The train is noisy. The carriage rocks violently side-to-side as it hurtles South. An infant is crying its lungs out from its pram while serval groups of adults are loudly conversing, each in languages other than English. The train is not stopping at all stations so I have no idea where we will end up. We just finished walking around the Cloisters, a purpose-built section of the Metropolitan Museum, a US$40 can ride North of Aaron’s place in West Village. It’s weird seeing bits of European architecture set into recreated buildings in the middle of Manhattan. It’s Mother’s Day, so we cancelled plans to meet up for brunch, when somebody correctly predicted long queues outside every café in Manhattan in today’s glorious sunshine. I’d called Mum the night before and left a message on the answering machine. Dan called his grandmother early Sunday morning. It was good to talk to her; she’s just got out of hospital after a fall last week.
Next stop: 59 Street Columbus Circle. I think we’ve been here before. When we flew down in fall for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
The train just jolted and a small child flew off his chair, onto the ground. Daniel moved to protect his broken left fifth toe and Julian braced for impact into the two people on his left. You wouldn’t want to transport a cake or anybody with osteogenesis imperfecta on the subway. But it beats walking. Despite wearing my Birkenstocks, with their cork insoles, my feet hurt from all our traipsing about. I’ll be glad to get home to Toronto tonight, and sleep in our own bed again.
We caught the subway down to Canal St, walked down through Chinatown and ate yum cha at Nom Wah Tea Parlor, which was very popular. I liked their sticky rice but the fried rice was uninspiring. We ordered far too much and were all very full when we waddled out toward the Brooklyn Bridge. In the afternoon we napped before heading back out to buy a bottle of Jameson as a thank-you present (I’d already packed 3 packets of my horde of Tim Tams). We ate tapas nearby before a quick, “Hi, Bye!” as Aaron arrived home and we caught a cab to the airport, only to find our plane delayed 90 minutes. I read more of my new book (well, a softcover I’ve borrowed from Bec), The Light Between Oceans. It’s set in Western Australia and it’s making me a little homesick. I’ve no idea why since it’s set in a remote lighthouse off the coast that I’ve never seen and probably never will.