Ug, dreams while sick in India

Ug... Not well, headache, diarrhea, nausea and feverish, hot and cold, shivering and sweating....

But after being up in the middle of the night for relief of some, and a few hot showers to wash and relax I got a few hours of sleep.

Back in bed, wrapped tightly in a cozy, cotton blanket, if I was laying on my back I felt worse, necessitating at least one extra trip out to the bathroom.

Curled up on either side in a fetal position and I had science fiction dreams, space stations, bug-eyed monsters and me and the characters kept escaping, while sending texts via mobile to people outside the dream world. And then waking with feeling a bit improved.

Lying belly down, slightly more comfortable in the time between waking and sleeping, led to similar dreams, but the bug-eyed monsters winning and catching the made-up characters, followed by waking and feeling slightly worse.

Now the sun is up and while I don't feel good, the degree of wretchedness is less... I'll drink some water and try getting more sleep...

(Sorry about the font, it's just copy paste from another app and I don't feel like solving it now)

Sex Life Improvements in New York City

One of the reasons I was getting homesick in India was because our sex life was, well, very dull...  Both of us were sick much of the time, going from one throat infection to a stomach ailment to a sinus infection, to the flu and so forth, and there was very little overlap when both of us were between illnesses.

In between those, there was a lot more pressure to overeat at most meals, and neither of us was exercising at all.  I was afraid to step out the door because of the traffic, heat, pollution, noise and general chaos of Indian streets made me horribly uncomfortable and relieved to spend most of my free time inside reading books or playing on the computer.

Unfortunately, all that really ruined our sex life, neither of us was "in the mood" at the same times, and when we were, I was so out of shape that my "performance" left a lot to be desired, not really satisfying either one of us.

But now that I've been in New York City nearly two years, eating somewhat better (I mean, no dietician is going to cheer over my diet, but it's not as bad as in India where Leena and her mother really pressured me to overeat continuously with oily, rich, fried Indian foods (I mean, don't get me wrong, most of it was delicious!)) and walking heavily on the weekends, I'm in better shape.  When Leena arrived a month and a half ago she commented on how I've lost a lot of weight.  She's also bee joining me in walking hard on the weekends and is overeating less here.

With both of us in less bad shape than we were in India, and healthier, our sex life is getting a lot better!

Some of what helps is we get to be more romantic on a day-to-day basis, holding hands while walking, and unlike India, where any time we move near a window there's someone down below looking up, drivers, watchmen, laborers walking by, here we can walk around the apartment in various states of undress without worrying about an audience staring at us.

Another big help is the smaller apartment, making us bump into each other quite a bit more...  In India we lived in a 3 bedroom flat, each with our own bedroom (she said my panic about being late every morning kept her from sleeping), and it was up to me to make visits in the mornings when I was in the mood (which sometimes didn't last in a chilly walk across the flat).  Now we have a single, tiny bedroom so we're sleeping next to each other, finally.

And having inspiring neighbors doesn't hurt, either...

So, yeah, life is better in New York City!

India Day Parade 2012 with Leena

Leena and I went to the Indian Independence Day parade on Madison Avenue today.  Overall it was fun, though the music from some of the floats was a little loud for my sensitive ears.

The full album, with captions and what-not is available on my Google albums (I don't know why these aren't better integrated...)

We took the subway down from 49th Street, where we live, to 23rd Street near the Flatiron Plaza and walked through Madison Square Park to Madison Avenue.

One thing we did wrong was stop at 28th Street instead of going further up Madison Avenue.  The parade reviewing stand was just one block up from us, and some of the parade floats emptied out there, including the one with the grand marshall, Bollywood star, Saif Ali Khan, so we didn't get to see him (Leena said "no big deal" because he used to be a jerk when they were kids and he went to play with the kids in her apartment building).

Here's probably some of the first photos I've posted here with Leena...

I used my SLR with my Canon 35mm f/1.4 L series lens and a lot of the shots came out pretty well.  I used the camera in automatic, no-flash mode mostly.

The Romance of Holding Hands

Leena and I have been married for 8 years now, and we dated for about two years before that.  But except for the past week and a half in New York City, all of our time together was in Pune, India (unless you count that once she came with her brother to pick me up from the airport in Mumbai).

India is a country where it's not against the law, but couples holding hands in public run the risk of being beaten up by police for behaving in such an indecent manner.  Pune is more liberal, but it's still not really appropriate and the few times we ever held hands lots and lots of men stared openly at us.

Now that Leena's finally made it to New York, where I've been for nearly two years, we're spending a lot of time out and about together.  Occasionally we hold hands, but it feels very weird.  Our grip is clumsy and it doesn't feel very natural, no matter how many other couples I see...

It'll take time, I guess.

