XVII: Sherlock in New York

We did finally go to New York this past weekend. The hotel room was rather small.

I don't take up much space, really, but The American is somewhat larger than I am. We wouldn't have both fit if I'd been any bigger.

We didn't have time to visit many sights, though we did see Rockefeller Center:

And happened upon a Labor Day parade, even though Labor Day had been the previous weekend.

The parade was made up mostly of unions. Apparently they also moonlight as marching bands? Here they are in front of Trump Tower:

And here are some who are Scottish, maybe, or pretending to be:

And this was the union for motion picture stagehands or some such. I really just fancied the double-decker bus, which reminded me of home:

After all the walking we'd done, we stopped for a treat. The American kept saying we "broke into a Jamba Juice," but the doors were unlocked and the establishment was clearly open, so I don't really follow the joke there.

We had something called a Green Gummi Bear. They didn't know how to make it, so we had to tell them. (For the curious, it's soy milk, peach juice and lime sherbet. Very nice.)

The American had gone to a large toy store to buy things for that pack of Baskerville hounds she calls her children. But at least one of the toys was friendly:

His name is Barry. (Beary? Berry? I didn't ask.) And now he lives in the downstairs flat, or what is commonly called the playroom. But he makes frequent visits up our way.

We stayed near Times Square, which is quite vibrant after dark.

Of course, our visit coincided with an historic anniversary. We had some sobering reminders of such:


John said...

So you went to New York for the weekend and came back with a bigger, better bear, did you? Hmm?

Sherlock said...

You're the one always on me about being neighbourly.

John said...

Yes, it's quite clear how neighbourly you were being.