New York Part VII

And finally. We hop, skip across to Brooklyn for the Brooklyn flea, never have I wanted to buy so many things. Luggage restrictions apply though so I leave with a glass cocktail shaker, the less elaborate $5 one as opposed to the cut glass $35 dollar one which might break my heart if it shatters in transit, and a couple of lovely milk glass vases which I have been searching for in vain in English charity shops. Crinkled poppies in sunrise colours, crepe paper petals. Worn leather cowboy boots, coloured glass cake stands, boxes of fabric, patterned tea towels. Brunch with mimosas, bacon donuts, sliders, eggs in a nest. A walk through Williamsburg, vintage shopping, just like being in London's East End, hipsters not trendies, but what's in a name? Music on the subway. Dinner with an old family friend, reminiscing about a childhood holiday when we visited them in Connecticut, sailing, grilled cheese sandwiches on the beach, sweets that turn your tongue blue, a couple of much loved dogs. She takes us for pizza in the East Village, sparkling red wine from tumblers, blistered dough, molten cheese as the rain pours down outside, again. Hurrying under inadequate umbrellas to a basement bar, sitting on stools drinking Hendrick's based cocktails, slivers of cucumber, floating. Brunch at Prune, we arrive early, get in on the first set of covers, but if we hadn't, it would have been worth the wait. A Dutch style pancake, thick, pear studded, toasted English muffin, scrambled eggs, bacon. We are blessed with a gloriously sunny final day. Wander round Central Park with my Diana Instant, wander and wander. People watching, boat watching (life size and model), dog watching. Dive out to buy a deli lunch, take it back to the park to eat. The Neue Galerie, a first time visit for me, but I love it, small and elegant, Klimt, Schiele, other Secessionist artists and designers, wonderful. Drinks, later, at another Speakeasy style bar, through a metal gate, down a dark alley, up some metal stairs, door opened by a huge bouncer. Inside, chandeliers and oil paintings, cocktails served in teacups (admittedly rather chunky), music that prompts a pair of fellow drinkers to rise, clasp hands and dance gently round the room. Honey vodka / basil / grapefruit juice, elderflower liqueur / champagne / lemon. Afterwards, walking a few blocks North, almost missing an Italian restaurant that had been recommended by a friend, entering its dimly lit interior, ordering plates of pasta, fresh spinach and ricotta ravioli, simple tomato sauce.

Last morning and we squeeze in pancakes, the Guggenheim, a couple of slices of New York pizza, paper plates, napkins to mop up the grease, so good.

In Bruges

Deep green canals. Cool stone bridges. Cobbled streets. Gothic churches, step-gabled buildings, leafy squares. Mornings exploring the city on foot and by boat. Creamy Belgian hot chocolate before the sun rose too high. Ice cold cherry beer in the heat of the day and warm evenings. Beautiful tapestries, intricate, delicate lace. The rich, deep, dark smell of the chocolate shop where we stocked up on gifts. Climbing the tall bell-tower, and surveying the city beneath us glowing in the late afternoon sun, as the sweat from 366 steps cooled on our backs. Hot, salty frites with a dollop of thick mayonaise eaten in a park by a fountain. Sifting through other people's junk at the flea market, walking away with dusty hands. Window box after window box, stuffed with geraniums in bubblegum pink and pillarbox red. Fluffy waffles with a dusting of icing sugar. Stumbling off the beaten track and finding beauty in the mundane, elaborate doorknockers, bicycles leant against walls and trees.

No sign of Colin Farrell (sadly).

This weekend:

Papa John's takeaway pizza and Mad Men DVD on Friday night with M and Cath (who brought gloriously sticky baklava from her local corner shop for dessert). Loving this BBC drama and love love love all the outfits worn in it.

Deptford flea market on Saturday morning where I found a rather sad looking brass lion coat hook that I have been trying to clean with vinegar and an old toothbrush. Coffee and hot chocolate from The Deptford Project cafe, located in an old railway carriage.


Saturday lunch at the recently discovered Comptoir Libanais on Wigmore street, a shared mezze platter followed by a rosewater macaroon. Delicious and very reasonably priced (although we were treated by M's older brother, so didn't have to worry about this!) and I would definitely recommend it.
The afternoon was spent lazing on the balcony with cups of tea and the remains of Friday's baklava and was interrupted only by my exciting discovery of a ladybird on my sweetpeas - so glad to have some help with the greenfly.


Saturday evening we headed to a friend's BBQ where we made the most of the warm evening standing around in the garden drinking Pimms, eating grilled peppers and catching up with friends.

Yesterday morning we went for a run in Regent's Park (hardcore I know, but we're in training for this, and we did spend most of the weekend eating!) then popped by the farmer's market to buy some Kentish cherries. Lunch included these radishes, which I must confess I bought largely for their bright colours, a baked Camembert and some new potatoes from Mum's garden.

Sunday afternoon I devoured the cherries as we sat at my ridiculously slow laptop and finally got round to booking a holiday after weeks of umm-ing and aah-ing about the destination.

At 5ish my friend Sophie arrived to stay for the night and we baked some cupcakes that were meant for Cath who we were planning to visit after supper. Unfortunately we never made it, the Jubilee line was down and after waiting 35min in the drizzle for a bus that never came we gave up and went home to eat the cupcakes ourselves with a cup of tea and Edward Scissorhands, which M and Sophie had never seen in full, and which is still as good as I remember.

Hope you all had relaxing weekends too.