Showing posts with label sunset. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunset. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Friday, November 8, 2013
Roanoke River in Salem
The weather has been beautiful and I've been taking advantage of it by biking along the Roanoke River in Salem. Here's a couple of shots, and once again, I'm struck by how different the same scene looks with a flick of the switch.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The Views From Red Hook
The next thing I knew we were careening along the BQE.
On our quest to follow the sun, my friend seemed fine as she kept up with or dodged the trucks and cars, recovered from pothole slams, as she headed somewhere she wouldn't reveal to me. Me? I was getting nervous. As far as I was concerned, we were heading to the sketchy side of Brooklyn.
After we drove around the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel to the other side of Brooklyn where street names were foreign to me, she said we were in Red Hook. Red Hook? When my grandmother lived down there decades ago, we weren't allowed to visit. Now I'm told you cannot touch the rents, and worse, are the price of homes and co-ops. When did this happen?
Amazingly, she found a parking spot close to the area she wanted me to see. Behind a Fairway supermarket there is a spectacular view from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Fairway has outdoor tables where you can enjoy the view while having a cup of coffee, or more. Roanoke should have something like this near River's Edge. We've got the scenery, the space, and with Carillion & downtown Roanoke so close, the patron numbers to support a Fairway, Trader Joes, or any other marketplace that could supply an outdoor dining area. Oh, and we also have trolleys.
My friend still wasn't through with the tour so we drove to Downtown Brooklyn. I've always called it the armpit, an area to avoid at all costs, but she said it's changed. The area is called DUMBO now, and it's become another "can't touch" neighborhood. Of course, there was nowhere to park, so I couldn't witness the phenomenal view I briefly glanced from the open SUV window. We then passed the Barclay Center. If you're going to see a show, there's nowhere to park so you'd have to take mass transit. Yeah, no. I don't care how much you tell me the area is changed. The subway stations there still suck.
The night had to end as my friend had work in the morning, and finding a parking spot by her Bay Ridge apartment could take some time...seriously.
On our quest to follow the sun, my friend seemed fine as she kept up with or dodged the trucks and cars, recovered from pothole slams, as she headed somewhere she wouldn't reveal to me. Me? I was getting nervous. As far as I was concerned, we were heading to the sketchy side of Brooklyn.
After we drove around the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel to the other side of Brooklyn where street names were foreign to me, she said we were in Red Hook. Red Hook? When my grandmother lived down there decades ago, we weren't allowed to visit. Now I'm told you cannot touch the rents, and worse, are the price of homes and co-ops. When did this happen?
Amazingly, she found a parking spot close to the area she wanted me to see. Behind a Fairway supermarket there is a spectacular view from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Fairway has outdoor tables where you can enjoy the view while having a cup of coffee, or more. Roanoke should have something like this near River's Edge. We've got the scenery, the space, and with Carillion & downtown Roanoke so close, the patron numbers to support a Fairway, Trader Joes, or any other marketplace that could supply an outdoor dining area. Oh, and we also have trolleys.
Here's an old trolley that sits to the side of Fairway's outdoor cafe.
The sun had already set over the Verrazano,
and lingered a little longer over the Statue of Liberty.
Looking further east I could see Freedom Tower.
The sky changed by second.
The Lady's torch and base got brighter as the sunset dimmed.
Night fell quick on Manhattan.
My friend still wasn't through with the tour so we drove to Downtown Brooklyn. I've always called it the armpit, an area to avoid at all costs, but she said it's changed. The area is called DUMBO now, and it's become another "can't touch" neighborhood. Of course, there was nowhere to park, so I couldn't witness the phenomenal view I briefly glanced from the open SUV window. We then passed the Barclay Center. If you're going to see a show, there's nowhere to park so you'd have to take mass transit. Yeah, no. I don't care how much you tell me the area is changed. The subway stations there still suck.
And here's one of the last remaining bowling alleys in Brooklyn in Sunset Park, another neighborhood I've always feared. Looks inviting, doesn't it?
The night had to end as my friend had work in the morning, and finding a parking spot by her Bay Ridge apartment could take some time...seriously.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Views From the 69th Street Pier
On my quest to get a nice sunset shot -- Brooklyn has the best sunsets I've ever seen -- we chased the sun along the Belt Parkway and ended up in Bay Ridge near the 69th Street Pier. Of course, there was no parking to be found, so I had to jump out of my friend's SUV, run to the pier and start clicking away. Here are some shots I got from the pier...
