We decided to beat the high prices of Fifth Avenue and the assorted high streets of Manhattan and headed upstate to Woodbury Common. Google it. Seriously. It’s mind boggling. 

We got up around 7am and walked the four blocks to the bus pick up point. 

Our first bout of NYC cold with the cold wind made for a chilly walk. Suitcase in hand (pretty much everyone does it so you don’t feel or look like a dick wheeling a suitcase around an outlet centre – in fact the dicks are the people with dozens of bags on the way home who knock you in the head – more of that later) the bus arrived on time and Terri our driver promised us a great trip. 

Great, well smooth, efficient and scenic definitely, so I suppose as bus trips go, great is apt. We hadn’t caught the bus home yet though… Again, more later. 

We arrived at around 9.30 and started our wander around the more then 300 shops. For folks back home think DFO times ten. The major stores like Nike, Levi’s, Saks, Gap, Guess etc are massive. Even the boutique stores were big. 

We walked here and store. Funnily we were also texting folks back home securing discounts for them. You know who you are!! We also picked up some great gifts. 

Our big, light and easy to move bag was slowly, well quickly putting on weight. It would grow to baby whale size by days end. 

We had a break for a burger in the middle of the day and enjoyed the gorgeous sun. After sun sustenance we were ready for the afternoon onslaught. Anne Taylor, Banana Republic, Guess, Aldo, Michael Kors were all on our list. True religion jeans also was fun. Ever bought jeans for a friend. Here’s hoping they fit!  

Afternoon turned to evening as we thought about dinner. 

At the end of the day it’s an exhausting experience. The Fitbit suggests 15 000 steps. Our suitcase came in handy. We wanted to save unnecessary waste of bags, boxes etc. Although one of the shoe shops demanded we took our shoe boxes with us. We suggested recycling them and she said know, but offered to squash the boxes for us, then put them in a bag so we could throw them away. Argh. The waste. Everywhere else was fine with us not taking bags. 

At the end of the day we had Applebees for dinner and a couple of big appetizers. Very tasty. 

We made our way to the bus queue. A dozen or so tired shoppers were in front of us and the line quickly grew behind us. We heard accents and languages from around the world as we waited for the bus, now running 20 minutes late. It was 7.15pm. Russian, German, Dutch, a few Aussies and a couple of poms. Most people had suitcases, which we packed neatly in the bus storage area. The ones, let’s call them wankers, without suitcases had between four and ten paper/plastic shopping bags packed full of the days purchases. Mardi and I, organised as always, neatly pack our bag in the bus storage and calmly show our ticket and hop on the bus. Other folks with suitcases do the same. All smooth sailing. Then the wankers start to pile on. I sitting the aisle in a bus. One of those greyhound type touring buses. Skinny aisle and tiny over head lockers. One wander on my left was trying to shove stuff in the overhead locker. Imagine squashing a mattress into a microwave oven. “It’s OK mate, sure use my head as a bracing board to help you out”. He gives up and walks to the back of the bus and takes up 23 seats. 

Wanker number two tries to carry his seven bags over everyone’s head. The bags hong down about three feet and the gaps between heads and overhead lockers is about 12 inches. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. 

We survive the onboarding and settle into for the journey home. Jesus, yes our driver, welcomes us to the ride of our lives. He assures us riding him is the best ride we will ever have. His bus is the best, his driving fantastic and we should feel free to applaud him at any time during the ride home. He then says he’s turning the lights out and we can do whatever we want, remembering his ride is the best. Ok then. 

We snooze a little, listen to some music, read, chat on the way home. Jesus drags everyone back to him as Manhattan comes into view. It’s NYC everyone, that’s where we are headed. The lights of the Big Apple magically appear on our left as Jesus says look left. He’s as mad as a cut snake, but knows his stuff. He then regales us with stories of NYC, including exacting driving times to our destination,which we actually have no idea where he’s dropping us – he just keeps calling it the great NYC. The best. The cool place. He then calls it the city of tips and tells us how entertained we’ve been and how much we should tip him. We have. It was weirdly funny and indecipherable most of the time over the bus PA. he pulls up in a tunnel and says, that’s it folks, rides over. Tip and hop off. Ok.

We let the wankers get off, ducking in our seat and eventually alight to retrieve our bag. Some dude is crawling around in the bag well looking for his bag crawling over everyone else’s. “Mate, why don’t you hand me some bags”. No! Ok then. Mardi points out our bag and we stand and watch to let the crowd thin. The sidewalk is about wide enough for one person, let alone the forty people trying to get forty bags in a space designed for three pigeons and a cat. A lady tries to push past me. “Where you going”. She points at the throng. “Not happening ma’am”. The crowd starts to thin, suitcase diver is still crawling around and we spot an opportunity to grab and run and take it. We pop out of the throng like a newborn and work out where we are. We follow the crowd, down an escalator and into the subway station as the Port authority. An area we’ve rarely visited, but Mardi reads some signs as I suggest the wrong way to go. We follow the signs. We make our way to the 42nd street subway by the tunnels and pop up in Times Square. No mean fest remembering I’m dragging a baby whale sized case behind us.  

Mardi pops into Starbucks for hot chocolates as I wrestle the case the last few metres. The lifts better be working. 

One lift is and I finally make it home and sit down. Exhausted. But a fun day with the usual NYC surprises.


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