Return Travel from India

I returned to the U.S. from my three week vacation in India on November 18th, with a flight around 2:30am on the 19th.

The trip to the airport in Mumbai was fine.

Once in the airport I checked in and dumped my bags with the airline for the trip, then paced up and down the nonsecure parts of the terminal looking for a quiet place to sit and fill in the immigration form.  There was a small lounge that was jam packed with people at the far, far end of the terminal from where I checked in.

Finishing that, I got in line for Immigration (which technically, should be Emigration, since it's for exiting India).  There were two lines, both of which stretched completely out of the Immigration hall's roped queues and freeform into the terminal.  While I was waiting, some guy tried to go through the First Class and Diplomatic line, which is shorter, telling the gov't security woman "I'm a platinum customer" and when she said nothing, and didn't open the rope he started yelling "PLATINUM, DO YOU KNOW WHAT PLAT -- I -- NUM MEANS?" and she still didn't let him through, so he got in the regular line.

Behind me in line was a young woman who whenever the line inched forward would walk ahead until she hit me, never just stopping a few inches behind me.  The line took about 40 minutes or so until my turn at an Immigration counter, where I had no troubles and didn't get any questions from the officer.

Through there the line formed for the security check.  There was a bottleneck in that two officers checked all the passengers' passports and boarding cards for the fresh Immigration stamp, then there were the roped queues going to the actual security checks.  The security check was like it always is in Mumbai, chaotic and confusing about where to go, which line to be in, and a longer time separated from my bag than at other airports.  It took another 20 or 30 minutes…

Once through I found a seat in a somewhat quiet lounge in the terminal to call Leena and talk for a bit...

After she and I got off the phone I just sort paced around the terminal.  There wasn't any food that seemed appealing at the time, so I was a little hungry, but didn't get anything.  I kept using the bathrooms, too, to empty myself out for the travel.

We started boarding at the time I sent Leena an SMS (which was quite a struggle because I forgot how the old Motorola RAZR worked…) to say I was on my way...

I got a window seat for the flight from Mumbai to London, so that was good…  I slept for around 4 continuous hours when they dimmed the lights, and then off and on later.  The whole flight was in night time, with the dawn some way behind us, but getting closer and closer throughout...

I got to my seat early in the boarding process because it was so far in the back.  That was when I opened my backpack to get out my sweatshirt that I noticed my new, $1,500 Canon 35mm f/1.4 lens was not there...

It wasn't until the plane was nearly full and few people were still getting on that my row-mates arrived…  They were an elderly Gujarati couple.  The wife took the aisle seat and the man took the middle one, immediately spreading his legs wide so he encroached on my space.  And smelled kind of bad…

Both of them coughed horribly throughout the whole flight, without covering their mouths or anything.  The woman looked like she was pretty sick most of the time.  She refused all food and spent a lot of the flight with her head against the seat in front of her.

When the meal came around, the flight attendant asked me if I wanted the egg or the idli & upma option, but asked them if they wanted veg or non-veg.  The man got veg, which I also got, since the non-veg one was scrambled eggs, which I don't like.

I take it the older couple are not seasoned, worldly travelers…  The man opened his meal and didn't recognize the idli, sambar or upma, all three of which originated in south India but are now common everywhere.  For each one of them he asked me, "what this?" and when I told him he asked, "is vegetarian?".

Near the end of the flight the flight attendants handed out suggestion and rating cards to some passengers to fill, about how the airline performed.  After I finished filling my rating card, the guy next to me handed me the couple's U.K. Immigration Landing Cards and their passports and sort of asked me to fill them out, because neither of them speaks or reads enough English for that…  So, I started with one, copying the details from the man's passport (that's how I know they were Gujarati…) onto the Landing Card.

I filled all of it except the details about their stay in the U.K. and when I asked, the guy said they were going to London.  But I'd noticed his Indian passport had been issued in San Francisco, so I guessed they have relatives in the U.S. and might be visiting there, so I asked "U.S.?" and he said "Los Angeles" and showed me his boarding pass for a flight from London to Los Angeles.

At that point, I couldn't ask in Hindi or English for him to understand whether or not they were spending any time in the U.K. that would require them to go through Immigration.  I rang for a flight attendant and when she showed up I explained the problem and she asked the guy in Hindi about their travel plans, finding that they weren't leaving Heathrow Airport, so they didn't need the cards at all…

The couple split up after we landed, the man getting off the plane while the woman stood in the aisle and indicated for me and others to go ahead of her.  Maybe she needed assistance getting off and was waiting for a wheelchair or something, I'm not sure.  She definitely didn't look well, so it's a possibility.

It was a long, long walk from the plane to the first sign for transfer passengers showing what terminal to go to for the next flight.  I stood around a little bit to see if I'd see them so I could tell them where to go, but they never showed up.  If she needed assistance then probably the airline person who helped would also get them to the right place.

