Feb 13, 2005Brooklyn really grows on me. The more I explore, the more I find, the more I like. We took a little bike ride today, cold weather notwithstanding. It was one of those crisp, clear mid-winter days, the temperature hovering under 40 degrees. But the wind of the past few days had subsided and it was lovely for just tooling around on the bikes.We headed north because I wanted to take a close look at the Fort Green Prison Ship Martyrs monument. It's said to be the world's tallest free-standing doric column and it has a very interesting history. Click on the link above if you want the full story. Briefly, this is the third incarnation of a monument to the victims of the British prison ships that were anchored in the harbor during the Revolutionary War. Many of the Americans, men, women and children POW's, who were kept on those ships died from terrible conditions to which the British subjected them.
Fort Greene Park in downtown Brooklyn.
For years following the war, the bones of the prisoners would wash up onto the shores of Brooklyn and Long Island. Following a great outcry and demands for a proper resting place honoring these martyrs, a memorial was built in the early 1800's near the site of the present Brooklyn Navy Yard. When that deteriorated a stone crypt was built in Washington Park (today's Fort Greene Park). and finally, by the end of the 19th century money was raised for a much grander memorial. It was unveiled in 1908 and was designed by the prestigious firm of McKim, Meade and White. It stands today, slightly faded, but still magnificent, 148 feet tall, overlooking downtown Brooklyn, the East River and the towers of Manhattan across the river.
The park itself is worth a visit by anyone interested in exploring old Brooklyn. It is up high and thus the park and the tower have a commanding view of the surrounding area. It lies a few blocks east of Flatbush Avenue, sandwiched between Myrtle and DeKalb Avenues. On the other side of DeKalb is Brooklyn Technical High School. DeKalb Avenue has come up (like most of downtown Brooklyn). It's a very sweet road that has some interesting stores and great restaurants. The blocks surrounding the park are lined with fabulous old brownstones whose value are now reaching astronomical heights. The entire area has a wonderful feel to it. Check it out. Take the Q or B to DeKalb Avenue (the first stop in Brooklyn after you cross the Manhattan Bridge). Get off and walk east down DeKalb until you reach the park on your left (just past Brooklyn Hospital). On your way home you can stop for a nosh of some of the world's greatest cheeskecake at Junior's restaurant on the corner of Flatbush and DeKalb Avenues.
The base of the tower is inscribed with this sign.
Stacey walks around the base of the column.
The monument is up high in the middle of Fort Greene Park.
The park is filled with fabulous, old London Plane and Gingko trees among others. A wonderful place to bring a picnic or a book and just hang out.
Feb 13, 2005Walking out yesterday for our morning coffe and bagel, we spied the early signs of spring in our neighborhood. Yes, for all of you in the borough of towers (Manhattan) and other places north, you might be interested to learn that the crocuses are raising their sleepy heads and poking their stiff little selves through the frigid February soil. Flowers will follow in a few weeks. Stay tuned.
Little, tender crocus shoots coming up in mid February.
We love our new-found coffee shop. Great coffee, wonderful bagels, friendly employees and Mary, the owner, is the nicest. Goodbye Starbucks. Hello, Prospect Perks on the corner of Flatbush Avenue and Sterling Place, just 2 blocks from our house. Usually, we'll hit the gym a few times a week and then treat ourselves to coffee a bagel. You see, we have to put back the calories that we lost at the gym.
Our morning coffee and a bagel is here at Prospect Perks Cafe.
Mary's son owns a restaurant around the corner, a barbecue place, which we have yet to try: Biscuit. You can find it by spotting the pig out front beckoning customers in.
Say hello to Mr. Piggy at Biscuit on Flatbush Avenue.
Feb 9, 2005
Seems like we're back from the tropics forever, but it's not even a week. Looks like we played our cards right - we left and it was frigid and 12 degrees; came home to moderating temperatures and today it was downright warm. However, tomorrow we're expecting a "wintry mix," as the weatherpeople like to phrase it. That means "crap," as I like to phrase it: rain, sleet, snow and cold. Brrr.
We took our friends and upstairs neighbors for dinner on Friday last - this, as gratitude for catwatching. We were going to try Franny's, the great pizza place we discovered a few weeks ago (and have been to twice thus far) but it was mobbed with a 45-minute wait. Um, no thanks.
Instead we headed to Dekalb Avenue - whoever thought that Dekalb Avenue would become the hot and trendy place it is today? It's lined with cute shops, restaurants and cafes and has a nice low-rise feel to it - with "downtown," hi-rise Brooklyn at its western end.
