If I can make. It. There.

Thursday: we both woke up really late. On the ferry to Manhattan I  thought NN1 looked really American 🇺🇸 He fits right it. 

During today's ferry trip the US coast guard decided to flank us:
'It wasn't me, officer.'

This man's job entails trying to keep his machine gun pointing safely upwards whilst perching on a slanted metal rail at the front of the boat to which he is attached by a bit of bungy cord.

I don't really know how bad people in boats announce themselves, but I'm guessing they're inclined to be secretive about being bad. How do you know when to shoot? And all the boats round here are huge. How are you going to shoot a secretive bad person in a cockpit, high up on their big boat? Especially when you're bouncing around on a bit of bungy cord on a small boat? Luckily, this is not my problem to worry about.

Our foodfest continued: in Harlem today, we went to Sylvia's. Open since 1962, Sylvia's serves soul food (see the New York episode of Man vs Food on YouTube.)

He had the fried chicken and waffles. I had the bbq ribs with two sides: mac n cheese and buttered corn. The order came with corn bread and the waffles were served with a large jug of maple syrup. We drank lemonade (me) and iced coffee (he). NN1 made his own menu:

Starter: buttered cornbread
Main: half a chicken
Dessert: waffles and syrup

We devoured its homemade deliciousness. The waitress was really lovely and had just come back from a holiday in London. We chatted.

Afterwards we wandered through Harlem. Saw market stalls, the start of a free concert, stopped briefly at H n M to bask in the aircon. It was really horribly hot today.

Went past this building where the concert was. Named in tribute to Adam Clayton Powell, baptist minister and collector of money to feed and clothe the poor. Also civil rights activist. Also married and divorced three times. Also had two sons by two different wives and called them both Adam Clayton Powell (the III and IV respectively). I LOVE life's details.

Then we took another metro train because we were GOING TO THE GAME. A baseball game in the Yankee's stadium Yankees vs Kansas City, up in The Bronx.

We arrived in a sporty melee and decided to buy some drinks.

Stand back, all those who count themselves amongst my nearest and dearest, my loved ones, my clan, for you have been usurped. By this lady. On account of the fact that when I ordered a beer, she asked me for i.d. Yes! I know! I. D!

So, Mrs I.D lady has rocketed to the top of the favourites list, where she is occupying places 1, 2 and 3.

Yeah, and before anybody says it: her new glasses are in the post and her guide dog is called Peter.

The game was a really good experience. Fun, interesting, different.

For instance, unlike during a football match in the UK, people don't keep their eyes on the pitch and they get up and move around a lot. Buying food, drinks, chatting. It's a lot less intense. There's virtually no swearing and it's a real family event. 

The best bit was at half time, when the grounds people were smoothing the red sandy bit (see photo above) and they stopped everything three times to go into a synchronised dance. Now, that was funny..