Day 181 The Worm in the Apple

I strolled across the Brooklyn Bridge yesterday and enjoyed the good weather. I could not bring myself to go to any museums or visit any other sights. After Paris I only wanted to walk and relax. I walked about 70 or 80 blocks and only took the grungy subway twice.

I had the unfortunate need to ask for help with the bus to DC. It is a discount bus run by a Chinatown company and does not have a storefront. At only $20 for oneway, I had no complaints other than I could not find the stop. Everyone I asked was brusque and not helpful, even customer service people at the bus station. It was amazing to see people go from friendly to rude as soon as I asked them to think a little. I talked to maybe ten people and none of them were glad to help me, not that they were helpful anyway. I am glad I was not staying longer. I finally found another Chinatown bus and I made my way to DC for my Foreign Service Oral Assessment.

Day 179 New York

I love good surprises and New York was it. My last visit to NY was when I was working as fashion photographer. The agency I was working for flew me and a group of models to a fashion convention for two weeks. The models were a pain, everything was overpriced, and people were rude everywhere I went. Needless to say, the Big Sour Apple left me with a lasting distaste.

To my astonishment this time, the people I met were outwardly friendly, prices were good, and I didn’t have to deal with models. Okay, so the last part wasn’t a surprise. Seriously, I was baffled by how nice people were. But of course, I did not need anything this time. I could manage to do things and get around without help. Patrícia had an experience more like my first time. She thinks that if I needed something of people they would have been rude. I’ll see if it is true. I don’t know if the prices are better than last time or if I shop at different places now. Also, compared to Paris and the bad exchange rate, NY is not bad at all.

I bought Rollerblades today and went to Central Park to try them out. It was a beautiful sunny day—that was good. The park is big with many places to skate—that was good. Everyone else in NY thought it was the perfect day to be in the park too—that was bad. The people that sold me my skates didn’t offer to sell me protective gear—that was bad. I was thinking it was like ice skating and didn’t consider protective gear—that was bad. I failed to learn how to stop well before I went down a big hill—that was very bad. I managed to not fall down—that was good. I did remove a chunk of skin from my hand—that was bad.

After my mishap, I put on my winter gloves, (it was cool anyway) and skated around about two thirds of the park, stopping occasionally to watch experienced skaters make me feel like I was mentally disabled. They make it look soooooo easy. I consoled myself with the fact that everything I had read about in-line skates said all beginners look like idiots. I will try again, but only with some pads.

I am working on a idea that I will continue to explore in my travels. It is this: If any busy food place claims to be the king of anything, I have to eat there. In NY's Chinatown I ran across the Custard King and could not resist. It looked as if it had been there a long time and I doubted that such a grand claim made on a giant cartoon sign, could be entirely wrong.

In exchange for my 75 cents the clerk handed me the warm little bundle of custard. I knew it was going to be good from the way it tried to escape the flakey pastry as I carried it. I took a seat in the sun drenched window and lifted it to my mouth, careful to not crush the delicate shell. The aroma of warm vanilla custard filled my senses as I took the first bite. Oh...delicious. So delicous, I had to set it down and take the picture above. And then I ate two more even though I wasn't hungry. I just cannot help myself when I am face with culinary genius.

Two other notable food "Kings" are Taco King in Washington/Oregon and The Kebab King in Granada. I will certainly keep my eyes peeled for more food nobility to test this theory.

Day 176 Going Rome Again

There is a certain pleasure inreturning to a familiar city. Specifically, everything is easier. On the first visit, I have to figure out how everything works. It takes a few days to work out the details of what is expected in stores (in which ones to pay first or later, self serve or not, etc..), how the metro and buses work (tickets, passes, automated kiosks, routes, transfers, etc..), what the accepted level of courtesy is, good places to eat and shop, and so on.

When I arrived back in Rome it was like an old friend. I knew how most everything worked, where things were, and what was expected. I could relax from the start. I easily found a better hostel than on my last visit and it was close to the central train station, Termini. Too bad I was only there for a day an a half.

After a nap, the first thing I did was to get some giant scoops of pistachio and coconut gelato from Old Bridge Gelato. OMG. I love that stuff. It was even better than I had remembered and I had to fight the urge to get seconds. Instead I walked the two blocks over to St. Peter’s Square and savored the grandeur of the enormous space as darkness enveloped the ancient city.

The next day I took a train to the town of Macarresse to check out a house for rent for my friend Chuck. I was hoping for a cute little Italian village but I ended up wandering in a bedroom community that could have been in almost any country. The house was nice though. On the trip back, I could not find anyplace to buy a return ticket and ended up riding for without one. I figured it was a small payback for the airport taxis in Paris.

I made it back to Rome in time for a free pasta dinner at the hostel. The little hunched-over Italian grandma in the hostel kitchen handed me a plate of penne that was barely coated with sauce and sparsely strewn with tomato chucks and beans. It looked like it needed a big scoop of sauce. I was wrong. Very wrong. I do not know how she managed to pack that much flavor into so little sauce. It was fantastic. Eating the perfectly al dente pasta, I felt guilty about my initial doubts and had to erase them with the distracting pleasure of another plate. I love travel!