Fodor's Travel Talk Forums - Trip Report Maitaitom's New York City Subway Safari

DAY TWO: Parks And Recreation, Perth Control, The Village Stompers, In The Garden Of Eden, The First Skyscraper, A Trip To Eataly, Good Morgan, Great Expectations, Where’s Cary Grant, Book ‘Em, Glad We Didn’t Stay Here, Deafening Dinner and Charlie Makes His Move

Unlike most of our previous trips, we had made a vow that we would sleep in a little later on this vacation. Thanks to the peaceful room, I didn’t meander down to the breakfast room until about 8:15, and by the time I arrived our early birds, Kim and Mary, were already engaged in a conversation with two couples from Australia.

As I perused Kim’s spreadsheet for the day, I noted that it included a lot of walking and a lot of parks, I overheard one of the couples mention they were from Perth.

“I used to date a girl who lives in Perth now with her husband,” I said. Since Perth has slightly less than two million people, the odds were slim they would know them, but sure enough when I mentioned their names they said, “Oh yeah, we know Ray and Judy.” Fortunately Judy had not ever mentioned my name, so I was safe for the week. The more I travel, the more the world seems like a smaller place.

After conversing with the Aussies for a while, Tracy came down and the four of us were off on our first day exploring the Big Apple. It would be the last time I had any feeling in my feet until the following Tuesday.

First we walked past Jackson Square, and within about 15 minutes I was humming a tune by The Village Stompers, which seemed normal since we were not only in Greenwich Village but entering Washington Square (a song made famous by a New York City group, The Village Stompers, in 1963. Useless information dominates my life).

We stopped and said hello to a Corgi and its master, which reminded Tracy and me of our two Corgis who were manipulating their pet sitter for treats at about the same time.

There is a beautiful fountain in Washington Square park and the Washington Square Arch on the north edge of the park reminded us a little of the Arch Of Constantine in Rome. The park was beautiful on this crisp autumn day, and Mary’s nephew who attends NYU met us there, so we chatted with him for a bit. However, taskmaster Kim had three-dozen other things for us to see (he is still getting back at me for the Prague Death March of 2008 that nearly killed the troops on Day 1 of that trip), so the conversation was brief.

We happened by the Forbes Galleries, and once we found it was free, we ducked in. This wasn’t even on our list, and it doesn’t take very long to go through it. If you’re near there, you might want to stop by, but as for me, when someone asked me how I liked it, I said, “I’m glad it was free.”

Kim added that the combination of Southwest and Cubist art was not for him either, and that, although he usually is intrigued by photography, that part of the gallery was not particularly interesting either, although a photo of the Duchess of Windsor did catch his eye.

With so many places to attempt to visit while in NYC, Kim asked where we wanted to go to next. I saw the Empire State Building in the distance, and since this was Tracy and Mary’s first visit to NYC, I said, “Let’s head in that direction,” pointing to the famed building.

Walking along 14th Street, out of the corner of my eye a place that would be fit for Adam and Eve came into focus. Sure enough, it was The Garden of Eden Gourmet, a grocery store that overwhelms your senses as soon as you step in their produce department. The displays were dazzling, and I wished we had this store in Los Angeles.

Then we walked a short distance to Union Square, where off to the side we saw an elephant standing on its trunk. Not a real elephant, of course, but one created by Spanish artist Miguel Barcelo. This very large bronze sculpture of an elephant balancing on the tip of its trunk certainly grabs your attention.

The next thing that caught our eye was standing at 175 Fifth Avenue. We actually walked right by it, but as she turned around after crossing the street, Tracy said, “Look, it’s the Flatiron Building.”

This groundbreaking, triangular skyscraper finished in 1902 reminded me of my high school geometry class, but before I could say hypotenuse, I thought I heard Tracy exclaim, “Hey, let’s go to Italy.”

I said, “But we just got to New York City. Let’s think about going to Italy another time.”

“Not Italy, you idiot,” Tracy said endearingly (I think). “Eataly, the Mario Batali place that’s right across the street.”

Tracy had mentioned this place at 200 5th Avenue on the flight over, and I had remembered some mixed reviews on Fodor’s. However, my first thought when walking inside Eataly was, “Wow.” And then “Wow” again…about ten more times.

It’s a store. It’s a restaurant. It’s a bar. It’s a deli. It’s a wine and olive oil store. It’s a produce paradise. Most of all, it’s an experience. We all agreed it was one of the best uses of space we had seen in an establishment.

