Winter storm Niko produced hazardous conditions in New York.

Out of my Comfort Zone

Last week Mother Nature dumped about ten inches of snow on New York City. From my hotel window, I saw that few people were walking or driving. I turned on the news and the newscaster said that the blizzard conditions were deadly because a doorman had slipped while shoveling and had fallen through a window and died. They were warning people to stay off the streets. Though I was in New York to see my daughter, J, the news report made me think about falling on the ice, and I was apprehensive about leaving the hotel. I had already fallen twice in New York, and wine was not involved.

 

The first time, I was walking on a pretty day with J, and I tripped over a sidewalk crack and I was down on all fours. Ok, I really tripped over my own feet.

 

J had said, “Mother, get up before someone falls over you and hurts themselves, you’re fine.” Though I was shaken, I got up like nothing had happened.

 

The second time I had fallen, I was wearing boots with little tread and it was snowing. I was sliding all over the sidewalk like I was on greased ice. I resembled a three-year old that had never ice skated before, and I grasped my husband’s arm like it was the wall that child clung to as he encircled the ice rink.

 

When I almost pulled my husband down he said, “What’s wrong? No one else that is walking is acting like you. Let me see the bottom of your boots.”

 

I lifted my smooth-bottomed Ugg. He said, “We’re buying you boots.”

 

Unfortunately, I didn’t get those boots fast enough, because within minutes, I slipped and fell on my back. Since I had already made a scene, my friends laughed because they thought that I fell on purpose. Did they really think that I would lie on the dirty New York street in my dress coat just to entertain them?

 

I was thinking about these previous trips, when J called and said that it was just slush and she insisted we go out. She is determined that I am not acting old no matter what, and she digs me out of my comfort zone.

 

She said, “My eighty-year-old superintendent is out shoveling snow, so if he can go out, you can too.”

 

J had come to get me, and I stepped outside and tentatively took a few steps on the sidewalk to determine if it was slippery.

 

“Mom, if you walk like that, it looks like you are trying to fall, so can you just walk like everyone else?”

 

I walked but watched the road for ice. J was ahead and she casually glanced back ensuring that I wasn’t sprawled on the ground. As we walked to J’s apartment, I told her that I was not relishing ascending the steps to her sixth-floor apartment, actually twelve-half flights, but who’s counting unless you are gasping for breath.

 

J said, ” There are 80 year olds that live up there, and they take the steps everyday and carry groceries, it just takes them a little longer. If they can do it, so can you.”

 

After visiting her apartment, we walked her neighborhood. I was glad that we had this time together and when I left, I thought about those snow-shoveling-eighty-year-olds. I know that I will live a fuller life if I listen to J, but I hope that she doesn’t kill me in the process.

 

Related Posts

 

https://dorothyadele.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/growing-older-but-still-having-fun/

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Goat Shot on Virgin Gorda

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Shots fired from the dirt road on Virgin Gorda. (Photo by dorothyadele)

Goats bleating and roosters crowing, some clueless about dawn’s arrival, awakened us each morning in Virgin Gorda. Skittering anoles, singing frogs and dancing butterflies made us feel like we were in a sanctuary safe for all. Unfortunately, that changed today.

I was sitting on the porch sipping coffee when I spotted a pickup truck driving down the dirt trail adjacent to our rental. It stopped. Someone perched a rifle, or similar firearm, out the passenger’s window. Lights flashed as four shots blasted from the gun muzzle through the thick brush, just yards from our residence. Goats bleated, and one screamed louder than the rest for longer than I wanted to hear.

As the whimpering subsided, the truck crept haltingly down the mountain, made a full stop, then proceeded to the bottom of the hill and turned around. As it ascended, I saw what I believed was a goat carcass in the back of the truck.

Though the slaughter disturbed me, someone was making their living on Virgin Gorda.

 

Related Posts

https://dorothyadele.wordpress.com/2017/01/14/why-we-like-virgin-gorda/

230 Fifth in Manhattan — A Must Visit

We step up to the largest rooftop bar in Manhattan, 230 Fifth on 27th and 5th Avenue. The Empire State Building towers past palm trees and pink and white flowers that spill from containers.

The Manhattan skyline offers a spectacular view as we sip a cocktail and escape from mad-motion Manhattan. Even though the weather is drizzly and cool, the patio is partly heated and customers don soft red robes provided by the staff. Large umbrellas hover over tables for added protection.

During harsh weather or if a nightclub atmosphere is preferred, customers can enjoy the view from the fully enclosed lounge a floor below.

230 Fifth is open everyday from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. and serves brunch on Saturdays and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The cost is $29 for adults and $15 for children.

They offer an appetizer through dessert menu and  bottle service. With bottle service, a customer can buy a bottle of alcohol for several times the retail price like a Grey Goose Magnum for $575.

The food and drinks are also pricey. The cost for a Chicken Caesar Salad  is $16 and a Strawberry Mimosa is $15.

Though expensive, the spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline makes the price palatable. Anyway, where else can you wear a robe in a bar?

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Hawaii

Oahu, Hawaii Bus Tour — A Humorous Experience

When I was in my 30’s, I won a company sales contest. The grand prize was a trip to England or Hawaii. I chose Hawaii.

As part of my prize, my company planned guided tours on Oahu, Hawaii. I felt obligated to attend the first tour, and I disliked it and it became my first and last bus tour.

Following are some reasons why this tour influenced me to never take a bus tour again:

1. I had nothing in common with my bus mates who left the bus to take pictures of pineapples in fields and then took close-up photos of them. I wondered if they took pictures of pineapples in grocery stores.

2. My tour mates reinforced that I had nothing in common with them when they stepped off the bus again to photograph field and close-up pictures of sugarcane. At this point, I wanted to return to my hotel because I thought that I was in hell.

