Day 10: A black cat, its Friday the 13th

A perfectly sunny day dawned for Friday the 13th. We planned a trip downtown to walk around, with a view to visiting Bosie Tea Parlour again. 

While Mardi was getting ready I went for a quick stroll to Times Square. 

The mayhem, madness, noise and absurdity of this area never ceases to amaze me. From the ultimate in consumerism, massive M&M store, Toys R Us to life sized Disney characters by the dozen scamming tourists for a dollar a photo. From the hot dog and peanut stands to the ticket sellers flogging tickets to bus rides, walking tours, comedy shows and everything in between. Fighting head down betwixt the myriad tourists are the locals – obvious by their lack of camera and adept skill at weaving effortlessly through the buzzing crowd. 

I stood and listened to the heaving crowd. The dozen languages of tourists pointing, clicking, chatting and gazing in amazement. The beat of the drum of the begger at 43rd street rang out, what a talent. The whistle of the traffic cop at 41st street. The strum of the guitar of the naked cowboy at 44th street. Each sound washing over the other in the cacophony that is the cross roads of the universe. 

The massive bill boards advertising everything and anything, the sheer size of these billboards is inexplicable.

They pulse and ebb and flow in a matrix of pixels and Colours in a 360 degree display of non stop light.  

I walk from 41st to 44th street again, slowly, weaving, cautiously in an attempt to catch an interesting photo, angle, shard of light. I sit for a while, a lady asks me for directions to Grand Central. I describe to her how to get there, gee, I almost feel like a local. I get up and walk down 44th street to our hotel and return home. 

Mardi is about ready to go so we leave and make our way to Prince street in SoHo and wander the streets and browse the shops squeezed into the small buildings in this area. 

We pass Dominique Ansel Bakery, famous for Cronuts. We queue in the hope of scoring one of these famous delights, bus las, they are sold out. An Asian couple behind us are as disappointed. We chat outside the store and agree arriving at 8am would be the best way to score a Cronut. We laugh together and go our separate ways. 

We pass the Apple store, built into an old fire station, Guess, with a small street frontage but a shop as long as the block. Chanel with its $10,000 watches in the window, Riccis, a discount cosmetic store, Mardi pops in. Tibetan rugs, to fine chocolate, arts and crafts to fine glad ties featuring dog statues only. The choice is unlimited. We eventually wend our way to Morton Street.

Bosie tea awaits. We arrive to a packed tea Parlour and are seated at the bar. Our familiarity with the menu and ordering gets us recognized by the manager. He says welcome back. We settle in and enjoy our tea service. We are moved from the bar to the lounge area – a privilege for us as regulars. We enjoy another pot of tea each and simply sit and soak in the space, the tranquility. Bosie tea is the polar opposite of Times Square. Not a tourist in sight. This quiet little tea Parlour is off the tourist map, nestled in the crisscrossing and confusing streets of downtown Greenwich villiage. 

After a couple of hours we reluctantly get up and walk the short distance to the subway and catch a train to Bryant Park. We walked up 6th avenue to Lord and Taylor, a department store where I picked up some of my favorite fragrance. The lights outside Lord and Taylor were pretty full on, and as we walked under them we took some photos before making our way home, snapping another shot of the Empire State Building, which was bather in white tonight. 

We walked home threw the throng of Times Square, Mardi popped into Sephora as I headed home. 

Another great day in NYC. A chilly weekend is forecast as we planned a few indoor activities, before the weather warms up again next week.

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