It turned out to be a lot more walking to get to the bus between terminals, which I just barely got on before the doors closed and the bus left the terminal.  And then in that other terminal another security checkpoint for transfer passengers.  It was smaller, yet more confusing and chaotic than the regular security checkpoints for passengers entering the airport there at Heathrow.  But I got through okay, and into the terminal…

I didn't have all that long to wait until the gate opened for my flight to New York.  At the gate when I handed my boarding card and passport to the woman it gave her some kind of error, then it worked, but she still had some trouble.  She got another gate agent to help her with what to do, and he asked me to step aside while he did a bunch of things, running the boarding card through the scanner and my passport through it and a tremendous amount of typing on the computer before he finally handed it to me and said "it's okay" and waved me into the waiting lounge…  I don't know what that was about, maybe the barcode from the Mumbai airport's computer wasn't compatible or something like that…  Weird…

For this flight I had an aisle seat next to a window seat in the very last row of the plane.  The woman with the window seat was an extremely large woman who needed to get an extension for the seatbelt to go around her bulk.  I was already sitting there when she came back and saw her seat and apologized to me about my having to be crammed in next to someone of her size.  And she did encroach into my space a bit, simply because she was so big...

Otherwise, the flight was fine.  I didn't sleep at all on it, just read stuff on my iPad most of the time.  Virgin Atlantic heats their planes more than other airlines, so I was comfortable the whole flight in short sleeves.

Once at JFK the Immigration line was slow, with only two agents handling the line for U.S. citizens, but no problems there.  Baggage claim was okay, I got my bags fine, and then the line at Customs was chaotic, with a single desk and one agent on each side of it, but no defined queue for people to get into.  When I got to an agent he just looked at my forms and said "welcome home," and passed me through to the exit.

I had to wait in line for a taxi but got one to Brooklyn.  That was $34 so I gave him $40 and he helped me with my bags to the door and all that…

So, both Jet Airways and Virgin Atlantic were fine airlines to fly with.  There service on board both of them was good, the meals were, well, airline food, but not bad.  Virgin Atlantic's food service had several rounds of snacks, that were good stuff, including high tea…

The Old Man in the Garage

A poor, old man sleeping in the car port under our kitchen.

About a year before I left India to return to the U.S. some creepy old guy started living in our building's garage.  I didn't know much about him, but Leena said she thought he was a servant of one of our neighbors, although he never seemed to do any work, just sit or lay in bed, half dressed, and stare at us when we came and went in our car.

This week, while visiting Leena here, he actually waved and smiled at me as we were getting into the car, the first time he's acknowledged my presence.  So I commented about him to Leena and she said that over the last year, while I've been in the U.S. she's talked to him a little, and related some of his story to me.

He's an old, uneducated man.  He worked almost his whole adult life at low paying, menial jobs, but spent almost every rupee he ever earned to send his sons to school and college so they'd get educated and live better lives than him.

Only now that they're grown up, better educated and far wealthier than he ever was, they don't want anything to do with him because they think he's too far "beneath" them, and don't want to be associated with an uneducated laborer.  They don't want their acquaintances to know where they came from.

So, now he's too poor to have his own home.  Somehow he knows our neighbor who was kind enough to let him live in his parking spot under our building (and that's directly under Leena's and my kitchen).  He works as a night watchman at a bank ATM somewhere nearby.

In her conversations with him she's found out his favorite food is fish, so when she has some extra, or left over fish dishes she shares them with him.

Sounds like he's a nice enough guy, but life has dealt him a less than ideal hand...

Another view of our garage, with the old man at the back...

Made it to India...

Whew, that was tough, stressful travels...

I started to get worried about the trip on Saturday when it started snowing in New York City, and a few hours before I planned to call a cab to drive me to the airport, the snow started to stick!

At 2:30pm I called the cab company and was told it would be half an hour before they could get a driver to me, because of the weather.  I'm glad I called early...  The driver showed up about 2:50pm and it took around an hour to get to the airport.

Check-in with Virgin Atlantic was easy, a fairly short line.  My bags were about half a kg over the weight limit, but they didn't charge me for the excess.  The woman said the flight might be up to an hour late due to the snow.  Getting through security was a breeze and I was in the terminal with some time to kill...

After sending a quick email to Leena, I found a place at the quiet end of the terminal to get a nice, pepperoni pizza.  Once finished with that I walked the length of it again, and vaguely noticed that the display over my gate didn't show anything, not the flight, just the generic background.

I dashed over to the nearest large display of flights to see if maybe the gate changed, but alongside my flight it said "CANCELED".  Canceled?  Gulp!