3. The bus driver repeated incessantly that there were no snakes on the Island. He said it so many times that I started to suspect that there were some. In addition, I had a nightmare about snakes and the bus driver.

4. I was stuck on the bus all day when I wanted to lie on the beach, enjoy a casual lunch, and read my book.

5. Everyone on the bus carried bags and cameras and resembled Terry and Tommy tourist. I hoped no one recognized me with this motley group — even though I probably fit in more than I will admit.

6. I didn’t like to get shuttled to a tourist-trap restaurant where the bus driver seemed chummy with the owner. The food was terrible and I couldn’t get a cold beer to escape my misery.

7. Everyone on the bus was old — like I am now. But even though I am old, I still won’t get trapped on a bus.

8. I prefer to eat with the locals and determine when my tour begins and ends.

This bus tour affected me for life and left me with humorous memories. However, no matter how old I am, you won’t catch me lined up to board a bus with old people like me, unless I am forced.

Fenwick Island, Delaware

Woman Makes Scene in Restaurant Over Spilled Wine

This image shows a white wine glass (WMF Easy)...

This image shows a white wine glass (WMF Easy) with white wine. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wednesday night, we dined at Nantuckets in Fenwick Island, Del. As we enjoyed our meal we saw a waiter, who appeared about 20-years old, trip and spill a glass of white wine on a lady at the next table. The waiter looked terrified as the lady ranted about the wine. My husband said to the woman that at least it wasn’t red wine hoping that she would stop berating the waiter.

The woman complained and the manager visited her table. Customers in our dining room made eye contact and smirked at the irate woman. I suspected that her overreaction was a scam to get a free dinner or maybe free meals for her table.

As I watched this minor incident, I remembered how my husband reacted on two occasions when someone poured a large glass of red wine on him — and no it wasn’t me. On both occasions we laughed and he ensured that the person who spilled the wine did not feel guilty over an accident.

On the positive side, the woman’s behavior provided entertainment to the patrons in our dining room.

The fountain in the courtyard at The Setai

Tranquility at The Setai resort in Miami Beach

Roses and an orange in the lobby at The Setai

Roses and an orange in the lobby at The Setai )photo by dorothyadele)

The Setai hotel in South Beach Miami, Fla., is rated one of the top luxury hotels in the area. The art deco design, peaceful ambiance and outstanding customer service places The Setai in a unique category.

Upon entry, the hotel’s atmosphere transports visitors to a tranquil resort. Oranges are displayed in clear glass globes on wooden tables in the courtyard and along the walkways to remind visitors that they are in South Florida and not just in an Asian retreat.

As we entered The Setai, the front desk agent greeted us and gave us cold lemongrass iced tea and warm moist hand towels to freshen us while we waited to check in. The dimly lit hotel and lobby made me feel like I had entered a spa.

As we exited the elevator and walked toward our room instrumental music drifted through the hall. We entered our softly lit suite and heard music that had previously been turned on.

A suite at The Setai in Miami Beach,Fla.

A suite at The Setai in Miami Beach, Fla. (photo by dorothyadele)

Dark cherry colored wood floors, cream-colored walls and sleek brown rectangular tables and lamps create a peaceful art deco design in our room. A comfortable king size bed is set against the far wall beyond a brown square table with two chairs. The hotel management is serious about relaxation, and it was the first hotel room that I have visited that didn’t have an obvious clock.

Room amenities include a large bathroom with double-above -the-counter sinks and a large shower. The overhead rain shower and the wall system stream water from two directions.

Guests may brew tea, espresso, regular and decaf coffee with the shiny black and stainless Illy coffee maker in the room. The coffee maker includes a steam wand for milk frothing. The Setai also offers a beach bag and umbrella for guests to use while visiting.

The hotel has three large pools set at different temperatures. Large comfortable lounge chairs are near the pools and on the beach. Between the pools and the beach is an outdoor bar and restaurant. The food is excellent.

I have never visited a hotel comparable to The Setai. The Setai’s soothing atmosphere, muted decor and superb customer service offer the traveler a unique experience.

The Setai lounge near the pools

The Setai lounge near the pools (photo by dorothyadele)

Manhattan Bicycle Rickshaw/Pedicab Scam

 

A pedi-cab in Times Square in NYC days before the new years 2011 party. Photo taken on: December 25th, 2010

Credit line:© Michael Ludwig | Dreamstime.com

A pedicab driver scammed my daughter and me in Manhattan recently. My daughter and I Christmas shopped for several hours one day in December. As we walked towards our hotel, we decided to climb into a bicycle rickshaw. The driver gave us a heavy wool blanket and rolled down a thick plastic sheet for warmth. Our pedicab weaved in and out of swarming -yellow taxicabs. Some came within inches of our cart. I contemplated jumping out, but I stayed to enjoy the relaxing adventure with my daughter.

 

After six blocks of horn-screaming bumper-to-bumper traffic, my heart was pounding. I had enough fun.

I was looking forward to a great dinner with my family, so I wasn’t ready to die in a pedicab. (They would never let me live it down.)

When we exited the rickshaw, the driver said that we owed him $40. As I questioned him about the price, a man pulled up next to us and asked about our discussion. I said that the driver charged us $40 for pedaling six blocks. When the man glared at the rickshaw driver, I knew that we were scammed.  I tossed $20 to the rickshaw driver and walked away.

I researched pedicab companies to learn the appropriate cost for pedicab rides. The Central Park Pedicab Tour site’s price list seems reasonable. Also, The NYC Pedicab Owners’ Association offers tips to avoid scams. My advice is to negotiate a price before climbing into a bicycle- rickshaw -death trap.

What has been your experience with pedicabs in Manhattan?