The center region downstairs (La Piazza sans Mike) has cool, rectangular, marble tables and bar counters where people can consume prosciutto di parma, prosciutto cotto, oysters, pasta, fresh soup, sandwiches and more.

If it’s Italian, odds are you can find something here for lunch, or if you lived in New York, something to buy to take home to eat.

We wanted to go upstairs and check out their rooftop restaurant, Birreria. On a Tuesday at 11:30, the restaurant upstairs was nearly vacant. There were great views of the Flatiron Building and other NYC buildings, and since it was nearly noon, we plopped down at the bar.

Kim and Mary tried some of their unfiltered and naturally carbonated Cask Ales, while Tracy and I opted for glasses of Prosecco. The bartender was nice and kept plying us with samples of their different beers, just what we all needed at noon on a Tuesday. They also had a great 80s music mix going, so this was a terrific place to get a load off for a bit.

As we would discover, the later you arrive, the more crowded Eataly and Birreria would get, so we hurried downstairs after our early libation consumption and grabbed a couple of large Prime Rib paninis with roasted potatoes that we all shared that came out to about 20 bucks a couple.

We shared a standing table with Chris from Brooklyn who just started yapping with us with a machine-gun delivery on places to see in New York City. He was one of the many great characters we met throughout the week, and by the time our stay was over we all agreed that the people in New York City were among the nicest and friendliest we had met anywhere in the world on our travels.

Two suggestions for those that visit Eataly: Get there by 11:30 on a weekday. It really started filling up about an hour later. We visited again on Saturday and it was incredibly crowded about 1 p.m., and just about every sit down restaurant had about a 30 – 90 minute wait. Eataly made our Top Seven in NYC List at the end (Top Five didn’t seem enough).

Back outside, we walked by the Empire State Building on the way to The Morgan Library. In hindsight, since there was no line to go up, I wish we had spent the $21 and gone to the top, but what the hell, I need some excuse to come back. I also realized at this point that my feet and legs had not experienced this much walking in quite some time. The puppies were beginning to bark, and we still had a few places left on the first day agenda.

We (slowly) walked up the steps to The Morgan Library & Museum (225 Madison Ave. @ 36th Street). After paying our 15-dollar tickets, the four of us strolled over to pick up our free audio guides. Lisa at the desk then said the fateful words, “By the way there is a ‘Dickens at 200’ exhibit you can see, also.”

That’s all I needed. “It was the best of exhibits. It was the worst of exhibits,” I said. Much to Kim’s dismay, Lisa laughed, thus I quickly followed up with, “I have Great Expectations for this exhibit.” After a few more terrible puns, Kim, Mary and Tracy dragged me away. “At least I didn’t say he lived in a Bleak House,” I added. By then, the other three had their audio guides turned on and pretended I was part of the Occupy Wall Street Movement.

The collection of John Pierpont Morgan is truly amazing, and the audio guide provided some great tales to go along with the visuals. The first room is where Morgan gathered a group of bankers, locked the doors and persuaded them to save the banking system in 1907. It also looked like a cool room to sip a martini.

In the middle foyer, there was a George Washington Life Mask (our first president definitely had a large head), a hand written poem by Abraham Lincoln and a document with signatures of some of the American Revolution’s most prominent figures.

The Library, complete with three-story walnut bookshelves is quite impressive. The audio guide also said that Morgan had not one, but three, Gutenberg Bibles, one that was out for display.

After seeing those rooms, and checking out the Dicken’s exhibit (with a Charles Dickens's manuscript of A Christmas Carol), we had a choice to make; go back to the hotel or keep on going. Being an idiot and ignoring my aching legs, I said let’s keep going.

Our next stop was Grand Central Station. I wanted to don some sunglasses and pretend I was Cary Grant trying to buy a ticket in North By Northwest, but by the time we reached Grand Central, I just settled on some photos and a place to lean (Mary and Tracy quickly brought out the Purell and said the words we lived by all week, “Don’t touch that!”

I didn’t know the Chrysler Building was so close, so before we entered Grand Central, we got photos of that famed structure, too. It was only three o’clock, and we had seen a lot, but not everything for the day. Not yet. This intrepid crew had more places to visit and more muscles to strain.

Gathering my fourth wind, I ducked in The Campbell Apartment to see if we wanted an afternoon cocktail. After seeing the prices of the cocktails, we said that we were part of the “99%” and departed for our next stop, the Reading Room at the New York Public Library.

