Oh, hello there! So I finally made it to New York this morning. Jet lag? I scoffed. As if. And so Pi and I wandered through East Village sipping incredibly strong coffees, checked out a digital media conference in the Upper East Side, and then I left her to do some exploring on my own. It was a super sweltery summery day, and the siren call of Central Park could not be ignored.
Fuelled by ruby-ripe street-corner strawberries, I wandered acres and acres – from the Met to Belvedere Castle, Sheep Meadow to the Bethesda Fountain. Naturally, I got hopelessly lost. Unfortunately, so did my lens cap when I tried to have a paddle in the lake.
Everyone else had similar ideas to soak up the sun. I saw people doing all kinds of things – from stripped-off sun-bathing to rock-climbing; croquet to tightrope walking. And there are SO many people on bikes, from the sublime (girls cycling in heels who look poised to be papped by the Sartorialist) to the ridiculous:
Despite the thrill of seeing Lupe Fiasco this afternoon, jet lag did indeed catch up with me. After walking the forty-odd blocks home from Grand Central, eating a slice of pizza as big as my head and assuming a horizontal position, staying conscious is suddenly a very tall order. Out the window lightning is popping like paparazzi flashbulbs over East Village tenements, and my feet have the biggest blisters you’ve ever seen. Life is good.