Author Archives: cbsev

Carnival, Governors Island, NYC

Cotton Candy and Carousels

Gracefully galloping, always poised in perfect pose. Side-saddle or straddled, taking control of the reins or waving gracefully at passerby. The gentle tinkling of music plays softly, the wind blows through your hair. The smell of sugar and the sound of laughter is in the air. . . la vie est parfaite!

Governors Island, just half a mile off of South Ferry, has many wonderful sights to keep you entertained for the day. A military base for the US Army and Coast Guard for nearly two centuries (so yes, almost 200 years!), 150 acres were given to both the city of New York as well as the state, while the rest (just over 20 acres) was preserved as a national monument. From the ‘castle’ of the military fort, (used to both hold prisoners and look out for intruders trying to make their way to land), to the antique (but still functioning) French Carousels surrounded by classic Colonial houses, magic and imagination runs wild.

carousel

One of the many beautiful carousels on display.

While the ‘castle’ and other military buildings were quite fascinating, I’m not going to lie – my focus at Governors Island was Fete Paradiso, the French Carnival. Restored carnival rides and games from as early as 1850 twirled and danced. A woman in 1930s clothing (think classy french pin-up) sat elegantly side-saddled upon a beautiful white mare while another sung seductive French jazz on the pavilion. Children danced and giggled – almost as loud as the adults accompanying them! With the bistro lights hung overhead it was truly a trip back in time.

While I did not ride any of the carousels myself (my husband wasn’t ready to stand in line, obviously I hadn’t gotten his imagination prepared well enough), there was one other carnival staple I was sure to not leave without. So my husband and sister-in-law headed to the wine bar while I waited patiently, bouncing like any child might, for freshly spun cotton candy! Sugary and sticky, I feel it is a necessary indulgence if you are going to go to a carnival. Who doesn’t enjoy being a big little kid sometimes?

This island definitely is going to need another tour, and not just for the carousel ride I’m going to take. But for trip #1, it has definitely caught my interest. New York City, you continue to impress. Now excuse me while I go wash the sugary-spun sweetness from my face.

cotton candy

Au revoir.

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NYC, Uncategorized

Festivals and Food Poisoning

Celebrating our first weekend in the Big Apple I wanted to do something to really bring us into this new life. Fortunately for me, the city responded tremendously Saturday with celebrations and festivals galore. From an Oyster Fest across the street from our place to the San Gennaro festival in Little Italy and more, New York gave us plenty to take in.

As we headed out for a morning run, my husband and I saw tents and signs going up across the street from our place. My husband got really excited as we returned when he noticed the signs read ‘Oysters’. While my husband is a fan of food in general, oysters, clams and crab are three things that he could eat for every meal, every day (won’t he be excited to hear that this festival continues this weekend)!

Oyster Fest

Research has told me that this annual Oyster Festival is a New York staple celebration. Nestled on Stone St, a brick-laid avenue lined with restaurants and bars of all types, it takes one look to realize that may be an understatement. I’m rather certain the Park City population of 10,000 was crammed into this one brick-laid street with Snyderville Basin overflowing onto Pearl St. I didn’t know that many people could fit into such a small area! So my sister-in-law and I headed into the chaos, coming out 40minutes later having shared a bottle of Prosecco with some wonderfully nice strangers and finally getting the two beers we went in for, while my husband satisfied his oyster craving (he even saved us some!). Satiated and slightly overwhelmed, we left the crowd to the locals.

San Gennaro

Fast forward to dinner and we found ourselves in another massive group in the heart of Little Italy. If I thought Stone St. was crowded I don’t even know what do consider this! Rather than one street, it was simply people as far as you could see in all directions. Eventually we found a place to eat that didn’t have an hour wait – turns out there may have been a reason. While our food was delicious, our stomachs didn’t think so later in the night. I guess quantity comes over quality when at the demand of 100,000 people. Our stomachs didn’t turn before our personal bubbles popped however, and we quickly decided moving two feet every two minutes wasn’t quite worth it. However, we did not escape before trying Deep Fried Oreos! Shoot they were so good. Thank God I don’t go to fairs often, I would be in trouble!

Even if my stomach didn’t agree with all of the choices I made on Saturday (and yes, it was the Italian dinner, not the Oreos dang it!), I am slowly getting closer to the realization that this is my permanent residence (not quite ready for the ‘H’ word yet) and that’s not horrible – just a bit of sensory overload.

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NYC, NYC Subway

My Internal Compass Needs Work

I have grown up always knowing that east was where the mountains were, therefore, I could (almost) never get lost. In the last three days I have been yearning for those mountains so I could pretend to have some sense of direction. I have none.

wasatch uofu

Who needs an internal compass when you have this!?

