Four days in New York

One World Trade Center reflected in one of the 9/11 Memorial Pools

It's been a busy fall for me, and it's not over yet. After the various races and the trip to Mexico my next stop was New York City. The idea for this visit had been hatched in the summer when my friend Barry had been in Lubbock and we talked about my coming up to NYC to visit him and his family. At the time we didn't make any firm plans, but once my race schedule started to crystallize I noticed a week that might just be ideal for a trip in the fall. The timelines would be tight (I got back to Lubbock only one day before leaving for NY, and after returning there was only one day before the next scheduled trip), but somehow it all worked out—despite American Airlines' big meltdown just right before my return from Cancun when more than 3,500 flights were cancelled within the span of just a few days. Thankfully, I was not affected.

And so I left what seems like an eternity ago, last Thursday. (I started to write this blogpost while on the way to Lima, Peru, exactly seven days later! But as it turned out while writing, my flight to DFW today was so badly delayed that I could not make my connection to Lima, so I am at home for an extra night. More about that in the next post.) I couldn't have picked a better time to go to New York as the weather forecast proved correct and I enjoyed nothing but sunshine and mild daytime temperatures in the upper 60s to lower 70s. Barry picked me up from LaGuardia, and since we talked too much he missed an exit and our drive doubled in duration when we suddenly were on Manhattan's East Side instead of heading straight down from Queens to Brooklyn. Oh well, the city started to switch on its lights and the drive, despite the stop-and-go traffic, was beautiful.

Barry, Suzie, and their son Max live in a stylishly renovated typical row house in Brooklyn, close to the Bay Ridge ferry terminal—an ideal starting point for my bike excursions on Friday and then again on Monday. After our family dinner after my arrival and a good night's sleep I left the house around 9 a.m. the next morning, on Suzie's Kona commuter bike. I first rode south along the water toward Long Island but then reversed course, went to the ferry terminal, and bought for $3.75 a ticket for the bike and myself to go north. For most New Yorkers these fast ferry rides are simply part of the daily commute, but for me it was a fabulous sightseeing trip. The perspective from the water is just so different than from land.

I went as far north as the Greenpoint ferry terminal on the East River and then started riding south toward Brooklyn. New York has an excellent bike infrastructure consisting of marked as well as separated bike routes and lanes, and despite the heavy traffic I always felt safe. Needless to say, I used my Locus app to maintain my general direction toward Brooklyn where I was to meet up with Barry for a few brews at Big aLICe Brewing after he got off from his teaching job. Interestingly, at the brewery we had to show both proof of vaccination as well as a photo ID to enter and be seated, and of course everybody wears a mask. (The ferries, like all other public transportation, require everyone to wear a mask as well, and many, many people even out in the open in the streets were masked.) New York was at the epicenter of COVID, and there is none of the nonchalance toward the pandemic that's evident in Lubbock.

We spent the evening at home, and thanks to Barry's culinary skills we had another outstanding family dinner. The plan was to leave early Saturday morning for their cabin in upstate New York, but our departure time for this reason or that was delayed until almost noon. No big deal—we'd get there eventually. The drive made me realize how easy and stress-free driving in my part of the world really is. It took us about two-and-a-half hours or a bit more to get up to Pine Bush, a distance of some 90 miles. The entire way saw heavy traffic, and while in the city stop-and-go movement. 

Once we got up to Pine Bush, we made a quick grocery and beer run and then went to the cabin. We had taken Barry's Bianchi along so that we could go for a ride—he keeps his Moots Vamoots road bike at the cabin. Suzie and Max had stayed in the city, and so the two of us were free to do our thing. Because of our late arrival (and the short days) we had to limit our ride to a beautiful 18-mile loop through rolling terrain; the landscape displayed its finest fall colors, and there was a definite nip in the air. We made it back to the cabin in time for a welcome hot shower and then moseyed over to Tom and Carolyn's (winterized) cabin for Happy Hour. All the cabins in this compound belong to artists, educators, photographers, and other interesting people, and I got to meet several of Barry's longtime friends.

