My holiday finishes later today, when Laura and I fly back to Canada and part ways. We’re at La Guardia airport now (Terminal B is not exactly a major shopping and dining destination), so there’s just time to post a final update.
I spent Friday afternoon meandering my way up town through several neighbourhoods and SATC fan-girling at the New York Public Library. On Saturday, I walked in the other direction, down to the lower east side, taking pictures of shopfronts and street art, and stopping every few blocks for tea or coffee. I was booked onto two tours at the Tenement Museum, which were amazing. The walking tour, which focused on the food cultures of immigrant communities from the 1880s to the present day, was the best sort of history lesson: we were outside, the sun was shining, and there was a different snack every ten minutes. The places we visited told stories of assimilation, persecution and poverty, but the wonderful food was a powerful illustration of how societies and individuals can also evolve in positive ways.
Saturday evening began with us getting caught in the rain. Like, proper movie rain. Only I was with Laura, rather than Colin Firth or Hugh Grant, and it was made even less romantic by leaking shoes and broken umbrellas. We dried off in a pizza place before arriving at Radio City Music Hall to see Lauryn Hill. I may write about the concert another time, but the pertinent point for now is that we regretted not eating a more substantial dinner. Accordingly, this morning we returned to a vegetarian breakfast place from earlier in the week where we both had smoothies, granola-y things and copious hot drinks. After packing, we did a quick tour of the Whitney, which has wonderful balconies as well as art, then got hot dogs from Greenwich Market to eat on our way back to the hotel.
Thank yous are owed to Emma for breakfast in DC and meticulous NY food tips; to Eric for Friday night beers and bar snacks; to Cathy for museum recommendations; to Jess for telling me about her parents’ trip to the Tenement Museum; to Grandma for the birthday and Christmas presents of holiday funds; and to my oldest friend, Laura, for a wonderful ten days away. Not only did she bring garibaldi biscuits, but she also paid for cocktails and volunteered to sleep on the top bunk. In fact, she’s so fabulous that I value her friendship almost as highly as a rainy encounter with Colin. Almost.