I dashed back to the gate and as I arrived the agent announced on the PA system that due to the snow the flight was canceled, the plane we were supposed to be on was unable to land in New York and had been diverted to Maine.  I asked her about connecting flights and she said they'd have to be rebooked, and asked me to wait patiently while Virgin Atlantic sorted everything out as best they could.  She said we'd be provided with hotel accommodations and all that overnight.

The waiting around by the gate got more full and more full as people waited around for the next news about our flight and the arrangements.  No new announcements were forthcoming, just an occasional one about  being patient while the airline worked out the arrangements.  They said they'd supply refreshments, but they never showed up.

After a while they finally announced they were ready for us, and said to go to the "domestic loft" (no one understood that last word) to get our baggage, then go to the ticket counter to make new arrangements for the bus to the hotel and rebooking of flights.  As a group we all went en-masse away. Some of us went up to what we thought "loft" meant, which was the ticketing and check-in area, and the closest we saw to the stairs was Virgin America, which matched the term "domestic" but we found out that was the wrong place...

Back down to a baggage claim area...  Our suitcases were alongside a baggage carousel and people were taking them away.  I went through it over and over, but didn't see my bags.  There were no Virgin Atlantic uniformed staff for assistance.  A few other people looked equally puzzled and didn't find their bags either, and after going through the rows of bags over and over and over, the carousel started again and more bags came, with an airport working hauling them off as they came, to throw them on the floor.  No idea why they didn't just let them roll around the carousel, as it was harder work to get them from the floor when they were stacked in a huge pile...

I got whacked in the face once by a taller man with a backpack who wasn't paying attention to where he was swinging it.  But he was gone before I could say something snarky to him about being careful.

With my bags in tow, and not ready to spend the money on a trolley, I wheeled them to an elevator and waited in line for my turn to go up.  Once I got to the Virgin Atlantic check-in area there were no uniformed staff, again, to help with where to go.  It wasn't at all obvious.  I saw a few other people with tags on their bags and carry-ons that looked like they'd already checked in, so I figured that was the line to wait in, especially as it went to the small ticket counter...

I was behind a friendly, older British lady and we chit chatted during the two plus hour wait.  Her husband came and went, going between possible places trying to make sure they got served in one spot or another.  The husband turned out to be the guy with the backpack, but once in line like that they were friendly.  They were on their way back from an Atlantic cruise, and she said the storm affected that, too, with huge waves and lots of people getting seasick.

So, after around two hours or so I finally got my turn at the ticket desk.  Travis was the agent who helped me out.  He first said he couldn't get me to London that night to make my connection and I'd be delayed by a day.  But then he didn't give up too easily...  Using both telephones and the computer whe worked my case for around 20-25 minutes.  The other agent was rebooking passenger after passenger on the Kuwait Airways flight to London that left at 9:45pm, filling out some forms, stamping them and saying "take this to Row 6 over there and hand it to the agent and they'll check you in..."

Travis eventually said he could get me to London that night, but was still working on the London to Mumbai route for me.  He had some trouble getting hold of Jet Airways to cancel my current booking, as no one was answering their phones.  He got one of his supervisors to get him an unlisted number, and got through and I heard him telling the Jet person about canceling my booking as "he's not gonna make the flight."

Finally he had everything ready for me, around 8:45pm.  He had me booked on the Kuwait Airways flight to London and a British Airways flight form London to Mumbai, but with a 12 hour layover in London.  He explained that he wasn't able to get me checked in all the way, or my bags, so in London I'd have to collect my bags at the baggage claim and then check them in again at British Airways.  Then he gave me the form he stamped and sent me to Row 6...

I found the Kuwait Airways check-in desk and handed my form to the agent who then weighed my bags and put the tags on them and handed me my boarding pass.  She sent me to the baggage security area where there was a massive line, both for Kuwait Airways and some other airline.  There someone in a uniform stopped me and then stopped other Kuwait Airways passengers saying he'd have to halt the whole line and get us through in order to make our flight.  He coordinated with another person and blocked the line of other passengers and led us as a group to drop our bags.

The next security was easy enough, and I got to the gate before boarding actually started.

Once on the plane we stayed on the ground for an hour and a half before taking off...

I slept badly on the flight, with an aisle seat and a somewhat annoying, older fellow on my right who kept banging his legs and arms into me.

The Kuwait Airways flight was shorter than my original Virgin Atlantic flight for the same route.

We made it to London early in the morning.  At Immigration I just told the agent there that I was only transiting through and had to get my bags and go check-in for another flight and he didn't give me any trouble.

After getting my bags I had no clue where to go in Heathrow...  I found the service desk who said I needed Terminal 5, and said the bus was faster than the train, but he'd have to carry my bags up the stairs to it.  So, I opted for the train (let's face it, with a 12 hour layover, who's in a rush?).  Only I got on the wrong train, the one that went between Terminal 4 and Terminals 1, 2 & 3.  After twice I figured out that one didn't go to Terminal 5 at all and switched to the parallel one...