Initially we had planned to ride on Sunday morning, but the overnight temperature had fallen to the mid-20s and we decided on hot coffee and a nice breakfast while sitting next to the wood-burning stove—too hell with freezing our toes and fingers off! After a short walk around the compound and meeting yet another neighbor, James, we packed up the car and drove back to the city, once again braving heavy traffic that was even thicker thanks to the NY Marathon.

Monday was my last day in New York, and since Barry and Suzie had to work I was once again on my own. This time around I took the ferry to Manhattan and spent the day exploring the West Side. On each of my two excursions I rode about 22 easy miles, stopping and taking photos or just sitting down on a bench and watching the world go by. One of the highlights of the day was a visit to the new Little Islands project, an artificial "island" that's situated in Hudson River Park.

Even more impressive was my first visit ever to the 9/11 Memorial with its two pools and the surrounding One World Trade Center complex, including the Oculus shopping mall. Wow. That was quite an experience, and I happened to visit the area with the light of the slowly setting sun falling in from the west. Very impressive.

I finished my day of sightseeing in Battery Park, at the south end of Manhattan. The sun was setting just a short distance to the right of the Statue of Liberty, and it was the perfect way to end up my four days in New York. When it was dark, I took the ferry back to Brooklyn, enjoyed Barry's homemade quiche, a nice Malbec, and another deep conversation with him and Suzie. 

The next morning I called a cab and an hour later I was back at LaGuardia for my flight back to Lubbock. Thank you, my dear friends in New York, for your warm welcome and this great experience!

Jürgen

A tweaked back is no fun at home, less so in a Mexican resort

What last Tuesday had started out with two smooth, upgraded flights to Cancun, an impeccable ground transfer, and a fairly efficient check-in at the Ocean Coral y Turquesa turned sour the next morning, Wednesday, when my lower left back suddenly cramped up after I had been enjoying a seaside lounge chair for half an hour. Damn, what is it with Mexico and me? Three days later I was still groaning when walking, and for most of my time in the resort I simply sat at the pool or looked at the waves instead of going for the long beach walks that I had envisioned. Now, sitting in the Cancun airport on the way back I am still not right and have a hard time walking without grimacing.

Almost three weeks ago, in Fayetteville, I had some minor issues with my right lower back that I attributed to walking the cyclocross course, something my new hip isn't quite used to yet. I didn't take any pain meds and after two days things were back to close to normal—end of story, or so I thought. I think that my new hip is asking my body to make certain adjustments, and something triggered the pinch on the left side. There's a new slightly numb area in that leg (oh, I have several of those!), so I believe it's one of those nerve-related issues.

So, I had to practice my beach- and pool-lounging skills, and even that was only marginally enjoyable. Thankfully, the weather cooperated in the best way (no rain, few clouds, definitely no hurricanes like a year ago), and I finally read Rick Ridgeway's highly recommendable The Big Open while nursing my share of mojitos, margaritas, and piña coladas. But those who know me also know that I'm generally a little more active than that, and even though I didn't bring a bike on this trip because for once I wanted to travel light this was way too sedentary for me.

To be honest, I am glad to fly back this afternoon, if for nothing else than a stash of Tramadol in my slim medicine cabinet and the prospect of a pain-free night. But, quite frankly, I am also ready to escape the gluttony and laziness of the past week. Even though I ate at the main buffet only twice, concocting lunch salads with dozens of small bites of  various savory foods, I am sure I still ate my fair share. Add to that all those empty calories that come in the form of foo-foo drinks and you have the recipe for serious weight gain. Ah, the perils of going to an all-inclusive!

