I made the decision not to use my long weekend to go away anywhere, but instead to stay in New York.
So I tried to find all the most American/New York activities that I could fill my weekend with.
I ended up with a half day on Thursday and off Friday, so I had plenty time to soak up the sunshine, chill out and do things I’d had on my list. And drink lunchtime beers.
On Thursday I tried a very interesting New York drink… a shot of Jamieson with a chaser of pickle juice.
I have no words for that experience. But I’d probably do it again. After a smaller dinner.
Best not knowing what it is before you do it. Probably why I liked the first one but not the second.
I got to check something else off my bucket list. Roller blading in Central Park.
One of the most terrifying, exhilarating, hilarious experiences of my life.
This was a random decision that a friend suggested and then she bailed out of. As well as two others. Dropping us from 6, to 3. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened. Since it gave each of us a person to hold onto to get along the road and down the first hill.
Holy crap. I sucked.
At least to start with I really sucked. And then a little less. And then I got a little cocky. And then I flew.
Flew waaaaaay up in the air and crashed down to reality, the reality of remembering that, oh yeah, I suck at roller blading.
If there’s one thing in life I wish someone had filmed. This was it.
So I got side tracked and went along a road that I shouldn’t have. Turned to cross over.
Picked up speed. Way faster than I expected.
Swerved past a parked car. Swerved the opposite way past a drain. I was feeling pretty good. Fast. But good.
Tried to stop to wait for my friends. But I still couldn’t work out the brake. So tried to press against the kerb – this method had been working so far.
Not that time.
Feet went over the kerb. Higher than my head. Flying through the air. Then I plummeted to the ground. My phone went one way, my sunglasses went the other, I lay in a heap in the middle laughing hysterically, while a group formed around me.
All I could think was, ‘I hope I didn’t rip my shorts’.
After that I was pretty slow… and cut, and bruised, and really muddy.
Team photo: Team Skidmark.
Happy America Day
I wanted to do the most American thing I could think of.
So I went to Coney Island for the Hot Dog Eating Competition. Of course.
This has to be one of the best decisions I have made since moving.
It was hilarious. Hideous. A true American cultural experience.
And dragged out way too much.
The whole concept is so wrong. Watching it made me want to be sick. But I couldn’t physically look away.
The best moment was when a gospel choir started to sing and the presenter was lifted up in a cherry picker to Eminem, “Lose Yourself”. There are no words.
This guy ^^ ate 62 hot dogs in 10 minutes.
I wonder what happens for the rest of the day…
New York on July 4
Turns out it is eerily quiet in New York on Independence Day. Everyone just goes out of town for the weekend. I have never seen it that quiet. Not even at stupid times in the morning.
I mean what else is there to do on a public holiday other than drink copious amounts of rum for $25 for 3 hours?
Oh yeah. Drink less rum than I did. That would’ve been a good start.
This was followed, from what I sort of remember, by some fireworks.
I have no interesting pictures of alcohol, so instead I will share this beautiful mac and cheese filled burger 🙂
Chill in the sun
The only possible way to spend Sunday was to eat food and lie in the sun.
I had planned to get to Governor’s Island to do this. But you know. Rum. Wasn’t going to happen.