So, I woke up at about 6:30 with the morning sun streaming in the window and pigeons cooing outside on the ledge. It was very very quiet outside; all the partiers from last night had dispersed to their beds or wherever. It was also very very quiet inside. Groggy though I was, I figured out that if it was 6:30 here, it would be 3:30 back home, so I really ought to still be asleep. I rolled over to face the wall, kicked off the covers (even though the window was open, the room was warm) and did my best to ignore the sunlight and pigeons and make it so. And I succeeded, for about an hour. At that point, I woke up for good and all (even though my biological clock should have considered it 4:30, and even though it was still dead quiet outside.)
Laura and Jimi had said to call when I woke up, but I was pretty sure they were assuming I'd sleep until a reasonable hour. I got up and wandered around the apartment. Although it was small, it was well laid-out and uncluttered, so it felt open and spacious, with plenty of natural light. I considered making some tea, but wasn't up to the effort of digging out my tea strainer, so I settled for more of Josh's reverse-osmosis-filtered water. I went back to my room, dressed, and tried to read, but wasn't quite up for that effort either, so I just closed my eyes and drifted for a while, having little rem episodes without actual serious sleep. I guess they helped.
I called Laura at about 8:30, which was surely too early, although she said she was up and would come meet me once she'd gotten ready to face the day. (Jimi couldn't come; he had to do things at DUMBO.)
While I waited, I decided to dig out my ukulele and see how it had survived the trip. It was fine, but out of tune, so I also dug out the tuner. It hadn't fared quite so well; something or other had leaked onto it, so the digital display wasn't all that it should have been. I managed to get my uke tuned, and even strummed a few faltering chords as I lolled on the bed. (The tuner ultimately made a full recovery.)
I'm a little hazy on the actual order of the following events, but here's what I think happened: Laura showed up at the door of the apartment; she may even have let herself in, since Josh gave her keys. We talked about our immediate plans - breakfast and a drug store so that I could replace a few more toilet articles. (I even made a list, but forgot to bring it with me.) We walked up Bedford and ate at a cafe there (I think it was on Bedford) - a nice place that specialized in baked eggs. I had two cups of coffee with mine; I felt that I needed the caffeine. We went to a drugstore, also on Bedford, and I got most of the things I needed, except for the ones I forgot because I didn't bring my list. Then we went back to my place.
Laura had brought along a copy of Time Out New York, and we used it to start planning our week. Josh popped in to say hi, and we had a chat about my uke, among other things. We decided to walk back down to Laura's place to finalize our plans for the day with the aid of her computer; I brought my various guidebooks, since I intended to leave them there anyway.
We knew we had to go into Manhattan to Laura's office to pick up the wine Char had shipped. Since it was a gorgeous day, we figured it was a good opportunity to ride the Staten Island Ferry - we could do that, then walk back up through the Wall Street area to where Laura worked, get some lunch along the way, pick up the wine, and head back to w'burg. I wanted to take them out to Peter Luger's, so Laura called and made reservations for that night - at 8:45; my introduction to NYC-style late dining. (Although by NYC standards, 8:45 isn't all that late.)
We walked up to the Marcy Avenue stop. We saw a number of Hasidim gentlemen out and about, engaged in Sabbath activities, and wearing their best clothes and hats. Kids were supposed to be indoors until sunset, Laura said, but we saw a few out on a balcony/fire escape, and they laughed and called down to us.
The JMZ line doesn't go underground until it gets to the Manhattan side of the East River; we had to climb yet more stairs to get to the station. Laura helped me purchase a 7-day Metro pass and showed me how to use it to get to the platform. (It's about the same as BART, but it's been a good while since I used BART.) We caught the J into Manhattan. It's a nice ride; you get a wonderful view of the city as you cross the river.
I don't remember where we got off or what we took to get to the Financial district, only that we spent a while waiting for a particular train until a kindly Metro employee informed us that it didn't run on weekends. When we reached the Financial district, we weren't sure exactly where we should go, but figured that we couldn't go wrong by heading toward the water. Anyway, it was a fine day for a walk, for gaping at the tall buildings with famous names, and for people-watching; the place was thronged. (Pretty much everywhere we went that Saturday was thronged, except for Bedford Ave at 10 am.)