My first day coming back from work I took the 1 express down. All of a sudden everyone is getting off and they are announcing that if you want to get off at South Ferry you MUST be in the first five cars. I don’t want to go to South Ferry. 40 minutes later I am still walking around, hoping somebody will notice this lost looking person walking and turning on the same street – nobody does, and I’m too stubborn at this point to ask for help, I can do this damn it!

Subway map

Day two I get off at the 9/11 Memorial. I think, “I’m home early, I’ll go see Ground Zero then just walk home”. So wrong. Almost 45minutes go by and my husband calls to make sure I’ll be home. He left his keys at the office. I inform him that he may just have to come find me and then we can both go home together. He chuckles, reminding me that I told him I was on my way home at least an hour ago. Thanks for rubbing it in, I feel slightly more inept now, ugh.

Today I head out feeling confident. I now know I have to transfer from the 1 to the 2 or 3 to ensure I get to Wall St. I know that the Kilarny Pub is just two right turns from where I get the subway. All I have to do is get off the subway at Wall St. and I’m safe, right? Haha don’t make me laugh. I am talented enough to walk out a completely different area than where I entered. Why can’t the Wall St. stop just come out on Wall St. only!? I am proud to say that it did only take me 15 minutes this time – and only one frustrated phone call to my husband. I’m getting better!

wall st sub

Wall St. is very neat for many things. The Bull the Bear, more suits than you will ever see in your life (and at all hours of the day too – who goes to a bar at 10:30 with their suit still on, briefcase still in hand!?). You can almost feel the power pushing on the doors. The flags almost seem to fly a little stronger, a little harder – they know they are somewhere important. But Wall St. you are horrible at giving me a sense of direction. No grid, no numbers, just a million streets, all getting smaller and smaller as you reach the tip of the island at Battery Park.

Now you may say, ‘you have a smart phone Chelsea, use it’s smarts’. This is true, and I have used it. But when Siri tells me to go north on Pearl St. I turn in a circle and realize I don’t know which way is north.  I must also admit my stubbornness here and say that I want to think I can find it on my own. Foolish in this smart technology age? Probably.

I huff down on our couch, venting to my husband about how I have decided I really don’t like this area and all it’s confusion. ‘Did you know the two bodies of water used to be referred to simply as the East and West Rivers?’ I gripe. Too bad from the middle of Manhattan (at least in the Financial District) there appears to be only towering mountains of metal. He just smiles and tells me I’ll dominate it come Monday.

I knew I would miss home, but who would think the first reason I would miss those mountains was because they provided me with my ‘internal compass’?

Bring it on Monday. Bring. It. On.

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Uncategorized

From Snow Globe to City Streets – the beginning

Turn over a snow globe, twist the music knob, twist and watch the magic. A perfect world encapsulated within a small dome of glass. Every detail visible and protected. Impenetrable to any outside force. You gaze as your mind wanders, soothed by the music softly emanating from a tiny rotating box. Snow gently wanders down, settling on a street, a house, a lamppost – anywhere it can find a home. For most of my life, it felt like one of those flakes fell on me every time the globe turned.

Welcome to PC

In 1990, at only 4-years-old, I moved to a magical place called Park City. I remember the first day it snowed – daddy taught me how to make a snow angel, definitely one of the greatest things EVER! I grew up through the wild white winters and perfectly temperate summers and found myself lucky enough to attend college in state where my Greatest Snow on Earth© and mountains were never far. College ended and I wended my way back to those mountains, teaching in their schools, exploring their trails, watching them grow. If told I would live there for the rest of my life, I would feign hesitation but then say, ‘OK’ – Life was good.

Then came September 17, 2013 – A day that will live in my memory forever. That little girl, who spent all of her life in those mountains, taking in its fresh air, soaking up every ray, every powder turn, finds herself somewhere she only ever saw in the movies. Sure I had visited, been the textbook tourist at the Statue of Liberty, Broadway, Times Square – but a permanent resident? Fuggedaboutit!

NYC CP

A snow globe is only temporary. Eventually the music stops. Sure you can wind it up again and get lost in its music and magic, but the music can’t continue forever. That first snow globe will always be there, resting on its shelf ready for its next turn, for its music to play as its snow softly falls – but everyone who has ever owned a snow globe knows you can never just be entranced by one – the music box needs a separate harmony, a new tune all its own.

 

Looks like my new snow globe is shaped like an Apple. . . is this really where dreams are made of?

 

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