I was then able to pull out my favorite fifth grade joke.

Q: “What’s the tallest building in New York City?”

A: “The Public Library. It has more stories.” True to the library regulations, my three companions stayed silent.

Unfortunately, there were about 200 stairs to reach the Rose Main Reading Room, and my grunting as I climbed them came perilously close to breaking the Library “Quiet Rule.” I was sure they would throw the book at me.

The Rose Reading Room was worth the climb (well it is now upon further review). This beautiful room was restored in the late 1990s and has beautiful murals on the ceiling.

Before heading back to the Chelsea Pines, our group had one last stop, Bryant Park. “Is there anything left on our list after today?” I asked Kim facetiously. Then I remembered that tomorrow we would climb the Statue of Liberty.

As we reached Bryant Park, I had hoped that I had not overdone my first day of real activity in more than a year. Another lovely space in the heart of NYC, Bryant Park looked like it would be a nice place to hang out and smell the flowers. There were a number of people out on this graying afternoon (the last clouds we would see on our trip).

It was a little after four that the words that saved the trip for me were uttered. I don’t remember who said them (it might even have been me). “Let’s take the subway back.” At this time (Kim told me later), Tracy and Mary were a little concerned about my well being, since I guess I looked beat. As I stated throughout the trip, being beat beats being dead any day!

To get to the subway, we walked through Times Square. Upon seeing the clutter and mass of people, Tracy said, “I’m sure glad we didn’t stay over here. It reminds me of Vegas.”

Finding the subway, we walked down the stairs and made the decision to buy the $29 per person Weekly Pass (a good decision since we became subway regulars for the remainder of the week).

Fortunately, the subway let us out ½ block from the Chelsea Pines. When we told our friend at the front desk all we had seen on our first full day, he shook his head as if to say, “You guys are nuts.” Of course, he was right, but by the end of the trip, all the front desk guys wanted to know how many things we had knocked off during the day. It became kind of a running joke.

After a shower, we all shared a bottle of a wine in the breakfast room, and headed a few blocks to our 8 p.m. reservations at Piccolo Angolo, an Italian restaurant that had garnered some rave reviews on Zagat.

Piccolo Angolo was jam packed at 8 p.m., which is always a decent sign. I’ve been to rock concerts that weren’t as loud as this place. Through the noise, we selected our dishes, and although the food was good enough, there was nothing really special about what we ordered. The pasta dishes were good (I had a nice pesto gnocchi), and the house red was pretty cheap.

We saved our eardrums and turned down dessert (proportions of dinner were more than ample). Back at the hotel, we bid good night to Kim and Mary, and suddenly our little friend Charlie appeared at our feet. Charlie and Tracy spryly climbed the stairs while I slowly trudged after them.

As we opened our door, Charlie ran in and jumped on our bed, ready to spend the night. Having not brought our litter box from home, we had to gently remove him after about 15 minutes of continuous petting and purring (oh, Charlie got some of that, too).

Tracy asked how I was feeling after a full day of walking the streets of NYC, and I admitted I was a tad nervous about how I would feel in the morning. The reason for my apprehensiveness was due to the fact that the four of us had 9 a.m. tickets for the Statue of Liberty, and in an overly optimistic moment last summer, I purchased the tickets that allowed us to climb to the crown of Lady Liberty.

At this moment in time, I didn’t know whether my tired legs would be able to handle that stress. My concern over the predicament of the following morning was short-lived as I was asleep about six seconds after my head hit the pillow. I wouldn’t have to worry about climbing 350 or so stairs for about seven hours.

 DAY THREE: Assault On Battery, Statue Of Limitations, Crowning Achievement, The Agony Of Da Feet, They're Coming To America, Hamilton's Buried Here, Changing The Course Of History, Up Against The Wall Street, Living The Hi-Line, and Going Green

After writing today's installment, I'm amazed I'm around to write today's installment.

 DAY THREE: Assault On Battery, Statue Of Limitations, Crowning Achievement, The Agony Of Da Feet, They're Coming To America, Hamilton's Buried Here, Changing The Course Of History, Up Against The Wall Street, Living The High Line, and Going Green 

I awoke early with sore feet, sore legs and a slight hangover, not exactly the perfect trifecta for climbing the Statue of Liberty. Tracy was just wondering why I had scheduled a wake-up call so early on vacation.

If I have a personality disorder…let me start over. One of my biggest personality disorders is something I call, “I hate to be late syndrome.” My therapist might say I cope with this affliction by “grossly overcompensating.” Today would be no different.