We eventually wended our way to the Staten Island ferry terminal. The ferry is free, and departs every half hour; we were a little early, so we got some coffee. (That's three cups of coffee for me; a point worth noting in light of subsequent events.)
When we boarded the ferry, we took up positions in the prow. No seats, but a splendid view of the harbor, the downtown skyline, the Statue of Liberty, and Ellis Island. The wind was behind us, but it was still a bit nippy, and I was glad to have the scarf Laura had lent me. When we got to Staten Island, we wandered around a bit looking for points of interest, but there didn't seem to be any apart from the view, so we went back down to the terminal to catch the return ferry. (It was called the Guy Molinari, which happens to be the name of someone John worked with at the Geysers - a small-world factoid.)
We started out on the starboard-side deck for the ride back, to take advantage of the the close-up view of Lady Liberty and the harbor. The wind was sharper since we were heading into it, exhaustion seemed to be catching up with me, and I noticed I was feeling rather light-headed, so I suggested that we go inside the cabin and sit down. (There were plenty of windows, and also plenty of seats.) This was the first time I'd had a dizzy spell since the Christmas PST event, and it occurred to me that it might be interesting to check my pulse. And it was; my pulse was rather fast, although nowhere near what it had been at Christmas. I'm thinking that if I'd ever thought to take my pulse during the assorted other dizzy spells that I've had over the years, it likely would have been elevated then, too. It seems likely that assorted stress factors are the immediate cause - in this case, I was over-tired, over-caffeinated, jet-lagged, and dealing with an abundance of new people and new situations, enough to spin anyone's head or set a person's pulse arace.
My main concern, though, was to encourage it to slow down. I was looking forward to the week ahead, and I didn't want to cause an upset by having to go find an emergency room. I told Laura I was kind of tired and didn't quite feel up to walking back uptown, so we took the train and got off at Broadway and Lafayette. (Did we change trains anywhere? I can't recall.) My pulse rate had descended but still wasn't quite back to normal when we emerged onto Broadway.
If the Financial District had been thronged, Broadway was - I don't know - chock-a-block? Anyway, seriously congested with people going in all directions. Laura had a couple of places we could go for lunch. The first one looked good, but maybe more than we wanted since we were having a Big Dinner. The second place was Spring Street.
I'd actually heard of Spring Street; it's been around at least since the 80s, and maybe before that. It's a vegetarian place. It, too, was thronged; we had to wait about 10 minutes to get a table. I got to sit facing a window, for another excellent people-watching op.
Our waitress was prompt about taking our order - Laura got pumpkin raviolis, and I ordered rice and veggies. Our food took a while, but that wasn't surprising in light of the crowd. Laura's raviolis were excellent; my rice and veggies were fine, but I wasn't all that hungry. Then we sat back and waited for the check.
It was a long, long wait - probably the longest I experienced during my visit, although Laura explained to me that NYC waiters are notoriously laggard about presenting the bill. I was kind of surprised, because even though it was about 3 pm, there were still people waiting for tables; I'd have thought they'd be anxious to clear us out. But no. It seemed to take forever for the waitress to get around to asking if we wanted anything else, and then it took another eternity for her to bring us the bill. She kept wafting back and forth, often empty-handed (and very possibly empty-headed.) I really wanted to get out of there; although my pulse was now back to normal, more or less, I was still feeling tired. I wanted to get the wine, go back to Williamsburg, shower, and then just chill for a while before dinner. I even contemplated grabbing a menu, making a rough calculation of what our bill would be, and just leaving the estimated amount on the table and heading out the door. But I didn't. Finally we got our check, paid up, and made our escape.
We took a quieter street up to Laura's office. It turned out to be the only time I saw it; I'd planned to come in and meet her one day at work, but that ended up not happening. The wine was there, so we collected it and headed back to Williamsburg, which I was now thinking of as home. And although the day was not yet over, I think I'll save the rest for Part 5.
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