At Terminal 5 I took my bags up the elevator to the check-in area and got in a short line for assistance.  The guy there booked me onto my flight, asking what kind of seat I wanted, with window seats still available.  I asked about my bags and he said it was too early to check them in, they would only accept them 3 hours before the flight.  I said I was hoping to dump them off, and directed me downstairs to a private company that'll store bags, for a fee that he didn't know.  He said "check your bags there and take the Underground into London, don't take a black cab, they're too expensive, that's what I reommend, that's what I'd do if I had a full day layover like you."

After checking my bags into the storage, I got some cold drinks at the Marks & Spencer, then struggled to get hold of Leena to tell her about the change in plans.  None of the pay phones in the terminal would accept my American credit cards, without the chip & pin combo.  Eventually I turned on the roaming on my iPhone and sent a couple of emails.

Then I got an Underground ticket and took the Piccadilly Line into London.  I kept falling asleep on the train, though...  It took about to get to Piccadilly Circus.

I enjoyed a few hours down there.  Walking around Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, Trafalgar Square, Green Park and down to Charing Cross and Embankment.  I didn't want to go too far from the Piccadilly Line as I had a plane to catch...  I had a good time, took a bunch of pictures with my newest lens (which I haven't offloaded from the camera yet).  I had too much acid reflux to stop to eat, which now I regret, I should've gotten a hamburger at Ultimate Burger anyway...

Around 3:15 or so I made it back to the Underground and headed out to the airport again.  I was still a bit early, but I didn't want any delays to prevent me from making my flight.  I stood up all the way on this train and still kept dozing off between most stops...

I got to Heathrow half an hour before the earliest I could check my bags in, so I sat down and wrote in my diary for a bit.  By then I was developing a migraine, too, which was unpleasant...

At 5pm I got up to check my bags in, and stood in the long, slow line...  Again I didn't get charged for my overweight bags, so that was good.  Heathrow security was easier than JFK and I was into the terminal to wait for my flight.

I spent about an hour and a half just walking up and down, up and down, trying to find a drinking fountain, but no luck.  Once I bought a bottle of water, though, then I sat down at the quietest spot I could find to relax and sip it, only to see the water fountain there...

Then some more walking and I found another spot in a busier place to sit and write in my diary.  After I ran out of things to write I kept dozing off...  I'd start to dream a bit, then my eyes would close then I'd shake awake a few minutes later.  I did that for about an hour before getting up to keep walking more...

The British Airways flight was good.  It wasn't crowded, so I had a window seat and the seat next to me was empty.  A British lady had the aisle seat...  I slept most of the flight, with my head against the wall by the window.

Once in India a bunch of flights came in at once, so the line at Immigration was the longest I've ever seen it out of all my entries.  They had the rope barriers up but the crowd extended way beyond the entrance to that.  Once in, the line was moving fairly steadily, but it was still long...

The immigration agent asked me if this was my first trip to India, and I told him it wasn't (as though he didn't already know) but when he asked when my last one was, I had to think about it...  Because I was living in India, not just visiting, I thought of my previous trips as "out of India" and my entries as "visiting India."  But I figured it out as 2009.

My bags came quickly at the baggage claim, but the customs officer directed me to the x-ray, not directly out of the terminal.  The only problem I had at the x-ray machine was getting my bags, since a crowd developed around and I simply couldn't get through to get both bags off the machine.

And then out for my ride back to Pune.

So, here I am...  It's great to be with Leena again after a year, and nice to be back in our flat in Pune.  It felt like coming home.

And I'm quite wiped out...  I dozed off in the shower, and had a rip roaring headache.  I went to bed around 9:30pm or something and slept till 1:30pm.  When I woke up my headache was reduced quite a bit, but still slightly there...  It's easing off more and more...

Memorial Day Weekend

Saturday…

Whew, it's pretty warm out.  After Leena and I took a cool shower then researched paneer pasanda on the web, got dressed and headed out.

I found two restaurants in Manhattan that listed paneer pasanda on their online menus, and one in Queens, but looking at photos of the one in Queens, I couldn't tell if it was a sit-down place, or take-out only.  I'm sure there's more, but not tied in with the GrubHub menu system...

 I decided to try the nearest one, on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village.  I took the R train from near my apartment.  I got lucky on the train, too, the R line was backed up and running behind schedule, the so the particular train I was on was going to "go express" and skip a bunch of stops, going over the Manhattan Bridge instead of the tunnels under the East River and jump up ahead of some other R trains to fill in the gap in front of them.  When it left DeKalb Avenue it was on the right track for me to see the artwork I've been trying to figure out which train to ride to see...  Cool...  It's two sets of underground cartoon animation, but only clearly visible from one track.

