Our public responds...

Recent comments on the blog include:

Dear woman on a bike, I am writing to complain about the content of your blog. When, oh when will you wake up and realise that a blog called 'woman on a bike' should make frequent reference to your bike. I have read your last two posts and was dismayed to discover no references to pedals, handle bars or even a bell. Please rectify the situation ASAP as,  I’m sure you can imagine, this is causing considerable stress and disappointment. Yours, Lady Snell of Snellfordshire.

And..

Hello!! Tried to post comment but failed. Think I may have broken Google. Will try again. So this is our retaliation for Trump? We may have over done it.

🗽

I'm gonna be a part of it!

'Morning Carole.'

Monday morning: to my surprise NN1 was up and bouncing round at 7am. Showered, dressed and ready by 8am, I put him in charge of Googling stuff whilst I got ready. Today we thought we'd just have a wander. It was raining, but having spent two months in full on UK sunshine (quelle suprise) we really didn't mind. We walked to the ferry and crossed.

We had a rough p!an:
1. Buy metro ticket. 7 days = $32
2. Natural History Museum
3. Tom's Diner
4. Walk around a bit.

Plan as it happened:
1. Bought metro ticket. That bit went to plan...the rest then went off piste.
2. NN1 buys bottle of Mountain Dew, haggles with vendor in expensive touristy area. Yorkshire would have been proud, 'I'm not paying £3 dollars for that, I'll give you two.' Tastes Mountain Dew. That Dew had never been near a mountain. Sets his teeth on edge. Discovers 75grammes of sugar in drink of choice. Chucks in bin.
3. Walk through Central Park. Laugh at the top hated fellas on their mobile phones.

And wonder at the park bench labels. I thought park benches were always for commemoration: RIP Auntie Elsie.. For example. 

4. Get to the Natural History Museum. 'Pretend to be French,' he says, 'When you buy the ticket.' So I do. He laughs and walks away. Thanks, NN1.

I'd be lion if I said it wasn't great. 

We visit the truly amazing dinosaur exhibition.

It's behind you... 

They really have exhibited well here. Say what you like about New Yorkers, but they know what to do with a skeleton. Also, they have a phenomenal range. Things I've never seen before (in my wide ranging paleontological experience - ahem).

This dinosaur was a plant feeder and used to wander along the river bank scooping up its food in its enormous shovel-like lower jaw.

 Just look at that jaw! The shovel bit alone is about 30 x30 cms.

We found the geological bit, where they explained about how the world changed as bits moved around. NN1 went all geography on me and started talking tectonic plates.

Demonstrating magma hands. 

I just liked the sloth bear.

 And the smallest horse's skeleton.

And the fossiled fish that ate another fish but choked on its dinner and died and became fossilised with its victim and cause of death still rammed in it's gullet.

Dinner for one. 

We met a triceratops.

Touched a dinosaur egg!

And saw a rearing diplodocus 🦕 (I think). It was great.

NN1 found some 'bunions' in the museum shop. 

Then we went to Tom's Diner. Now, we both have something in common. That is, we love to eat. Yay. We got a recommendation for the place from our landlord so headed there, via Columbia University (which, I discovered is not near Columbia, folks). Once we arrived I found that this is purported to be THE Tom's Diner of Suzanne Vega song fame. 'Who's that?' asks NN1, 'some singer from the dark ages?'. Sigh.

We ate.

He had the double cheeseburger. This consisted of TWO burgers in TWO buns with TWO lots of dressing. In the UK we make a double by shoving two burgers in one bun. Sort your own dressing out.

I had the pork chops and applesauce. I actually couldn't find the applesauce but I did get a bowl of soup, a salad, a bowl of spinach, some mashed potatoes AND some curiously orange gravy. We loved it. Ate and rolled on our way.

This is where the plan really went downhill. Ended the day in Macy's, JC Penney's and H & M shopping. NN1 is keen to buy new clothes so we did.

