Walking through the garden of Roberta's, I hold hands with love under the lights. The garden is still empty now, but in an hour, as always, there will be people here. Under the same lights with carafes of red wine and the famous Brooklyn pizzas that have been recognized more than once as the best in New York. The garden of Roberta's is just not our final destination; we are on our way to the garden house named Blanca. This restaurant has a kitchen, a bar that seats about 12 people, and an old-fashioned record player that plays Stevie Wonder. We eat 19 courses and drink 19 different wines. And it is like never before. A recommendation for special occasions or if you want to arrange a surprise for ‘just because’ for your love (like mine did for me).

We eat and drink at the long bar. Next to us sits a couple. Hebrew is the language they speak, until the woman turns to us. We start a conversation. And from the usual small talk about us coming from the Netherlands, living in New York for almost four years, and really not wanting to go back in the near future, the superficial conversation that we have been playing on autopilot turns into long discussions about Israel. About Brooklyn. About New York. About everything and anything. And suddenly these people feel like we have known them much longer. This is New York. This is what makes it magical. Everyone is open to everyone. Everyone learns from each other. And this is exactly one of the reasons why we are really not going back to the Netherlands anytime soon. The woman is leaving for Israel in a few days, but our email addresses have been exchanged for when we come to Israel and she comes here again. Yes, I love New York.

With my new Zara purchase in hand, I quickly take a photo while I’m on the line with my soul sister who lives on the other side of America. Approved, is the final verdict. And with her on the phone, I get into the Uber driver of the evening. I get out at 1 Hotel in Dumbo. The phone call is really coming to an end after about seven hours and I take the elevator up. On the roof, everyone is already there with a wine, a gin, or a spritzer. I join the club and the realization sinks in. Wow, this view is still ours. Cool. And by the way, this rooftop… also cool.

After wine came tequila, after tequila came gin, and then the next morning is heavy. Totally not ready for daylight, there’s already a wagging Blue next to my bed. I mumble that today and especially this morning, the boss is the one who has to let our nagging friend outside. And after I turn over for a moment, the guys come home with exactly what is needed for mornings like this: coffee and the best cheese croissant from Marlow & Daughters. What good men I have.