One pumpernickel bagel with chopped liver, please

It rained a solid six days while I was in New York. That was a bit of a downer, especially when it was so bad there was nothing else to do than stay in our incredibly whiffy ‘hotel’ room. It took me a few days to get used to the city, its advertising, the cabs and the sirens, its cops, 24 hour culture, 31-derful flavours and in oh my gawd we trust. By the time I felt aclimatised, it was time to go home.

One thing I got used to very quickly. Tasty food and snacks everywhere, at all hours, for next to nothing. (Bless the strong Euro.)

Now I’m home, not terribly jet-lagged at all (yet) and there are family matters to attend to. ‘Hours or weeks.’ That kind of thing.

Summer holiday lessons

If I were to do a trip like this again, I’d do it differently.

  • I’d rent a place so I wouldn’t pay through the nose for hotels
  • I wouldn’t do extra travelling two out of six days (Nice-Marseille-Nice)
  • I’d preferably bring a friend so we can talk about how good the food was
  • I’d not bring expensive gear so I can go swimming
  • I’d have to re-learn to pack for sub tropics
  • I would try not to twist and sprain my ankle stepping out of my frontdoor to leave for the airport
  • I’d sit on my arse more and not walk 8 hours a day on a gammy foot

    As for photography:

  • If I brought the EOS again, someone would have to teach me how to deal with bright sunlight because a lot of my shots are partly overexposed
  • When people *want* to have their picture taken, take five, not just one