This was probably my fifth time at the Ocean Coral y Turquesa, and unfortunately I have to report that every time the entire experience loses another half star. It started out with what I would call a sub-par room for what is considered one of their best guests, an H10 Privilege member. The view from my balcony on the second floor was limited to the trunks and tops of palm trees. What happened to the promised ocean view that was included in the initial sales presentation many years ago? And what happened to the balcony jacuzzi that until now I had been able to enjoy after a day on the beach (and which would have really come in handy this time around)? Trying to change to a better room resulted in only a shrug and the oh-so-Mexican no hay. Really?

In re-reading my blogpost from last year I realized that at the time I had wondered whether COVID had affected the workers' morale and the general offerings. It appears that, mostly, the waitstaff are more upbeat and eager to help, especially when I engaged with them in Spanish. But overall, services were spotty. Three days lacked the promised daily mini-bar restocking. Yesterday afternoon, after spending the entire day at the pool and beach my room was still not made up at 5:30 pm, the time when essentially the entire resort takes a break to get ready for dinner. Coffee pods for the Mexican version of a Keurig appeared in unpredictable intervals. One day there'd be four fresh towels, the next just one. The list goes on.

While most of the food was prepared with lots of attention to detail, the menus in the various specialty restaurants feature fewer a la carte items than in prior years. (BTW, printed menus no longer exist and you will need a cell phone to figure out what to order; with excellent Wi-Fi service throughout the resort, including the beach, that's not an issue since nowadays nobody leaves the room without a mobile device.) Thankfully, items such as the octopus carpaccio or the duck breast still exist, as do the divorced eggs for breakfast or the roast beef baguette for lunch.

Unfortunately, there was also a lot of hit-and-miss. For example, I had enjoyed the ensalada de pulpo en salsa de mango on my second night as the squid rings had been freshly deep fried and were delicious; last night, the same dish arrived cold and stale. The quality of the beef has gone downhill as the meat is apparently brined or tenderized in some other way so that the texture appears quite unnatural; same goes for the chicken. What was supposed to be tiramisu in the Italian restaurant was anything but, and to receive an espresso in a large coffee mug meant that the liquid was cold when it arrived. One grins and bears, remembering that these are First World problems, but when I have to pay First World prices (plus a daily $40 singles supplement) I should not be faulted for noticing these issues as they did not exist just a few years ago. Of course, the wine is still practically undrinkable and I was glad to have brought two bottles for really special dinners.

"Tiramisu" and "espresso"

I talked to two managers about my experience, and they agreed that there are problems but that they do the best and don't receive the support from upper management. It seems to be the same story everywhere: Profits are the only thing that counts, and customer experience and satisfaction are afterthoughts at best. H10 is lucky to have this Mexican workforce that generally is cheerful and welcoming, because without them the disappointment would have been much more severe.

To end this blogpost on a happy note, I should mention that I once again learned a few things about Mexican food that I hope to incorporate at home. Probably the revelation of the trip was the enmoladas, mole-covered soft chicken tacos that I ate twice for breakfast. The pictures say it all. As usual, I'd ask for the ingredients of this dish or that, or how a particular salsa is prepared. One evening, in the empty Privilege Lounge, the bartender showed me how to mix margaritas based on Mezcal, Cointreau, and oranges, with sugar instead of salt encrusting the rim of the glass. It was in the same lounge that I finally was able to get a Cafe Maya—something that I couldn't get even in the Mexican specialty restaurant. My waiter at first seemed somewhat perplexed when I asked for this delicacy, but when I told him that ingredients were the local Xtabentun as well as Kahlua he relayed the info to an experienced bartender who then concocted this wonderful beverage. So, maybe there is hope left ...

Time for me to close the laptop here in the Cancun airport. The former Priority Pass lounge in Terminal 3 (which services AA and some of the other major airlines) no longer exists, the airport Wi-Fi doesn't work (so I will have to wait to upload photos and publish this post), and there aren't any power outlets. Oh well, my flight will board in 45 minutes and then I'll enjoy the lie-flat comfort of 3L of the wide-body that will take me to Dallas.

Jürgen