I didn't expect to like this city. We've been to a bunch of places that I wasn't overwhelmed by and a few that I've been instantly smitten with (Luxembourg, anyone?). So, yeah, given the hoards of people, the lack of A/C and the freaking cost, I was sure I wasn't going to want to go back to NYC.
Guys, I totally want to go back. Maybe not tomorrow, but definitely at least once a year.
For a fucking introvert, I thrived on the crowds. I mastered jaywalking between waiting cars. I approached strangers and swayed them with my over-pronounced southern accent and pet strangers' puppies in parks. I spoke French twice and gave directions.
But, my Yankee friends, there are three non-optional things y'all have gotta work on: bras, bathing and air conditioning. Because of the lack of air conditioning, D and I took an obnoxious amount of showers every day. Leave our magical little hotel room and instant sweat. Barf. While I'll agree that it was hot, it was a dryer hot than down here. I think the perception of humidity is off because as soon as I got off the plane in Savannah, I was embraced in my lovely, missed warm bowl of soup.
Okay, here's the rough run down:
We arrived. Our hotel was called the Yotel and it was like a tiny Ikea-dreamed dorm room. It was magical. It was amazing. The bed was mechanical. Things were hidden in the walls. There was no separation from the bathroom and now I know my husband a little bit better.
There was food. Burgers. Beers. Another bar, called the Pony Bar. Because pony kegs. A Broadway musical off a book I loved (Wicked). We wandered Time Square. I got my nose pierced in a tiny upstairs tattoo parlor. We ate Italian late at night. We slept for hours and hours on the softest mattress I've touched in my life.
We had the best pancakes at a hole in the wall place. We walked the high line and Chelsea Market and purchased useless beautiful things. We toured the Statue of Liberty and Ground Zero and drank lemonade and ate at a restaurant that I saw a video of on Facebook.
Running in Central Park was attempted until the hills, the only hills in the fucking city, forced me to give up. And we watched carriage ponies and sought out a Mexican restaurant. We saw Coldplay in New Jersey, surrounded by our peers-by-age-alone, via subway and train. We returned from that awesome experience and ordered falafels from a truck outside our hotel at one in the morning.
Breakfast was had at a little hipster place that served tap water from a glass bottle. The nutella, peanut butter and banana sandwich was amazing. Then, I'd scheduled in advance with a tattoo artist whom I loved. I'll write more about this later. After the ink, we went to the Haufbrau Haus, dedicated to our love of German food. Then we picked up real New York style cheesecake and a bottle of wine and retreated to our Ikea dreamworld.
Our last day, we gorged on muffins and rode the subway for the last couple of times to allow me to do some shopping: Lush and Elf. I spent a little money and then we checked out of the hotel and headed home!
Guys, I totally want to go back. Maybe not tomorrow, but definitely at least once a year.
For a fucking introvert, I thrived on the crowds. I mastered jaywalking between waiting cars. I approached strangers and swayed them with my over-pronounced southern accent and pet strangers' puppies in parks. I spoke French twice and gave directions.
But, my Yankee friends, there are three non-optional things y'all have gotta work on: bras, bathing and air conditioning. Because of the lack of air conditioning, D and I took an obnoxious amount of showers every day. Leave our magical little hotel room and instant sweat. Barf. While I'll agree that it was hot, it was a dryer hot than down here. I think the perception of humidity is off because as soon as I got off the plane in Savannah, I was embraced in my lovely, missed warm bowl of soup.
Okay, here's the rough run down:
We arrived. Our hotel was called the Yotel and it was like a tiny Ikea-dreamed dorm room. It was magical. It was amazing. The bed was mechanical. Things were hidden in the walls. There was no separation from the bathroom and now I know my husband a little bit better.
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| Like an immediate about-face from the first photo. |
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| Sliding glass door and a curtain. We've got a solid marriage, guys. |
We had the best pancakes at a hole in the wall place. We walked the high line and Chelsea Market and purchased useless beautiful things. We toured the Statue of Liberty and Ground Zero and drank lemonade and ate at a restaurant that I saw a video of on Facebook.
Running in Central Park was attempted until the hills, the only hills in the fucking city, forced me to give up. And we watched carriage ponies and sought out a Mexican restaurant. We saw Coldplay in New Jersey, surrounded by our peers-by-age-alone, via subway and train. We returned from that awesome experience and ordered falafels from a truck outside our hotel at one in the morning.
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| Try fitting a saddle to that shark fin. |
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| Human on left, chimp on right. |
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| Gotta go, my ride's here. |
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| Right before I accidentally slammed some kid's head into this display. |
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| Double-fisting. |
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| Fancy Coldplay watches. |
Breakfast was had at a little hipster place that served tap water from a glass bottle. The nutella, peanut butter and banana sandwich was amazing. Then, I'd scheduled in advance with a tattoo artist whom I loved. I'll write more about this later. After the ink, we went to the Haufbrau Haus, dedicated to our love of German food. Then we picked up real New York style cheesecake and a bottle of wine and retreated to our Ikea dreamworld.
Our last day, we gorged on muffins and rode the subway for the last couple of times to allow me to do some shopping: Lush and Elf. I spent a little money and then we checked out of the hotel and headed home!











































