New York magazine had written up a new restaurant on Dekalb that we had tried several times and really liked: Ici - which is French for "here." Apparently, the owner, Laurent, was featured in some recent reality show about running a restaurant. Pardon this un-TV-American for not knowing the actual name of the show. Ici is French but with (I think) American/Southern highlights. A bonus: they serve Sullivan Street Bakery bread (their crusty and crumby Pugliese) which we're crazy about and, in my book, that puts a restaurant in the "good" category before I even sample the cuisine.
As it turned out, the food is excellent so we decided to take our friends there to try it once again. Dishes include skate, an intense and flavorful beef stew and a braised pork shoulder which is, how do the French say?? - oh, oui! ev'-en-ly!
Diane, Rock and Stacey at Ici.
Another view of Ici - which is in the ground floor of an old brownstone on the corner of Dekalb and Vanderbilt Avenues.
On Saturday, we went for a long walk. Weather was nice again, so we walked all the way over to Brooklyn Heights. Our destination was Sahadi's the mideast market that we frequent. But it was so mobbed with Saturday shoppers that we decided to return during the week. Instead, we had some lunch at a disappointing Indian restaurant on Montague Street (Amin - you can skip it) and then walked most of the way back before we caught a city bus.
Atlantic Avenue is more and more interesting. It's been coming up for a long time. And there are many cute shops - antique stores, gift shops, restaurants (again). The buildings lining the street are two and three stories and old. Many have been renovated and painted in lovely colors and, with the exception of too much car and truck traffic, it's a nice place to stroll when you have nowhere in particular to go.
Antique stores on Atlantic Avenue.
An old church on our walk down Atlantic Avenue.
As we reached Brooklyn Heights, I found an old friend - a beat up Citroen 2CV. Back in the 60's my dad had bought me one of those cars and that one was replaced later by still another. He had one of the larger and more deluxe Citroens. But I loved my "Deux Chevaux" (two-horser) which looked like an upside down trash can with wheels. Not often seen in the states, there were mass demonstrations in Paris when the manufacturer discontinued making them in the 90's.
This has become a cult classic, much like the VW Beetle and other beloved cars. A quick Google search for "Citroen 2CV" will find dozens of sites, if you're interested.
A well-used Citroen 2CV sitting on State Street in Brooklyn Heights on Saturday.
The Citroen badge.
Walking back late in the day, the sun was dipping low in the sky and painting the buildings with its intense winter color. We caught a bus about half way back and took it to Washington Avenue. From there we walked the few blocks to our house, tired but energized by a great day out and about in Brooklyn.
Late day sun on a Brooklyn apartment house in Cobble Hill.
Sign seen on a city bus: "Keep arm in." Does that mean it's ok to stick your head out?? Weird.
Feb 3, 2005
I'm writing this Blog as I sit in row 19 of American Airlines flight number 1488. We're headed back to New York from Dominica, via San Juan, Puerto Rico. It's been a wonderful week - an escape from the frigid weather to a tropical wonderland. This was not your typical Caribbean resort as this island has not been developed like so many of the others. Like those, it remains desperately poor, the victim of globilization and a neo-colonial economy. But there's not even a touristy facade of glitz here. The cities or towns are poor and rundown with a minimum of services. Unemployment is severe and many people eke out what seems to be a subsistence living. Of course, there is a middle strata and some people live comfortably. A few are even very wealthy. And there are the white ex-patriates, many of whom own businesses and who are very comfortable.
On our last full day in Dominica, Rachel took us to Champagne beach. This was south of Roseau on the coast. We had passed it the other day on our way to Scotts Head, where the Caribbean and Atlantic met. One of the reasons for the lack of tourist development is the absence of sandy beaches. Champagne was no exception. So named because of sulfur bubbles that constantly rise from the sea bed at this location, it's a favorite place to snorkel and observe the marine life. As you float on the surface, bubbles rise all around you from the floor - you're swimming in bubbly!
Stacey checks about a piece of coral on Champagne beach.
We had to walk several hundred yards down a "beach" filled with rocks varying size from golf balls to basketballs - not an easy feat and very hard on the feet. Rachel had forgotten to tell us about the hard going and we were both wearing sandals, not ideal for scrambling, or stumbling, on this boulder-strewn shore. On our right, the ocean. On our left, sheer cliffs covered with dense vegetation.