I got off the train at Prince Street, turned around a few times at the top of the stairs to orient myself and then headed up to Bleecker Street and over into The Village...

I almost didn't see Indian Taj because it was on the opposite side of the street, with a big truck blocking it while offloading...  But I did and went in.  It wasn't very crowded, only two couples at tables near the front, close to the buffet.  Since I was already sweating from the short walk, I asked for a table wherever it's coolest, so they seated me at private booth in the back.  I told the waiter I'd like to order from the menu rather than the buffet, so he came back with that...  I quickly found what I wanted, the paneer pasanda, and ordered that with two plain, sada naan.

There was a bit of a wait, and the booth was very close, with curtains running all the way to ceiling.  But across the restaurant, to the side was some nice Indian artwork to keep my eyes  occupied while I waited.

When he brought the dishes I was surprised.  I'd never seen paneer pasanda in a red gravy before, always white, and relatively dry...  But he set it down saying "paneer pasanda" then set down the bread bowl, saying "two orders of naan" so it's not like they got the order wrong...  And it was chunks of paneer, not thin layers with stuffing...  But now that I'm looking online again at their menu, the description is "cubes of cheese seasoned with authentic spices butter & cream, served with basmati rice" which is exactly what I got...

My eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach and I should've only ordered one naan, not two.  Especially since they were butter naan, despite ordering plain.  Same as last time, but maybe "plain" means "butter" here because that's the normal order or something.  The bill has always been for the price of plain, so maybe butter naan just has a lot more butter or something...  I couldn't finish it all, and in fact, I think I tried too hard because I was a bit uncomfortable from eating too much, rather than stopping at "fully satisfied."

I also think my capacity has gone down since coming to New York because I eat smaller meals all the time, so when faced with a big meal, I simply can't eat as much.  Not that that's a bad thing, just don't take me to any expensive all-you-can-eat places...

Overall, it's probably worth returning to that restaurant.  The dish was good, it simply wasn't what I expected, but I'm sure other stuff is probably good, too...

After I finished and paid I headed out to the streets again.  I walked up to Madison Square Park, near the Flatiron Building, where I found a park bench in the shade.  I spent an hour or so reading there on the iPad, occasionally sipping some of the water I carried with me, watching people go past, watching the squirrels and birds, etc...

While sitting there I cooled off and started to think maybe summer weather isn't so bad.  But once I got up again, I was uncomfortable in the heat before I was even out of the park...  Also, the allergies weren't so bad when I was sitting still, but once I got up to walk again, I was stuffed up, my eyes were running and I was sneezing...

I walked along 23rd Street, from the Flatiron Building almost to the river, and it's quite a busy street.  Lots of good looking restaurants to try there...  It also rained lightly, very lightly, unbelievably lightly, just a few drops from a single cloud overhead, for a few minutes till that one cloud blew over.  That single cloud didn't even block the sunshine...

Then down to the High Line again.  I walked the length of it, twice, but couldn't find a free seat in any shady spot because it was so crowded.  But at least I got to use the bathroom and the water fountain...

From there I walked over towards the river, because I saw an interesting ship at the dock, but couldn't get close, and the sun was awfully hot out there, despite the breeze blowing off the water. So, I headed back in on 15th Street, till 9th Avenue and then walked up 14th Street to Union Square.  I picked up a $1.50 cup of fresh apple cider from a vendor at the farmer's market there (the market is in Union Square Wednesday, Friday and Saturday almost every week of the year).

Then I took the subway home.  Back in Brooklyn I dropped my backpack off at the apartment, then went out once more to buy some allergy medicine Gary recommended, then out again to buy some groceries...

Now I'm in...  I took a long, cool shower that helped some.  I see I got some sun on my face, a light sunburn, not too bad...

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Sunday...

I slept in a bit later this morning, took a long, cool shower, a light breakfast, another cool shower and got dressed to head on out, with no particular plan in mind.

I took the R train and even into Manhattan couldn't decide where to get off and what to do, other than be outside...  It was blazing hot just walking from my apartment to the subway station two blocks away.  But not as hot as yesterday...  I was half considering getting off at 23rd Street and reading in Madison Square Park, or Times Square and doing who-knows-what, or Central Park and finding a spot to read, or taking it to Queens and check out Jackson Heights, or switching to an R or Q along the way and taking either of those to Astoria in Queens just to sight see...

In the end some other dude made the decision for me...  A one-man-band guy got on at the station before 57th Street and was playing a trumpet.  A trumpet!  A fucking trumpet!  In a subway car!  It was way too loud and hurt my ears like hell, so I got off at 57th Street, which is very close to Central Park.

