Shall we do lunch?

In Palm Beach?

Yes please.  Because, thankfully this is confined to the more northerly states.  Here in Florida today it was around 70F, pleasantly warm, we thought.

So, after an orientation tour and running a couple of errands on the way, we headed to the ocean.

 

All looked so placid, it was hard to imagine that a few hundred miles north of here, the snow was falling and another Winter storm had blown in.

Here on Worth Avenue – the Rodeo Drive of Palm Beach – life was good.  As we walked along, we scrutinised the people passing by; the face lifts, the reconstructions and the toupees.  One young woman walked towards us looked rather different, somewhat eye-catching, even, and we remarked on the card she was carrying ostentatiously.  I wasn’t brave enough to take her photograph as she walked towards us but waited until she’d passed us by and turned around to snap.  There she is above, with the blonde ponytail, dressed in black.

She was working as a model, advertising a jewellery store and yes, she was dripping with the stuff!

We were heading to Taboo for lunch and going inside, we entered the world of the smart people; the ladies who lunch and the elderly elite of the town.  The most ridiculous toupee so far was to be seen on an adjacent table, too, which proved quite entertaining.

Then, who should come in and “work the tables” but the model we’d see earlier.  Sure enough, she was advertising “jewellery that accents your style” and presumably, they sell purple plastic handbags too.  I thought it a bit of an imposition that, whilst sitting and enjoying a relaxing (and delicious) lunch in a great restaurant, someone is permitted to solicit for business.  First time I’ve seen anything like it.

After lunch, we explored the small piazzas and courtyards which could be accessed from Worth Avenue.  We strolled into a rather interesting art gallery where we were fascinated by the work of Carole A Feuerman, who creates “hyper-realistic” sculptures.  Several of these pieces were on show there and we spent some time admiring the detail and learning more about the artist. Oh, and I nearly forgot, there was an original Andy Warhol Mao print on the wall, too!

Strolling back to the car, we appreciated the attractions of this small corner of Palm Beach.  How lovely to come here for ”the season”, to escape the winter up north and to spend the days pottering about amongst the privileged few.

By the time we left, the weather was coming in a little and though we stopped for a photo across the Intra-Coastal Waterway, we couldn’t linger.  I had an appointment to keep.

Nevertheless, I had to have a good look at this place

Situated on a small site in between the waterway and the ocean, this private and very exclusive club was quite the landmark.  As we passed the airport a little further along the road, the private plane on the tarmac suggested that the man himself was in residence.  Maybe another hairstyle to prompt a conversation?

Anyway, it was approaching 3pm and a decision had to be made at the nail salon down the road.

In just over half an hour, Kim had worked magic on my care-worn and rather battered nails, applying Nex-Gen expertly whilst we sat and chatted.

Nice work, Kim!

oh, and just while I think of it

I know, I won't get any sympathy (nor do I expect it!) but, dear me, there must be a better way of processing entry to a country than that which we experienced in Miami, yesterday. After what must surely rank as one of the longest walks from plane to terminal, there was the most enormous queue in the immigration hall, snaking up and down through those tensioned barriers. At the front was a bad tempered, shouty woman directing people to one of more than thirty passport check desks. We were amongst the first from our flight to reach this stage and yet still needed almost an hour of shuffling along, up and down, before we could be barked at with instructions for the fingerprint machine and be welcomed to America (not that those words we uttered). Whist we waited, the queue became longer and longer because people were arriving so much more quickly than they could process them.

With a sigh of relief, we made our way to carousel six, where all the luggage from our flight had already been offloaded and placed on the floor next to one of a dozen conveyor belts. A 747 carries a lot of luggage, for sure, and seeing it laid out like that confirms that many suitcases are pretty similar. Heaven help anyone with an anonymous black bag, because after the turmoil of the arrivals hall, believe me, people were not hanging around at this stage of the process. They had already seen - and a navigated their way through - further queues to reach the massed collection of luggage that was piled on the floor. The baggage hall was noisy, filled with hundreds - thousands, maybe - of people searching for their stuff, finding their way and having collected it all, of deciding which queue to join. Crying children? Oh yes. Tired and cranky adults? Plenty of them, too. In the midst of it all, we came across a small, quiet and bewildered woman, disoriented after a long flight through many time zones, looking for her husband, who had gone off looking for their things. I hope they both found what they were looking for!