"Why are we walking so far down the shoreline, I asked Rachel. "Because that's where the bubbles are", she replied. Well the walk was bad enough. Now we had to get into the water. Even harder. We, very slowly, made our way to the water's edge, sat down, leaned forward and inched our way into a floating position as soon as we could get deep enough to clear the submerged rocks. But it was worth it. Beautiful fish of various colors were playing amongst the air bubbles. The water was comfortably warm and calm.
Stacey and Rachel endeavoring to enter the water.
Mountain meets sea - Champagne Pool, Dominica.
We returned to Roseau at 3:30. We were to meet an acquaintence of Rachel's at a bar in town. She was delivering some soap that we liked which was made locally in Dominica. She never showed but while we were waiting, Oliver showed up and we finally met Rachel's dear friend (who she had been telling us about all week), Penny. While we were waiting, I ventured out to the street and noticed that next door was a restaurant that espoused its connection to our very own neighborhood in Brooklyn, which is home to many Caribbean immigrants.
The Brooklyn - Roseau connection.
The bar at Symes-Zee's restaurant.
Penny and Oliver.
We were planning to have dinner out for our last night in Dominica and we invited Penny to join us. Dinner was at the Fort Young Hotel in Rosseau.
The Fort Young Hotel was quite lovely. It's a hotel built around a historic fort. Part of the dining area is on an upper deck looking out to sea. It was a beautiful evening, perhaps 70 degrees with an aromatic and warm breeze wafting in from the water. The sound of the waves provided a very romantic backdrop to our dinner.
Dinner at the Fort Young Hotel.
Oliver, Penny, Rachel and Matt at dinner.
After dinner, Ollie wanted to check out a pre-Carnivale music show being held down the coast at a club. We drove down the road but a mile away from our destination, traffic had come to a standstill as hundreds of cars converged on the festivities.
Ollie dropped us off and we walked on. The place was mobbed with people pushing to get in. This was not my idea of pleasant night out. Paranoia set in and I announced my intention to avoid what appeared would be a crushing crowd inside. Oliver and Penny decided to tough it out. Stacey, Rachel and I drove home. Oliver appeared, not too much later and essentially validated my feelings. It was very, very crowded and not pleasant. Too bad we couldn't stay for next week and Carnivale with its street parades, bands and costumes. Maybe next year.
.....
This morning we woke early, finished packing and the four of us headed to our usual haunt, CocoRico Cafe for our last breakfast together. Rachel avoids going to the airport if possible - it's an hour or so away and then back again. So she went home and Oliver took us, kindly as he certainly is, once again on that crazy, twisty-turning, mountain road across the island to the Atlantic side and the airport in Marigot.
This was a wonderful adventure and very much different than the typical Caribbean trip that you might be familiar with. If you want to visit an unspoiled island of indescribable natural beauty, make Dominica your destination.
The twisty-turny road to the airport - through the mountains on a road barely wide enough for one car.
Stacey at the airport in Marigot, Dominica, waiting for our flight home.
Our airplane arrives late. A half hour later we were on our way to San Juan, Puerto Rico and then on to New York.
We arrived home at 11 pm (midnight, Dominica time), tired but happy. And ecstatic to see our Pumpkin cat who had been alone all week wondering what happened to us. Our beautiful upstairs neighbor, Diane, had been caring for Pumpy. On top of that, she greeted us and homemade a pizza for us. Now that's a neighbor that everyone should have. Oh, and one more thing: we can't believe that the snow is still on the ground. It's been 85 all week. Why doesn't it melt already??
Stacey and Diane, Anchovies, salami and onion: Voila! Pizza at midnight! And it was good by the way.
Feb 1, 2005
Today we just hung around. Which was fine with me. And yet, as our final day approaches (we return to NY on Thursday), I feel like there's much more to see on this small island. Maybe we'll return again to explore some more.
Oliver and I drove the short distance into Roseau for breakfast once again. This time we abandoned the already-familiar Cocorico for another of Ollie's haunts: the Quatre Wheel. Oliver could be the mayor of this town. He knows everyone. When we're in town, not a minute goes by before he's greeted or he's greeting. "Hoy!" he shouts to his friend - which sounds Irish or Scottish to me - or "Partner! Whats'up?" Olliver tells me he eschews politics but if popularity is the deciding factor he'd make a fine candidate.
Before we started out for breakfast the masseuse arrived for Stacey. This was her daughter. Say hello to Hallie.
The menu at a local "snackette." Ollie and I stopped after breakfast for a glass of fresh grapefruit juice.
Oliver was taking me for a brief tour of some more of Roseau's highlights. First a trip up in to the hils above town, a bit more upscale than the shanties that make up the bulk of residences down below. This was the neighborhood of "Beverly Hills" as it's referred to. Lovely and larger houses perched on the switch backs with fantastic views of the city and harbor below.
