Since the LAST damned entry apologized for a prolonged hiatus (and I’ve subsequently taken the entire rest of the year off) we’re just going to dispose with any additional mea culpas and public statements of regret about constantly meaning to slap up some new pics /get up to date on ol’ TastyTreks (and generally just act virtually alive) and grossly failing to do so. True, I do hope to get a regular respectable frequency nailed down this year which shall last forevermore, but you know – it’s January fifth, so we’ll hafta see how we go.
Being that we left off in bloody April, I’ma speed this up to more of a macro level. Or at least shut up more and let the pics speak for themselves. Frankly, I was toying with the idea of doing ONLY pics and stopping my rambling narration, but I recently saw a couple of blogs that were graphics only and they were kind of… well, boring. So we’ll shoot for some sort of random fluctuating balance, I reckon.
Right then. My next tourist priority was to investigate the brownstone-laden neighborhood called Brooklyn Heights and its adjacent neighbor DUMBO (Down under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass).
Since the transportation system in Brooklyn gets a little ‘cain’t get thar from here’ –actually, I think that’s the most annoying thing about the borough overall besides the cost of living / staying there: taking the subway from Gypsy’s home in Prospect Heights to Williamsburg, for example — just over 2 miles almost dead north — in many cases means going all the way into Manhattan and transferring trains just to come back out to Brooklyn!—I took the bus up Flatbush Avenue and walked around the edge of the island through the parks that line the waterfront in this area.
It’s actually pretty park-y in a lot of areas of Brooklyn. The feeling of overall ambient space is quite different from the feel of Manhattan, and not just due to the numerous green areas. When a married couple I’d chatted with for a few hours in a bar invited me to tag along to her cousin’s bday party, I could tell upon emerging from the subway that we were in Manhattan just by the sensation of air pressure on my face – sorta like cat whiskers. And I liked Brooklyn’s ‘biggerness.’ One didn’t feel so squished-up and corseted by concrete.