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Sunday 11 August 2013

It’s been awhile …

Well, after many a nostalgic read-through of this blog, I’ve decided to make it a point to actually post here. Because yes, my Tumblr is the place for all things spur of the moment (and man, oh man, is it just ever so convenient to post straight from my phone instead of laboriously downloading all of the photos onto my laptop), but the real memories were on this blog. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back and fill in the missing pieces and days on here (I might for my Europe trips though, just to have a record for posterity), but in terms of moving on, I think I’ll start with today.

Today was one of those wonderfully normal days. A Sunday, and as all Sundays are, it was full of that vibrant joy that comes with trying to seize all of the weekends of summer by the balls, and the bittersweet anxiety of finishing the weekend with, goddammit, something to show for it.

Well, here’s what I have to show.


 

I’m a water baby. And so, it pains me terribly to be in Manhattan during the glorious days of summer, when my choices for immersing myself in a body of water are:

  • a) 100$+ a month fancy club with tiny pool
  • b) 200$+ a month fancy club with somewhat larger pool
  • c) completely free public pool where children pee to their heart’s content
  • d) completely free … Hudson
Anyone who has ever been to New York will have remarked that the Hudson is not exactly the clear and pure. In fact, an article recently described a study that found that the sewage treatment plants at 125th Street were leaking some madly infectious bacteria that, were you to ingest it or were it to come in contact with blood, would pretty much cause you to drop dead.

So you can see my dilemma.

But this weekend, my predilection for all things free and water-related led me to the Downtown Boathouse’s free kayaking program. This outpost of the Downtown Boathouse was, ironically, uptown – by 72nd Street. And you get what you pay for. That is, a couple of volunteers who take your signed waivers (the usual – death, etc, etc not the fault of anyone but your stupid self; although they didn’t mention flesh eating bacteria so  … hmm); a rusted row of lockers and … the docks. So come fully changed or be prepared to entertain your fellow river-path users (of which there are a ton) with your in-the-process-of-changing bod.



But my friend Victor and I managed swimmingly. Or … well enough that we didn’t need to swim. Our eye-smarting boating gear must have endeared us to the spirit of the Hudson, because we managed to not capsize ourselves and had a quite wonderful day. Also a hell of a workout, and for some unknowable reason, my hip flexors hurt the most. Arms (aka the body parts that do the work) – just fine. But legs (aka the body parts that relax and do nothing) – throwing a fit.

Well, as if that weren’t enough, we then traipsed up to 114th for brunch. Now brunch is the mainstay of any true New Yorker. You pretty much get evicted if you don’t like brunch. Luckily, I fit right in and would eat brunch for every meal of the day if I could. Speaking of …. further planning required.

Victor introduced me to Community, which I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T KNOW WAS THIS AMAZING, because I walk past it everyday. SO MUCH WASTED TIME.



The only thing to say – it was MOUTH.GASMIC. The menu was great -  so many choices that I was pretty much on the fence between, oh, everything. But the waiter recommended the Brunch Special – 7 Grain Waffle with Blueberries and Lemon Creme Fraiche. And boy, was he right. I was pretty much making love to this waffle in front of the entire restaurant, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.


Look at it! I mean, LOOK AT IT. The waffle was crunchy on the outside, yet soft on the inside. The blueberries had been lightly cooked, so their juices were extra sweet. The heavy cream wasn’t some weak-ass Starbucks whipped cream – it was real heavy cream, like the kind you have with biscuits in Britain. And the lemony sauce was some orgasmic combination of lemon and butter and altogether it was nothing short of sublime.

I’m pretty much dreaming about it right now.

Sweet dreams to me.

(Seriously).