Dominica is 95% Catholic. A large white cross blesses Roseau from the hills above and that was our next destination. Once again, I was enthralled by the topography here. Volcanoes have formed a mountainous and convoluted island, cut by cliffs, ravines, valleys and rivers. From our vantage, standing next to the giant white crucifix, we could look out over the city and beyond to the horizon.
A giant cross looks over Roseau.
Looking down on Roseau and the Caribbean.
When we returned from town, we walked down to the river. Rachel's place is in a valley at the edge of the rainforest. A path had been cut and some rocks placed in the stream to dam it up. This is Rachel's meditation grotto.
Bathing beauty at Rachel's grotto.
Stacey and I decided to do some tourist shopping in town and Rachel lent us her car again. She stayed behind to do some business and paperwork. We drove in, I being a real right-sided pro by this time. Parking is compounded by angling the car to the sidewalk while not getting to close so as to avoid the drainage ditches that line every road and street. They are open, sharply defined and dangerous to vehicles which can easily have their wheels impounded in a moment's lack of attention.
Deep ditch on the side of the road. Notice the planks to cross onto your property from the road.
The ever-present ditch on the side of Dominican steets and roads.Notice the car in the background, straddling the ditch.
The market, such as it was, was an enclosed square of stalls displaying local crafts. This has been set up just across from the cruise ships and is meant to appeal to the disembarking tourists. Even though two large ships were in town, the market was nearly empty. Most travelers were probably out on tours of the natural beauty for which the island is known.
Before we entered the market we stopped for a homemade juice drink from the Juice Man. A banana, some pineapple or mango or papaya, sugar, ice and water into the blender and here's your drink. Very refreshing.
The juice man. Yum.
Living dolls. At the crafts market in Roseau.
A quick shot across from the market - Roseau color in tropical sunlight.
Hinge and painted window - Roseau, Dominica.
Stacey bought a few baskets, a doll, some coasters and other chazerai. Then we walked around town a bit and headed back for home and dinner. Tomorrow, Wednesday, we might get a chance to see the island from Rachel's boat - if she can get her skipper to launch it from the dry dock where it's been resting.
Jan 31, 2005
We started the day at Cocorico again. Oliver took us into town and we had a nice breakfast while we admired the cruise ship anchored at the town pier. This one was from Germany - the Aidavita. When a ship comes in, Roseau is flooded with tourists roaming its streets and shops.
Breakfast at the Cocorico Cafe again.
Today's menu at Cocorico.
Rachel took us on another tour of her island today. This time we headed south along the coast for fabulous views of the Caribbean as the road climbed to great heights only to dip down through ramshackle villages. Dominica, like most of the Caribbean is terribly poor. Here and there are nice houses and small villas. But most people live in one room shanties fashioned from corrugated steel. They're run down and, for the most part, in terrible condition. Unemployment hovers around 30% and in each village we saw many people just sitting and standing, waiting and waiting. What successful businesses there are seemed to be owned by white foreigners. Dominica won its independence in 1978 but colonial domination of the economy is still the order of the day.
A cruise ship, the AIDAvita from Germany, and a tall ship in the harbor at Roseau.
Twisty-turny roads in Dominica.
We came to the tiny village of Soufriere. Here we found a beautiful old church tended by a French woman. Walking down to the sea, Rachel pointed out a little pool that had been crafted from stones that had been piled up in the ocean - the purpose was to create a hot tub. Examining the water more closely, I could see bubbles of gas escaping from the ocean bottom. A man was taking a bath. He cautioned us that the water was very hot and, indeed, it was.
A local man taking a hot bath in naturally hot sea water at Soufriere.
A beautiful old church in the village of Soufriere.
The inside of the church with its folk art mural.
On we drove until, eventually, we arrived at Scotts Head village. Here, at the southernmost tip of the island, the Caribbean Sea met the Atlantic Ocean. I climbed the head, a tall and rocky promontory, for a fabulous view of the two great oceans. In the distance, looking like Bali Hai from the movie South Pacific, stood the neighboring island of Martinique.
Here, at Scotts Head, is the Caribbean (left) and Atlantic.
Martinique was visible to the south. We were under a black cloud that threatened (and delivered) rain.
Stacey and Rachel. Looking back from whence we had come. Clouds are hanging low on the coastal mountains.
On the way back, we stopped at a little restaurant for a beer and chicken stew and the drive back up to Roseau and home.
The road takes us back to Roseau.
