Project Konigsberg #5 four and a half men
The cookie has both sweet and savoury ingredients. It is GAWJUSS.
The bridge drops off in a park and next to a whole load of sports fields. There's some art work and we briefly walk the wrong way along the river front before back to the bridge. I wonder if we can get transported around by golf buggy, and after consulting maps and things it turns out that's exactly what we're going to do. It's a 6 seater shuttle service around the island with the rear 2 seats facing backwards and I get one of those.
At Grand Central we take in the excellent surroundings and I grab Apple Store wifi and finally upload a proper blog post. Down to the dining concourse we aim for the oyster bar, in front of which is a large tour group and a sign that says they're shut because they don't open until 1130. It's 1115. So we leave the station by the Jackie Onassis Foyer and enter the swanky Hyatt hotel next door, whose bar is open and serves excellent Guinness and nuts.
This tube ride is full of bleak. Adverts for delicious death.
Outside is not much better.
Andrew's Giants cap is as stained, discoloured and broken as our souls.
I pause for a moment's reflection. But no, I got nothing.
The Q44 takes a long trip through the Bronx and Queens - including possibly the first part of NYC that looks vaguely nice - to Flushing, where traffic is crazy and 90% of the people are of Chinese or Korean descent. A few blocks from the bus stop is the 7 metro which we take to 111st, with views of Flushing Meadows and the Mets stadium. It's a 15 block walk to where we want to be but a bus rescues us half way and, finally, after all this schlepping for about 3 bloody hours, we reach the Lemon Ice King of Corona. Sure we've done two crossings since lunch, but we really honestly have gone through this 9 leg journey (including the walks) to reach a place to buy some flavoured ice.
It's raining and we're going to Greenwich Village. I don't really understand why but then we get to a pizza place called John's opposite a decent beer pub called Blind Tiger and fine, whatever. The pizza is very nice though too thin crust for my liking; I'm more a Chicago man. Arithmetic is done because it's time to settle up. Some of us owe the group a fair bit of cash so ATMs are sought in the rain. By the time everything is sorted the heavens have properly opened and it is tipping it down. I cross the road to the pub because I'm not scared of a bit of water, and the doorman taps me on the shoulder to tell me that none of my friends have followed me. So I go and stand in the rain because for fucks sake it's just a bit of rain, and one by one the rest of them run across and into the pub.