Day 533 Chelsea High Line

We slept in.  Glorious.  Dan’s alarm sounded at 08:30 and I relaxed; I had 2.5 hours before I needed to hail a cab to La Guardia to catch my domestic flight to Chicago.  We spent half an hour trying to convince each other that the other should make the first move to get out of bed, with increasingly flimsy reasons why it would be impossible to get up first.
Dan’s work colleague from Perth Zoo cafe, Ryland, who spent last ski season working in Banff, is in town this weekend and we’d hoped to meet up for breakfast, but we’d all slept in too late for that to happen.  Hopefully Dan will see him later today.  Instead Dan and I, and my carry-on suitcase, walked the Chelsea High Line again, this time with the new extension at its North end.   My suitcase has seen two zoos in Canada, and now the Chelsea High Line.  It’s a well-travelled carry-on.  Rather spoilt for an inanimate object.
It was cold enough to walk with our down jackets on but warm enough to have them open.  Except I couldn’t feel my crotch by the 34th St exit.  I had an espresso with milk and a pastry from the Chelsea Markets as breakfast.  My stomach must still be digesting the noodles we had at Noodle Bar last night, finally found noodles in North America that had some taste and the thin wonton noodles that I liked.  The fried rice had sliced lap cheong too, which brought back memories of childhood.
The next three days is going to be busy; I’ve filled my schedule with academic programs for the days (registering for the presentations I want to attend at RSNA, having previously discovered you can’t just wander in to a packed room to find a seat if you’re late) and made dinner/social plans in the evenings.  Going back to work on Wednesday will be a welcome holiday from this week of intense social events.

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