Went to the toilet in J. C's and, whilst waiting for NN1 to come out, two army guys in full desert combat gear, with bullet proof vests and hand guns approached. One headed into the loo. The other stopped outside and waited. The important thing to note is that this toilet is right within the very large and very well stocked ladies underwear section of the store. I was reminded of that Father Ted episode where all the priests get stuck in the underwear department. I couldn't help myself. A big grin spread across my face.
'Having a nice day ma' am? ' asked the unsuitable attired gentleman.
'Well yes, thank you.' I reply, 'and I hope you don't mind me saying, but I think you could do better with your camouflage outfit.' (indicated underwear racks).
Sometimes I really do wonder what I am thinking when I open my mouth, luckily he saw the funny side... we had a nice chat. NN1 comes out of the 'restroom' 'Honestly,' he says, 'I can't leave you alone anywhere, without you talking someone to death.' We both laugh, I tell him about the camouflage comment and Father Ted, he rolls his eyes.

Finally, after a few too-tired mistakes on the metro (I don't know how, it almost only goes up and down) we took the ferry home.

'Night Carole.'

Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today.

No need to spread that news actually, we left and arrived yesterday.

I'm taking Nephew Number 1 (NN1) on a 3 week trip to New York and Canada. Three weeks of fun and hilarity or excruciating misery? (For him, I mean, not me) We shall see.

Set off at 9.40am for the airport and reached our accommodation by 8pm, though with the time difference it was closer to 2am. We think.

Anyway, day's highlights:

Over excited by the portion sizes at Manchester Airport. 

'Wait.' He says at JFK when we land, 'Wait a minute, I need to put something on.' Whips a baseball cap from his bag and goes all Stateside on me. Hilarious as the result is all the tourists ask us for directions. We take great delight in responding, 'We're not from these parts.' In resounding Shropshire brogue. Lots of people talk to us. Americans are very friendly.

Almost at the end of our journey, we take the ferry to Staten Island. We sit on the wrong side of the boat to see The Statue of Liberty but are too tired to move. The other side of the boat is too busy anyway, we'll see her properly tmw. At the last minute I lean over the edge and see her peeping back at me. 

I ask NN1, 'If The Statue of Liberty had a name, what would it be?'

He doesn't hesitate, 'Carole,' he tells me, 'they'd call her Carole.' 

Ciao bella. From Italy to France to home.

Took the route through the Mont Blanc tunnel home. Beautiful. Stunning. Impressive. 

Mont Blanc - Impressive.

The landscape - beautiful.

The price of the crossing- bloody stunning.

Got back to Morzine for a swan song evening with D and the Lady R, Rita, Alex (Rita's son), Mad Lena (Rita's Russian sister) and Matthew (not Russian, not related to Rita).

A perfect last evening.

Then Betty assumed the position and we went home. 

Pavia, Italia.

Woke up on Friday morning on Italy. On the Ligorna (sp?) Coast. Comcerns about the earthquake in Rome didn't reach this far, though flags were at half mast. I headed to Pavia to meet old friend, Elizabetta.

Who took me out, drinking and carousing, for the night. 

Actually, I lie. They barely drink and they don't carouse...well, not above their loud shouty-talk, to which they are most partial. So we drank a bit of spumante and they graciously almost all (who could) spoke English and it was fun.

We went back to hers and slept. Elizabetta had planned a secret surprise for the next day. Well, sort of a secret...the words 'spa' and 'massage' are the same in many languages, it seems and I overheard her telling someone the plan for the next day.   

And it was FABULOUS!! A SORT of country club where they allow dogs! (On a lead) and they have sunbeds in the sun (and shade) and two pools and a cheap bar and nice ladies who do treatments. Oh it was bliss!!

B enjoyed it too...

That evening we wandered home suitably relaxed and chilled out. 

The next day was the walking tour of Pavia. 

A local church, prepped for wedding.

Statue of Garibaldi. 

The joyous lady below him is Italy. She is open armed as Garibaldi has united her (top half with bottom half) and she has decided to pretend to forget Garib's double crossing acts of rape and murder across the country. Hoorah!!

This bit was interesting to me.

Apparently Chaucer came to Pavia quite a few hundred years ago and stayed here. He was tasked with setting King Richard up for marriage with some local beauty. Whilst here he read some book which inspired him to write The Canterbury Tales. 

So they say.

The town is old and pretty and pretty quiet.

A local church.

And a monument to the women of the south bank, who earnt their living washing clothes.

The old bridge. At sunset.

Elizabetta bought a mop.

What a beautiful weekend.