Last weekend, my friend and I went to New York City for Columbus Day weekend – more like for 30 hours. We arrived Saturday afternoon at 1 pm and left Sunday at 3 pm, so it really was quite short! We didn’t really have much of an agenda, other than to eat, walk, and shop. Really. We didn’t do anything but those things – no museums, no shows, no clubs, just food, and lots of it!
What I didn’t expect was to feel a strong sense of homesickness, even though we were only four hours away in the “big apple.” In fact, our original train ticket back to Boston left Sunday night at 6 pm, but after a long day of traveling, eating, and walking around on Saturday, we unanimously decided to change our train ticket to leave New York City earlier and get back to Boston a few hours earlier (and paid money for it…). Also, side note, I realized after booking my train ticket that I actually didn’t get Columbus Day off, what?! #adultproblems
Prior to the trip, I did some research on specific food places I wanted to hit up. I even created a Google map and starred all the places I was interested in. Guys, I don’t mess around. On the list: cronuts, burgers, delicious cookies, boba tea, etc. The problem is, you can only eat so much in 30 hours!
We went to Dominique Ansel Bakery for some cronuts, but were sad to find they were sold out (as of 10 am that morning!), but there seemed to be another line for “cookie shots.” My friend and I decided, “why not?” and we proceeded to wait in line. Man, people in New York love waiting in lines… Long story short, it was a neat experience, though the cookie wasn’t anything to write home about, but at least we can say we waited in line for the infamous cookie shot and got a picture. That’s really all that matters, right? 😉
All in all, we had a great 30 hours in NYC. We ate lots of food, had some soul filling conversations, and walked many many miles (thanks Fitbit!). In my mind, New York has always had this shimmering, bustling reputation, where the “lights are so bright” (cue Taylor Swift). Yet, when we were there, it wasn’t as shiny, dreamy, or breathtaking as it seemed in the movies. I’ve been to New York before, but this time, I missed Boston. I missed my bed. I missed my friends. Most of all, I missed my home. So, we took an earlier train home, watched the presidential debate with our lovely housemates, and had a great night’s sleep in our own beds. Man, it felt good to be home.