So, I walked up to Central Park and figured I could use the bathroom there, except that it was packed and while shorter than the line for the ladies' room, there was still a line waiting to get into the men's room and I didn't feel like waiting.  So, I walked around the lower portions of Central Park a bit, stopped on a park bench in some slight shade, with the sun peeking through some of the trees and cooled off a little.  Even the fifteen minutes of walking before that were enough for me to get uncomfortably hot and sweaty.  It stank of horse manure there, but was kind of fun watching people walk by and take photos of some rather uninteresting rock formations.

Once I realized I wasn't going to get any cooler at that spot I got up and started walking.  I walked out of the park near the Plaza Hotel and the Apple Store, at 5th Avenue, then at 57th Street I cut across to 7th Avenue and caught the Q train down to 14th Street Union Square.

I got off there, in the mood for sushi at Shima in the East Village.  It wasn't a long walk from Union Square there, but it was pretty hot out.  I made my way mostly in the shade of buildings, and only out in the sun to cross streets.

Lunch was good.  None of the usual waitresses were working today, so the service was a little more chaotic.  There was one guy who I've seen before, I think behind the sushi bar, and he didn't seem too familiar with waiting tables, and another waitress who I've also seen before, but she didn't seem to be in the mood to wait tables or something.  Both were polite, but not efficient or cheerful as usual.  Still, the food was what I expected and afterwards I got two scoops of green tea ice cream.  The waitress also brought me a cup of green tea that I thoroughly enjoyed as well at the end.

From there I walked up to 23rd Street and across to Madison Square Garden.  It was jam packed with people and the first shady bench I found turned out to be too close to Jemmy's Dog Run, a place in the park for people to let their dogs run loose in a fenced in area (lots of New York City parks have these) so I got up and found another.  But it turned out to only be shady when the occasional cloud blew over, and when the sky was clear it was hot...  On the other hand, it was easier reading the iPad screen when the sun shone on it than when it shone on me.

I got up again and found another place, where I actually sat Saturday, and that was better.  I read there for a while, as well as watched people, squirrels and birds...  It was relaxing there...  Another middle aged couple eventually came and sat on the bench next to me and read for a long time (the guy had a book I've been thinking about getting...)

Eventually I was getting hotter and hotter as the breeze faded, plus I had to use the bathroom and there isn't one that I know of in Madison Square Park, but I checked on the internet anyway, and didn't see one listed.  So, I figured it was only 15 blocks up to 42nd Street and Grand Central Terminal, where there's also a shop, the New York City Transit Museum, with some artwork I keep planning on getting, but none of my wanderings have me ending up there at the end of the day.

So, I walked up.  By the time I got up there the sweat was rolling off me and my clothes were uncomfortably abrasive from sweating...  I used the bathroom but just missed the shop, which closed at 6pm, since I got there around 6:03pm or so...  And they're not open tomorrow because the holiday...  Ah well...

From there I wandered over to Bryant Park and sat in the shade to read for a little while, then got up and took the F train home from there.  In Brooklyn, instead of getting off at the 9th Street & 4th Avenue station, then walking uphill, I took it one more station to 9th Street & 7th Avenue, so the walk was downhill, and about the same distance.

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Monday, Memorial Day...

Well, today was relaxed and interesting...

For a change I decided to wear the Birkenstocks Leena's mother got me in New York in 2007, but without socks.  I can't wear my usual black ones without socks because the foot liner isn't suede so my feet make a horrible sounding and uncomfortable sucking sound with every step.

I got out the door around 11:30am or so, and dropped my rent check off at the mailbox on the way to the subway station, feeling like I left only partially dressed because of the missing socks...

I just missed an R train when I got down to the platform, but then an N train came, which doesn't usually stop at the 9th Street station.  But there was no room to sit in the first two cars, and I didn't feel like standing all the way to Manhattan, so I skipped it and waited for the next R train, a few minutes more.

What luck, too...  I couldn't make out the conductor's announcement clearly, but due to some incident, this particular R train was going to take a different route.  At the next station, DeKalb Avenue, it was on the opposite side of the platform from where the R usually goes.  And as luck would have it, on the track that goes past the artwork underground I keep wanting to see...

I got my camera ready and as we passed the lit up art I took a bunch of photos.  Unfortunately, I don't think they came out well, though.  It was more brightly lit inside the train, so it's mostly reflections off the window, and the window was fairly smudged, too...  Oh well...

After DeKalb Avenue in Brooklyn, this R train followed an F route through lower Manhattan, which is very strange.  I would've expected it to at least follow an N route, not an F.  One guy who'd been wearing headphones got confused when we exited the tunnel onto the Manhattan Bridge and asked "I was wearing headphones, what was that announcement?" so I explained it.