I had politely asked Kim, Mary and Tracy to be ready by 7:15 so we could be at Battery Park early for our 9 o’clock cruise to the Statue of Liberty. They’ve seen me beg and grovel before (it ain’t pretty), so they immediately said “yes” when asked. It beat my other plan, which was just to camp out in the park overnight. I thought we could be the “Alternative Occupy Wall Street,” but the group eschewed that idea immediately.

Even the good folks at the Chelsea Pines were not awake this early for coffee, and Charlie, who was outside our door when we exited, took one look at us, shook his head and curled up as if to say, “It’s only about a seven-minute subway ride. What’s your hurry old man?”

I had been told to get to Battery Park about an hour before the boat departed, so getting their 75 minutes before we departed could be seen as overkill. The park was virtually empty upon our entrance.

At 7:45 a.m., about the only living things in Battery Park were a couple of wayward squirrels, a disheveled guy who looked like he had taken a wrong turn to the Woodstock Festival in 1969 and the four of us. It took all of Tracy’s willpower not to give me “the look,” however that did not preclude Kim and Mary from the same thing. At least it was a beautiful morning, and Lady Liberty’s torch was beckoning us from afar.

I had reserved these tickets months ago, so after strolling around Battery Park for what seemed to the group an eternity and catching a glimpse of The Immigrants, a statue by sculptor Luis Sanguino, we walked over to Clinton Castle where we exchanged the confirmation email for our SOL tickets that would allow us to go to the crown. We got in line and went through the first of a couple of tight security checkpoints.

After a short boat ride, with New York’s skyline glistening in the background, the boat docked at Liberty Island. We had paid an additional eight bucks apiece for audio guides to the SOL and Ellis Island, so we picked them up, went to a building where we received our “Crown wristbands,” and were told that we could not take anything up to the crown except a camera. No bags, no purses and no cell phones.

There is a place to stash your gear/purses/phones in lockers, and the system works by fingerprint identity. Knowing that Tracy had never pulled off a bank heist, we put her in charge.

The “Crown People,” as the four of us now called ourselves, were put in a “special” line and soon we started ascending the 350 or so stairs to the top. I did not have a clue if I could make it, and paramedics throughout the city were alerted.

We made it to the pedestal (where the non-crown people have to stop), and after a brief respite we began the steep (and very narrow), spiral climb to the crown.

They only let in about 10-15 people every fifteen minutes to climb to the crown. We were in the first group of the day.

As we neared the crown (or at least I hoped we were near), the Statue of Liberty poem by Emma Lazarus began taking on new meaning. I was not so much yearning to breath free as I was just yearning to breath at all. I was tired and feeling poor and really hoped not to become a huddled mass or some wretched refuse clogging up the miniscule stair well. Where were those lower Conquering Limbs when I needed them?

When I heard the friendly voice of a park ranger, I knew we had made it to the top. Truthfully, it’s cramped at the top (maybe room for three or four people to look out) and the view isn’t all that terrific through the windows. However, for me it was a satisfying feeling of accomplishment, especially considering a year ago I was unable to walk, had a feeding tube down my throat and made Calista Flockhart look overweight.

Our park ranger gave us some interesting facts such as the SOL has an exterior copper covering that is less than the thickness of two pennies. I thought abut giving him my “two cents worth,” but decided otherwise. He also told us that Gustav Eiffel designed the interior structural elements a few years before he designed he famous tower that bears his name.

Then came the phrase I didn’t want to hear. “What goes up, must go down.” Luckily, for me anyway, down was easier than going up, although by now my feet were really sore. We stopped at a couple of outside spots for photos, made a quick tour of the museum, picked up our stuff and it was back on Statue Cruises for the short hop over to Ellis Island, where we would look for our relatives later (by computer, of course).

We picked up a new set of audio guides and we were off seeing how immigrants were treated upon their arrival in their new country. The tales they told could be uplifting as well as heartbreaking, and after touring the different rooms, we came out at a place where you can research when different family members made their voyage (or voyages) to America.

My Norwegian grandfather seemed to make a few crossings in the early 20th century. I hoped I wouldn’t learn that he was actually a Lutefisk, Reindeer or Smoked Salmon smuggler.

Back on the boat, we headed toward Battery Park. We spent about 3½ hours touring the SOL and Ellis Island, which we thought was enough, but you certainly could spend more time if you wanted. I’m an audio guide guy, but I thought the SOL part of the audio guide was virtually worthless (the park rangers tell you a lot more interesting tidbits, plus you can ask questions). The Ellis Island audio guides were better, but personally I don’t think the guides were worth the eight bucks.

