What… no Champagne?

First night in New York city and I was pumped for a night out on the town.  My feet on the other hand were not so pumped as I high heeled it over a couple of blocks to Hell’s Kitchen to meet my family.  Now I haven’t seen my family here in New York for 20 years.  The last time I saw them I was 9.  So I am 29 now, that makes it now just over 20 years.  Ok, ok well the last time I saw them was 1983, but what’s a few missing years and my real age got to do with it?

I am so happy to see my cousins. Well actually I believe it is meant to officially be first cousins once removed or something like that, but second cousins sounds better for family tree sake.

I cried when I saw Luis, for he had been my favourite when I was 9 years old.  I think he expected a loud mouthed 9 year old to come around the corner.  Little did he know at first glance that I am still a loud mouth if that’s any consolation!  It was so awesome to have dinner with Rose, Lydia and Lisa who was born years after I had last been.  Truly special.  Family is so special, and I will blog about family and elaborate later.  A few short lines just doesn’t seem to do it all justice right now.

So dinner and a trip down memory lane flew by and I was off to meet Alifiya in Soho. I was excited and stopped in to put on my 5 inch heel ankle boots for an over the top experience.  My feet were killing me, but as I have said before, I dress for style not comfort.  I push on.

My cousin Lisa said we should try a range of bars down in the Avenue A and B area and we head straight there.  Lif and I are ready to get our drink on, and as we both have aching feet, we think the sooner the better.

After getting through the door, an ID check and all… (God bless you New York), a champagne and a vodka are on the order.  Until they have no champagne.  No champagne? Where am I Kalgoorlie? Oh no they probably have champagne.  This is ludicrous!

Out the door we go, hobbling down the street like we have bound feet from 16 century China.

Second bar, ID check (God Bless you New York), and we hit the bar again… No champagne. Right we must be lost.  This can’t be New York, and I start to cry out in pain.  No not the feet – I am in pain because of the champagne. 

Lif said she had to sit down, not sure how the Chinese did it back then with bound feet and all, so I agree and we sit.  Our night out hasn’t started so well as I am not sure who is more upset, Alifiya with me because I only drink champagne or me with the bars that they don’t stock it.  Seems incredibly strange and I start to break out in a sweat.

Out the door we go again and straight into a cab.  This cycle repeats itself 2 or 3 times, before we decide we will go to Mulberry.  If only we could find it.

We bump into some Australian guys at the front of an Australian bar.  I absolutely refuse to go in.  I think because of my insistence that we would not go into an Australian Bar in New York they so kindly send us on a bum steer to another bar on the next street… that wasn’t open.

Right, well me and my loud mouth will take the blame for that one.

Finally Caryn calls and gives us directions to an incredible little bar called Tartinery thankfully just around the corner.  We bolt for the bar stools in this quaint little place and I start to feel like I am in New York. 

 

At that moment, there could not have been a better wine list and I yell Pommery please! and our night finally begins…



Luis monkey-ing around New York 1983