For some reason, I forgot the simple pleasure of relaxing with the Sunday paper. But that enjoyment has been rekindled on my weekly bike ride up the greenway on Manhattan’s west side.
Normally I head north from midtown and head past the relaxing vista of the 79th Street Boat Basin (where recently a yacht resident thrilled the public with his nude morning dip in the Hudson!) and to my turnaround under the George Washington Bridge.
Recently I have taken to heading south, looping beyond Battery Park City to salute Lady Liberty at South Cove and then… committing cardiac and calorie harikari and treating myself to a guava cream cheese french toast, decaf cappucino and the New York Times.
I’m sure you can spot the problem. Yup, that toast probably requires looping the entire island of Manhattan a few times just to burn off the delectable guava syrup finish. Plus the inexplicable waiting period at the otherwise delightful Pan Latin Cafe, is a further negative.
But the paper… and the cappucino… they may have to stay. Although I do feel awful that I barely make it through a few pages and end up recycling perfectly pristine pages later in the week. However, those few minutes of serenity; me, a park bench, the company of naught but a few finches (okay, when you are accompanied by the toast, make it a flock of very friendly finches) still makes it worthwhile.
As does something else. The NYT Magazine is proving to be a favourite “read” of someone else in the family too. It’s format, soft pages and content have provided Calvin with a surprising amount of pleasure in the paging, crumpling, ripping departments as seen above!