Travel & Hotspots

Our girl in New York

What our dear Bo is up to this week? You can read about it here!

There was wine. There was more wine. There was pizza with truffle. There was creamy burrata. And then there were the cocktails. On the terrace at a wobbly but cozy little table on the terrace of Pizza Beach in the Lower East Side, my partner and I had a good old-fashioned date night again. Just him and me, and a lot of wine in the most colorful restaurant in the Lower East. The outside doors are aquamarine, the restroom is pink, and inside the sounds of music and happy people celebrating Friday echo. Just like us. With pizza, wine, and a lot of amore.

Blues nose drips with misery. While he leans a bit wistfully against his owner, he looks at me with his bead-like eyes somewhat reproachfully. I hear him think: ‘Guys, what are we going to do now? I'm getting nauseous in this car and the driver didn't count on me in his shiny car with (still) undamaged leather upholstery.‘ Telepathically, I try to convey to him that this ride is definitely worth it. We are going to Nyack. About 40 minutes in the car to Upstate. In a brand new renovated hotel called The Time. For walks in the woods, a dip in the pool, and of course breakfast in bed.

And so it happened. First that dip, then through the woods, and finally that breakfast in bed.

Sweat runs down my back. This dress is lovely, but these long sleeves are hell. I am standing neatly burning in the full sun, but luckily the boat finally arrives. The heat is numbing and I concentrate on standing in line and showing my ticket that will lead me to a seat on the air-conditioned boat. But the ticket checker won't let me in. He shakes his head and points to the water. That boat over there, that's mine and I've just missed it. An internal barrage of curses from my side follows. But since that only makes me warmer, I regroup, find a piece of shade, and wait melting away for that one ferry that has to come to pick me up. And then finally, after about an hour and a half (normally it's a thirty-minute ride from door to door), I am at Maman. The place where peace reigns, the tables float, and I can finish my emails. Fortunately, the return to the island goes better and my friend L. and I cool off. But still, I think: I need to stick to the East River Ferry schedule.

With great anticipation, I walk purposefully through Bed Bath & Beyond. I know exactly where I need to be, as I've been there before. Unfortunately, always without success. But when it comes to pure chocolate sprinkles, I can't be stopped. I stand, I bend, I look, and what do you think? The whole shelf is full of packs of chocolate sprinkles. Almost all of them go into my basket, alongside the English licorice, the Autodrop, and the salty fish. What luck. Bed Bath & Beyond sells just that piece of the Netherlands that I sometimes miss so much. But that is now also a thing of the past. Now I never want to leave New York again... And to celebrate that, I treat myself to a bag full of flowers.