I know that America doesn't have the exclusive rights to long queues at immigration. Heathrow can be similarly challenged at times. But as planes get bigger and more of us are travelling; as we confirm and re confirm our travel arrangements and personal details ahead of time, surely there must be a better way? Why not have individual immigration desks for each flight arrival, so that the lists of passengers can be checked against the flight muster (and the details the airline has recorded already?) Those long corridors would be better - cooler - places to wait, wouldn't they?

All I can say after yesterday's experience -probably the worst we've endured - is that it's a good job we love to travel and are able to put such things to the back of our minds and get on with the fun bits. They began the minute we saw Allan and Jane there on "the other side"!

At the end of a very long day

We were up at 6am, checked in by 7.30 and in the air by 10.45. After ten and a half hours in the air, we landed at just gone 1.30pm. We've spent the afternoon chatting, unpacking and settling into the luxurious lakeside home of our sweet friends, who welcomed us with a traditional Thanksgiving dinner this evening.

It's now 9.20pm and we are both calling it a day. Or, would that be a day and a half?
Goodnight from Calabasas, California x

One last day in the city

I promised the night time shots of Manhattan, seen from Williamsburg on Monday night.

As always, the best pictures are in my head, but these will do for now.

Jordi will need to remind me exactly which three bridges are in this photograph.  I know the one in the foreground is Williamsburg Bridge, but the other two?  (See her comment below for the answer!)

Before wandering down to the waterfront with our friends (of both the human and canine variety) we’d enjoyed a feast at Fette Sau.  It doesn’t look a very prepossessing place, does it?  But outside appearances don’t give any clue to the great food, the interesting set up inside or, for that matter, the great company we had!  Not a good place for vegetarians, though!

Our flight home wasn’t till late evening, so we made the most of another beautiful day and headed downtown to Madison Square and took yet more photos of the Flatiron.  As if I could walk past without taking another one…and another!  I’m not sure about the bird artwork there in the front – made entirely from nails, it was causing quite some interest when we were there for sure.

I was on a mission to visit Eileen, having seen a jacket I liked in the Times Warner Centre but which wasn’t in my size.  Thoughtful staff called the 5th Avenue store and set one aside for me so we were there at opening time to give it a try.  I guess the outcome is clear from the photograph!

This was to be a day of accomplishing several missions, the next one being the HBO shop to buy a T shirt for our Game of Thrones fan.  “My Mind is my Weapon” seemed a pertinent logo to choose.

Across the avenue to Kinokuniya, in search of a particular pen, I had to stop and peruse the craft books where this interesting scarf/shawl/cowl caught my eye.  Nice!

One last mission – seam binding (don’t ask!)  Following the advice of a customer in the first shop I called in, we headed for Pacific Trimming.  Oh. My. Goodness.

Do you need a zip?  Look no further!

Of course, there’s always the other wall too…

I got my seam binding, no problem.  Super cheap, too.  Yes, you’ll see it here on my blog in due course, I’m sure.

So, all missions accomplished, we had a couple of hours to have some fun.  First, the bus to the Guggenheim, because we’d heard about an exhibition of Japanese art from Aaron last night.

Actually, the art didn’t do a great deal for us (and to be fair, thinking back, Aaron didn’t actually say that it had done a great deal for him, either!) but the building itself is a star and these plastic bags of liquid suspended in the atrium were quite fun.

Though my hero didn’t think the yellow liquid worked as well as the others.  I have no idea why ;-)

Our very last stop was Grand Central Station, where there was a small exhibition in the Transit Museum.

Unclaimed items of lost property had been collected and documented over the years and displayed here in an altogether charming and sweetly nostalgic way.

“Baby arrived just in time to support Roosevelt” announces the telegram addressed to Grandfather and Grandmother Byrne.

I am always fascinated by the platform entrances here, so different from a British station and so enclosed, it’s possible to visit the station and never see an actual train!

The poster marking the Centennial Celebrations said it all.

The photograph I took as we walked back up the street to our hotel captured two all time favourites there in one shot. 

Very grand, indeed.

We collected our bags from the hotel and headed off to the airport.  What a great weekend we had!

Still in New York

Well, no, not really.  I have to go to work today, but looking through my photos I found I still have a few to share.

Don’t you love the effect of the sunlight on the building opposite our hotel room window, seen through the white cotton blind?  I do!

Then of course, if I’m at 14th St station on the subway, I’ve got to take a photo (or few) of Life Underground

Fortunately, since we had Metrocards, we didn’t have to squeeze under the barrier!

In Williamsburg, there was this handy chair placed thoughtfully on a streetcorner.  Curious, n’est-ce pas?

Of course, the late afternoon/early evening view from there was terrific.

(wait till you see the night time shot)