We moved today from our grand splurge to more realistic accommodations. We will be staying for the next three nights at the Townhouse Inn of Chelsea, a bed-and-breakfast that received rather good ratings on TripAdvisor and booking.com. It’s a bit of a letdown after our glorious accommodations overlooking Central Park, but we will be fine I am sure. The room is somewhat dark as it is in the back of the building, but there is absolutely no street noise even with the windows open, and given the fact that it is on West 23rd Street, that is a minor miracle.
John and I decided to sign up for three days with the Citibike program. We decided to take a ride back through Central Park to the Metropolitan Museum. John knew that there was this huge fashion display there and he wanted to see it. I lasted about five minutes before begging permission to explore some other part of the museum. John as you can see below spent much more time here.
I am not sure if anybody was even supposed to wear this one.
The fabric is kind of cool on this one, but it must be designed for some woman with awfully long arms.
This one is rather startling, though I am not sure if anybody I know would look good dressed like a sponge.
No surprise — this one is a wedding dress. But unless you were getting married at Saint John the Divine I suspect the train would still be at the front door when the bride had made it to the altar.
I explored lots of old stuff like this Assyrian bas-relief,
a reconstruction of a Roman bedroom,
Art Nouveau furniture,
and stuff from Africa.
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Meanwhile, John also discovered something that looked like the set from Psycho on the roof.
As we were riding back, I made John stop so I could take this picture. That way I figured we could tell everybody that we had seen Hamilton in New York.
In the evenings we went to Fun Home, the Broadway musical. I found the story quite engaging and the score was pretty good for that modern Broadway style.
After it was over, we walked around. Times Square at night. While it is hardly as seedy as it was when I first came to New York in the early 1980s, it did not strike either of us as being quite as cleaned up as it was ten years ago.