Then at one of the stations, where the R normally does not go, a woman looked at the signs outside and the map near my seat and asked, "I thought this was the train to Whitehall?" and I explained to her that there was some incident and this particular R train was taking a weird route, but that the conductor was still calling it an "R train to Queens".  I suggested she stay on it till it rejoined its regular route, then get on a Brooklyn bound R to get to Whitehall...  When we got to 34th Street at Herald Square, I told her that was the best place for her to make the switch...

I got off the train there, too...  I felt too stinky, sticky and sweaty to possibly go into Macy's and try on summer clothes, so I didn't.  I did check out the Manhattan Mall shopping mall, but it was a pretty lousy place, not much in the way of interesting stores (e.g. no music store!)

I made my way down the streets to Madison Square Park where I walked around looking for a cool, shady bench, preferably closer to the middle, but no luck and I got one near the north end of the park.

I took out my book and read a bit...  It was a book about travelers' tales from India.  After a little bit some scruffy looking, heavily tattooed elderly guy in a wheelchair, being escorted by a young woman, asked "are you planning a trip to India?"  I told him not right away, as I'd recently returned after about ten years there and was still thoroughly enjoying life back in the U.S. again...  We chatted a bit.  He'd never been farther from New York than New Orleans.  When I mentioned still being kind of new to New York City he asked me how I liked the park, and reminisced about how it's been cleaned up over the years.  He said when he used to be homeless he slept in that park for a couple of years.  Eventually he said, "well, you return to your book, I'm just going to close my eyes here in the sunshine for a few minutes..." and dozed off...

After they left some college students came.  One was a big, muscular black guy who took off his shirt a couple of times to flex his muscles and show off quite a few tattoos, the other was a long haired, fat white guy with a heavy metal t-shirt, spiked leather wristband, studded boots...  Once they settled down they started drilling each other on their anatomy homework, about various joints in the body, which are unilateral, bilateral, trilateral, some stuff about the thumb joints and things...  It sounded like they were preparing for a test or something in medical school...

I started getting hungry and got up to buy a pretzel from a vendor at the corner of the park (the line for the Shake Shack again had around 75-100 waiting, so I wasn't going to do that, though I really want to try it sometime).  When I returned I'd lost my bench...

So I took another bench nearby.  After a couple of bites of my relatively unsatisfying pretzel, a woman on the next bench asked "is that pretzel any good?"  I told her it was only mediocre, not the worst I've had, but not really very good.  She mentioned that she'd bought a cup of beer from the food fair across the street and she knew she shouldn't have it in park, but wasn't causing any trouble...

We ended up chatting for another hour or more, mostly about New York City, parks, computers, local food, dog walking and India.  She mentioned going to college in the mid-70's so I guess she fifteen years older than us, or so.  She took a year off then to live in India, staying mostly in villages to get "the authentic Indian experience" as she put it.  She was curious for my descriptions of how India has changed since she was there.

She mentioned she used to be a writer, and had written a book about New York City's parks, but is now a professional dog walker to the wealthier people in Manhattan.  At various times other people walking dogs greeted her when passing by, and she'd point them out as another professional dog walker.  She said she has keys to apartments where many owners don't even know her last name, she's just "that weird lady with the green flour on her hat" that their building doormen recommend as a dog walker...

She was pleasant and friendly to chit chat with.  But a little weird, in a not-quite-right manner...  She was totally paranoid of the government and kept pointing out people in the park who were covert government agents.  At one point a couple of guys came a bit closer than normal to photograph some squirrels that were actually being a bit cuter than normal, right behind the bench she was sitting on, then the guys drifted off...  A little later she asked if I remembered the two black guys with the camera, and I said I did, but not that they were black or anything, just a couple of other tourists paying more attention to squirrels.  She told me they were government agents and on the way over they'd flashed her with a "laser refractor" to hurt her eyes, and the squirrel photography was just their cover, to look like tourists...

She asked if I ever read science fiction novels, which I do.  She said writers like Heinlein and Bradbury weren't just speculating on future things, like government control of citizens, but they were actually involved in it and had first hand knowledge.  I asked if she'd ever read any books by Philip K. Dick, but she didn't recognize the name and agreed to look for some of his.  Some good Philip K. Dick novels should blow her mind...

Around 4pm, I still hadn't eaten more than a few bites of my pretzel, that had gone totally stale and I didn't want any more of it, and I figured I should be heading back to Brooklyn, do laundry and all that...  As I was walking away, she called me to come back for a moment, then she gave me advice on buying a pair of Birkenstock sandals with a strap at the back because she said I was walking funny...

From Madison Square Park at 27th Street I walked down to Union Square, then across 14th Street to catch the F train back to Brooklyn.  I like returning on the F because I can take it one stop further and my walk home is all downhill.