. Thus ends this travel essay.