Walking through Battery Park as we exited, we saw The Sphere, which at one time was located between the World Trade Centers. There is also an eternal flame at this spot.

As we headed up toward Wall Street and the Trinity Church area, we realized we had only consumed a couple of sweet rolls that Kim and Mary bought during the longer-than-needed “Tom Lull Time” before we headed over to the SOL.

We took a quick look at the Merrill Lynch Bull (there is now a protective barrier that I assume was put up to protect it from protesters). Then we walked past the graveyard at Trinity Church, saw Alexander Hamilton’s tomb and walked a couple of blocks to George’s New York, located at the corner of Greenwich and Rector Streets.

George’s had to be torn down after the 9/11 attacks, but they rebuilt, and it was packed this Wednesday about 1:30. It was the best of both worlds as Kim and Mary had breakfast, Tracy and I had lunch while my feet were able to get some very necessary rest.

Back on our feet, the crew toured Trinity Church and took photos of heads inserted into a large ten-dollar bill, taking the place of the aforementioned Mr. Hamilton’s visage. Fortunately, no one challenged us to a duel, and we were off on our next quest. I’m sure our first Secretary of the Treasury would be proud to know that people take great pleasure in sticking their heads in a cardboard cut-out at the very church where he worshipped.

We passed by the New York Stock Exchange, where my retirement savings used to hang out, and then walked by Federal Hall and its large statue of George Washington in front, the site of his first inauguration. That was fitting because we were on our way to a place where Washington actually changed the course of United States and world history.

At 54 Pearl Street stands Fraunces Tavern. At this spot, on December 4, 1783, General Washington, who at this point in his life could have formed a military regime or whatever the hell he wanted, said farewell to his Continental Army officers in the Long Room of Fraunces Tavern.

Upon hearing that Washington was going to retire as commander of the Continental Forces, King George III supposedly said, “If he does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.” When Washington told his men he was retiring there was hardly a dry eye in the room. Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge wrote, “Such a scene of sorrow and weeping I had never before witnessed and fondly hope I may never be called to witness again." Thankfully, he never lived to witness Jim Brown’s death near the end of The Dirty Dozen.

The museum at Fraunces Tavern is located above the restaurant and bar, in operation since 1762. Entrance to the museum is seven bucks, and with that you get to see a recreation of the Long Room plus a number of paintings and documents in various rooms. Kim is a big Washington fan, so he and I took the tour while Mary and Tracy made history downstairs with a beer and a Manhattan.

I cannot tell a lie, I did not see the sign that said “no photography” and took a photo of the replica of the Long Room. Hopefully I won’t be cursed with wooden teeth (yes, I know he didn’t really have wooden teeth…they were actually carved from hippopotamus ivory and gold).

Since none of us were entirely crippled by this point, we hopped on a subway to our next point of interest, St. Paul’s Episcopal Chapel at 209 Broadway. St Paul’s also has a graveyard in front that we walked through before reaching the entrance.

Keeping with the George Washington theme of the past couple of hours, this is the church where he worshipped (you can see his pew) after his inauguration, and the church has been around since the 1760s. It also was a place where 9/11 responders received care (podiatrists used Washington’s pew to help treat workers’ feet). Inside was a large banner sent from Oklahoma City telling rescuers to “…keep your spirits up.”

Suddenly outside, there was spirit of another type. Drums were banging. Horns were blowing. People were yelling. Sure enough, Occupy Wall Street was now occupying the street behind St. Paul’s. Wave after wave of protesters were singing songs and carrying signs, mostly saying “hooray for our side.”

“There’s something happening here,” I said. “What it is ain’t exactly clear.” Fortunately, there wasn’t a “man with a gun over there.”

Then a chorus of, “This is not a Photo Op,” came from the crowd. The dozens of people taking pictures disagreed.

After St. Paul’s, we stopped by the 9/11 Memorial Visitor Center (90 West Street/corner of Albany). We had not gotten advanced tickets to visit the recently opened 9/11 Memorial, so we checked to see if you could get “Day Of” passes. They said we could, but it would be best to get here before 8 a.m. to pick up tickets for the same day.

After my early wake up fiasco of this morning, this decision would be ultimately be made by the rest of the group. We decided to take it on a day-by-day basis, depending on how we felt each morning.

