NYC 2019

Central Park

Our trip to NYC this year was motivated primarily by Frieda's desire to visit her nephew Ken and her brother and sister. But she also wanted to meet Ken’s two-month-old son and renew her acquaintance with his two-year-old daughter, whom she hadn’t seen since shortly after she was born. In addition, she wanted to get together with a friend she'd known since first grade but hadn't seen in a decade. As usual, we took the red eye on Jet Blue and got into JFK around 6AM Wednesday morning. We'd rented a VRBO studio apartment on West 71^st as of the night before so we could go directly over there. I can't get any quality sleep on a plane so took a nap there while Frieda met her brother and sister at Sarabeth's on Amsterdam for breakfast. 

Tulips

She got back to our apartment about eleven, woke me up, and we ambled through lavish sunshine down 71^st to Central Park where the tulips and cherry trees were blooming, and the bicycles were swooping between the horse-drawn carriages. It was lovely and made me feel like the ordeal to get there had been worth it and that spring was the perfect time to visit the City. After circling Tavern on the Green, we made our way up Columbus to Pomodoro's for lunch, where we took advantage of the weather by dining al fresco on the patio, then went back to the apartment to relax. In the evening we had tickets for “Hillary and Clinton” at the Golden. (Since seeing “Hamilton” in San Francisco we’ve gotten a bit more theater oriented.) The playwright, Lucas Hnath, has gotten a lot of attention recently, winning an Obie a couple of years ago, so I was curious to see something of his. This play, his latest, starring Laurie Metcalf and John Lithgow, was both funny and sad, the writing strong, somewhat reminiscent of Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.” Afterward we walked to Don't Tell Mama, a cabaret nearby that has become one of our regular stops in the city, where we listened to live performances of songs from “Cabaret,” “A Chorus Line,” and “La Cage au Folles.” From there we headed to Victor's on 52^nd, a Cuban cafe that's another favorite stop, where we hoped to swill a couple of Mojitos but were disappointed to find they were closing, though it was only eleven o'clock. 

Don't Tell Mama

Thursday morning dawned gloomy and gray. We had breakfast in, then headed for Frieda's brother's converted loft on 19^th. We took the subway but got off too far away so had to meet him in Union Square, where he was walking his dog. We had a pleasant short visit before he set off to tend his boat moored on Long Island and we returned to Victor's for the best Mojitos this side of Havana plus Cuban tapas. Later we dropped by Whole Foods at Columbus Circle and took our purchases over to Ken’s apartment where, after the kids were put to bed, Frieda made dinner and we had a pleasant, relaxed meal and caught up on the latest gossip about mutual acquaintances. It was raining when we emerged, so we hailed a cab.

It was still pouring the next morning, so we shook out the umbrella and headed for the Natural History Museum, but it proved too mobbed to enjoy, with people jammed into the elevators like they were Tokyo subway cars at rush hour and swarming through the exhibits like locusts stripping crops, so we didn’t stay long. Ken, who was taking the afternoon off work, met us for lunch at Sarabeth's. He had a table by the time we arrived and pointed out Megyn Kelly sitting a few tables down from us. Every time we visit the City, we spot a celebrity or two. We had a leisurely, tasty lunch, then walked to his apartment through a brief lull in the rain. 

From Ken's Apartment

In the middle of the night I woke with a sore throat. I managed to get back to sleep but it was worse in the morning. Blaming it on the plane ride, I popped some Yin Chao (Chinese herbs) and we walked to Landmarc at Columbus Circle for pain perdu, the most delicious French toast you’ve ever had and another NYC ritual for us. Ken, whose apartment is nearby, showed up with his daughter on her scooter and had a cup of coffee, then we strolled back to his place. Frieda's sister, her husband and daughter Ubered over from New Jersey and we all, including the children, went to familial feast at nearby Rosa Mexicana. Frustratingly, I had to avoid interacting with the children for fear of infecting them. After the family left later in the afternoon, Ken ordered in Chinese for the four of us and we had another comfortable, amiable evening. 

Sunday remained gloomy and damp but drizzling more than raining. Ken picked us up in his X5 and chauffeured us around the area between Riverside Drive and Columbia University, the neighborhood where the Montessori School his daughter will be attending in the fall is located and where he's also been shopping for an apartment to replace their current one which now, with two kids of disparate genders, they are beginning to outgrow. Then he dropped Frieda at Alamo on 44^th to pick up our Altima rental. We hung at his place until about 4 PM just visiting, then threaded the Lincoln Tunnel and, after a quick stop to say goodbye to Frieda’s sister in Woodridge, New Jersey, cruised up to River Vale, where her longtime friend Diane lives with her husband Jimmy. 

Landmarc

 

I’d never met them before, but they proved so hospitable and friendly that I soon felt I’d known them for years. We had great fun talking, drinking, laughing, and eating with them, despite the failure of the Chinese herbs to stem my cold, and didn't get to bed until 2 AM. The next morning dawned cool but with some sun breaking through now and then. It was the second-best weather day of the trip and Jimmy took us on a scenic drive to Cold Spring, NY, on the Hudson River, for lunch at the Hudson House River Inn and then over to a place in Piedmont called Confetti for drinks. The owner was a friend of theirs and welcomed us warmly. Back at their place we watched Arya slay the Night King in the Battle of Winterfell episode of “Game of Thrones.”

Tuesday was yet another cold, gloomy day that meant back to work for them. After they left, we packed up, drove to the Farmhouse Cafe for some breakfast, and then headed to the city where the rental car was due by noon. With that taken care of, we phoned Lyft for a ride to JFK.

T-Rex

 

Given the generally gloomy, cold, wet weather we encountered, maybe spring isn’t the best time to visit New York after all. When you factor in that I was sick half the time, and that Frieda caught it from me, and we’ve only recently come out of it, it’s hard to feel really positive about the trip. Especially when you consider that our illness prevented close interaction with the kids, one of our primary reasons for going. I’ve been sick three times this year, on each occasion three days after getting off an airplane. All the same, we had a few good experiences to weigh against the bad.