Cyclists and their food. It’s like journalists and free pizza (and booze).
Stayed in Brooklyn for Saturday’s bike ride, and went to the Brooklyn Flea Market in Fort Greene.
The ride was a lot shorter than the one to The New School, but it was still hot. Hot enough in fact, that I was sweating more from walking around the school yard lot than biking itself. (Gross, I know.)
But back to the biking.
The one-ways are still a little trippy, but so are the signs that are bent all the wrong ways. Almost missed a turn going home because of that.
Going to the flea market was pretty straightforward and uninteresting. I did see two little girls try to make plastic bags float in the wind. It was a really nice moment of fun in its purest form. I mean, really. A plastic bag…
Coming home was straightforward too, but it was a different atmosphere.
I could’ve easily been told “oooh, you shouldn’t go down that street” because some of those streets looked a bit iffy. But it only looked iffy because the streets were gross, or the buildings were run down.
In DC, the only neighborhoods I travelled in were “good” neighborhoods.
Here, I easily went through all sorts of neighborhoods: those considered “good” and those considered “bad.” It was kind of a surreal experience, one that I’m sure will be a continued part of my biking adventures here in the Great Apple.
The flea market was an interesting mix of old-timey pieces, great for the collectors in us all, and some newer pieces from local artists and shop owners. And there was food.
Always, the food.
Got myself a tuna-mayo onigiri (rice ball) and a chai drink with lychee jelly chunks. The onigiri was so good, like a taste of home.
With the sun beating down on me, and my back getting baked in the rays (hello, awkward bike tan lines), I shuffled around on the black top. Jewelry, leather bags, antiquey things. All out of my price range.
And just when I thought I’d leave home with only a belly full of onigiri and lychee jelly chunks, I spotted some bike-related art. Didn’t really plan on getting anything, but in the spirit of “treat yo self,” I bought myself a small bicycle print.
Thinking about taking a trip down to the Park Slope flea market, though, I’m sure it’ll just be more of the same ol’ things.
‘Til the next adventure. And remember…