Speaking of how we felt, the consensus answer at this moment of the day was “pooped,” so it was back on the subway to the Chelsea Pines. We told Daniel about our itinerary, and once again he just shook his head in disbelief. We almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that we were just back for a few moments to shower, and then it was off to the Hi-Line and the Chelsea Market, but we were glad we did.

“At Chelsea Market, check out The Green Table. We really like that restaurant.” We made a mental note of it. He added, “Don’t forget, tomorrow is the Chelsea Pines’ 25th Anniversary Party. There will be free wine and cheese.” The last time I turned down free wine was when I was 13, so we told him we’d be there.

A quick shower and three-minute power nap, and we were on the move again, this time down to the High-Line. Built in the 1930s, for years the High Line was where trains would move freight until 1980. In the late 90s, in a move to keep the High Line from being demolished, a movement started to preserve this area as a public park.

In 2006, groundbreaking began and the first section was opened in 2009. The second part opened this summer. The High Line is open from 7 a.m. until 10 p.m., and it was amazing to see a place that was not even in use just two short years ago now full of New Yorkers who have obviously embraced this project.

When we arrived a little past six, the High Line was hopping with people strolling, enjoying the sunset or even doing a little aerobic exercise. Like an idiot, I tried to join in a “High Line; High Stepping” workout,” momentarily forgetting my body was under siege from all the walking earlier in the day. Tracy had me stop before I pulled a groin in full view of a number of shocked (and chuckling) New Yorkers. We walked along the High Line for about an hour enjoying the lights flickering on in skyscrapers throughout the city. It was very cool.

We dragged our weary bodies down the stairs, and made a beeline for our next and (thankfully) final stop of the evening, the Chelsea Market (75 9th Ave. between 15th and 16th Streets).

Inside Chelsea Market, one business caught our eye immediately. Amy’s Bread was obviously making dough by making dough. I knew there would be a croissant in my future there later in the week. Then we saw The Green Table, the restaurant Daniel at Chelsea Pines had recommended. We lucked out and got the last available table about 7:30.

This was a really good dinner with a diverse menu. Tracy started with a bowl of the vegan White Bean Soup ($7) that was really quite good.

Kim and I each got a seriously delicious Corn On The Cob grilled with cilantro-aleppo butter and lime ($4). I have got to try this at home, although at the time I thought “Aleppo” was one of the Marx Brothers.

Kim also ordered a Mac & Cheese appetizer for the table ($10). It was made with goat cheese, Colby, cheddar & Parmesan, organic pasta and herbed breadcrumbs. My arteries hardened just while looking at the ingredients.

For her entree, Mary had the Shellfish Pasta, a house made squid ink black linguini, gulf shrimp, scallops, calamari, basil and tomatoes ($24). Kim opted for the organic chicken breast roasted with braised local greens, buttered spätzle and thyme jus ($19).

Following her soup, Tracy went with another starter dish. She tried the Roasted Baby Beets with fennel, ricotta salata and fines herbs ($11). She had me taste it (beets are not my favorite), and I had to admit it was delicious. It would not be my last beet awakening this week.

Finally, I tried the Beef Bourguignon Pot Pie with red wine braised local beef topped with a flaky pâté brisée crust ($20). It also was really good, but was a little too hot to enjoy for a while after it came out.

A bottle of Les Baux de Provence (where the four of us are scheduled to be next fall) Mas de Gourgonnier 2009 ($30) and a half bottle of a Montepulciano D’Abruzzo 2008 ($18) complemented the meal perfectly. As you can see, we are equal opportunity country of origin wine drinkers.

Near the end of dinner, an alert came over (what else) our iPhones that Apple’s Steve Jobs had passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted us to hear about it any other way. By the next day, the window at the Apple Store in Chelsea (and everywhere else) was filled with notes of condolence.

We limped the short distance back to the hotel after getting quite full at The Green Table and completing another full day of activities. There would be no respite for any of us tomorrow, because our first appointment was walking over to Brooklyn. As we petted the ever-amorous Charlie before we turned in, Tracy asked, “Do you think you can make it?”

“Well,” I replied, “I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 Next: DAY FOUR: Bridge Work, No Time For Pizza, But We Don’t Want The Irish, Pastabilities, Old St. Pat’s, What The Hell Did He Say, Anniversary Party, Looking For Art In All The Wrong Places, Mary To The Rescue, C’est Trés Bon, Subway Pole Dancing and Ménage à Trois