“Tired Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep!”
Edward Young 1685-1765 Night Thoughts (1742-5)

I awoke in New York with this in mind. I had been ruthlessly marched up and down Manhattan the previous day, followed by some not inconsiderate imbibing of Spanish wine, with our food naturally, and after a short stroll back to our accommodations and a restorative cup of tea, I naturally felt a little spent. I had had this idea that trying to get to sleep would be difficult as I would hear sirens going off in all directions and times like you hear in the background on TV. As I stated in my last post that area of NYC had decided to sleep also so I slept the sleep of a tired man.
A new bed tends to encourage me to dream. Tonight was no different but, although vivid my recollection of the content slipped away with the coming dawn. My party mustered itself for the morning and we trouped down to our hosts for coffee. No one seemed hungry so it was decided to take a constitutional down to Central Park. To clear the cobwebs and stir the sluggish blood. It was a very pleasant morning. Crisp yet not nippy with a promise of better to come. I am not sure if it was by design but we chanced upon a farmers market. It would seem this was a regular Sunday thing. Locals setting up shop to sell their wares of a morn.
Our hosts stopped by veg seller who was the most enormous man. He explained his produce but the reason for the stop was for Asparagus. Fresh out this spring and the hosts were determined to sample it fresh. I quite like Asparagus and will eat it heartily despite the after effects in the toilet but I don’t go mad for it. I guess it is a sign of spring and the promise of better times to come after a harsh winter. NYC winters a harsh.
After the purchase and some sound gardening advice, we set off again arriving at Central Park next to the Museum of Natural History. I don’t understand exactly how American crossings work I just wait until everyone starts moving and join in. There are “Walk/Don’t Walk” signs but it would seem they are ignored by pedestrian and automobile alike. To cross a road is to take your life in your hands, especially if you are like me and are continually looking in the wrong direction all the time.
Once inside we chanced upon the Shakespeare garden. Pretty flowers arranged around bits of verse from the Bard. It was suggested I would have seen a lot of these in the UK but I must admit I have never come across one. I would probably have passed it by as I am not a fan of man to be honest.
We found a lake or two and the crystal clear conditions exposed the menace of the snapping turtles. Which actually are pretty harmless unless they get you.
A couple were having a video made of them as they perambulated around the park. IT was claimed it was all part of the wedding nuptials, the romantic meeting, falling love stuff. Call me a cynic but my money was on a preamble for and adult film. But maybe I just spend too much time at my computer!
The New York Road Runners were having an annual road running fest all over the park that morning. There were road runners of all types of competence and some who looked like they really should have stayed in bed that day.
It was time then to make for home and rustle up some breakfast. We had to stop first at a supermarket that could provide us with our required Deli comestibles. The shop was called Zabar’s. It was a veritable Shangri-La of produce. It was amazing, if only I could shop like that all the time.
Unlike here in the UK where the supermarket giants are all utilitarianly aseptic with wide aisles and carefully staked products. This place was just stuffed to the gills with stuff. It was a delicatessen with a counter but it had counters for just about everything and were there weren’t counters there were shelves stacked with all kinds of produce. It was not unclean just crowded. People and things jockeying for space, it was amazing. A lot of stuff you just couldn’t get in the UK, sometimes just packaged in a way that was convenient for use. I was all at sea. The resident Americans in my party split up into effective units, divide and conquer. So our hosts queued for the smoked fish, whilst my grouping went for bagels and coffee. My brother stacked up the coffee, they don’t get to this Deli often so they make the most of it.
Once back at HQ I became a bystander in a spectacle that I can only describe as “The New York Breakfast Experience”. One of the things I love about the US is the way the take breakfast seriously. Well this one was no exception. I had no idea breakfast could be such a team sport. As far as I could ascertain we were going to consume bagels, cream cheese and smoked Salmon (plus other smoked fish). In my sad world it would be a bunch of plates with stuff on and we would all dive in. Today however there were5 people beavering away at preparation, splitting bagels, arranging fish, arranging meats, chopping cucumber lettuce. Everyone seemed to be doing 2 jobs at once. And making a lot of noise in the process. I was quite bewildered.
My breakfast experience means one person and a frying pan. What ever you want has to go through the frying pan. Not here in New York.
I am not a lazy man and in the words of Jerome K Jerome I am fascinated by it, so much so that I could sit and watch it for hours. So I did. Only in America could such productivity be obtained by so many in such a small space.
We consumed the breakfast in contented conversation.
All too soon it was time for us to leave. I had a plane to catch and it was in Boston. We bade or farewells and trolleyed our luggage back to the car. And then with my brother at the helm we nosed our way out of NYC and headed for Massachusetts.
It was the perfect way to finish. The last few days of a holiday can be bitter sweet and melancholy but with this trip my feet didn’t touch the ground all weekend to the point where I was at sensory overload.