I didn't want my friend to get a ticket, because that's all the NYPD seems capable of these days is giving tickets, so I rushed back to her SUV. I looked through the front windshield, saw she wasn't there, and wondered where she went. I opened the passenger door and panicked because I had left my pocketbook on the floor and it wasn't there either. I started fumbling around the floor looking for it. It wouldn't be like her to just leave with the doors open, so I got nervous that something had happened to her.
Suddenly I heard my name being called, "Elena! What the hell are you doing?!" I looked up from the inside of the SUV and saw my friend pulled up next to the SUV I was rummaging around in. Oh shit, this wasn't her SUV!!! I slammed the door, jumped into the right SUV and off we sped, laughing hysterically....
I didn't want my friend to get a ticket, because that's all the NYPD seems capable of these days is giving tickets, so I rushed back to her SUV. I looked through the front windshield, saw she wasn't there, and wondered where she went. I opened the passenger door and panicked because I had left my pocketbook on the floor and it wasn't there either. I started fumbling around the floor looking for it. It wouldn't be like her to just leave with the doors open, so I got nervous that something had happened to her.
Suddenly I heard my name being called, "Elena! What the hell are you doing?!" I looked up from the inside of the SUV and saw my friend pulled up next to the SUV I was rummaging around in. Oh shit, this wasn't her SUV!!! I slammed the door, jumped into the right SUV and off we sped, laughing hysterically....
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Ocean Isle Beach I
If there's a more boring and annoying road than heading south to the beaches from Roanoke on 220 I haven't encountered it yet. If you get stuck behind a moron on one of the many two lane stretches you're pretty much screwed. Such was the case on that one stretch you have to cross heading into Greensboro. It seemed to take forever so when we saw an Italian restaurant we stopped hoping the traffic would free up some. What a great treat Elizabeth's or Francesco's, depending upon whether one read the sign in the parking lot or the one on the canopy, turned out to be. We had a brick oven pizza which was the closest thing to New York Pizza than I've ever had, anywhere. It was a great deal too, $7.99 for a large and I mean a regular large 16" pie. Highly recommend it and wish they delivered to Roanoke!
The rest of the trip seemed to take forever and I could only imagine how much worse it could have been if I had listened to Mapquest's 31 step directions. I promptly threw those out when I couldn't even find half the roads mentioned on my North Carolina map. By the time we got to Ocean Isle Beach we felt like we were driving for days, much worse than when we drive to NYC. I felt doubly bad for my husband the driver who had already put in four hours earlier trying to fix the air conditioner.
If you ever want to get away to a beach where there is nothing to do but relax, then Ocean Isle is the place for you. It's close enough to Myrtle, about a half hour away, if you want the "excitement" but seeing as it was "senior week" there we decided unless we got really bored we would stay on the Isle. Of course at one point we would have to cross the border to South Carolina because 4th of July is coming up, but shhhhhh don't tell anyone.
We stayed at the Ocean Isle Inn, a small place located directly on the beach. Like I said before the only way to go is to get an oceanfront balcony...pay the extra $20. The sound view is nice...
but the windows don't open and there's no balcony. The front desk people are very nice there and the woman told me we had the best room in the house. All the rooms are the same so I guess "best" meant we had the farthest room on the top floor at the very corner away from everything. That was fine until maybe the fifteenth time we had to endure the trek from the car to the elevator to the room to the beach to the ice machine to anywhere. We began referring to it as "The Green Mile." The only thing missing was the prisoner's arms clawing at us as we passed each door. Truthfully I actually preferred being so far away because one of my pet peeves is being too close to the elevator and hearing the doors open all night, or the ice machine and hearing it bang all night. No worries there.
The hotel has an outdoor and indoor pool with a jacuzzi. There's no food or bar on site, a negative, that is easily overcome if you come supplied with a case of wine and because there are refrigerators and microwaves in each room. They do offer a limited continental breakfast, and I will never eat another cheap bagel or waffle again. Just having that option saves a lot of money though, as does the microwave and fridge. If there was an entrepreneur who wanted to make money I would suggest they get a hot dog/knish cart for the beach. They would make a gold mine. We found a really nice supermarket, Lowes, that had some great foods we brought back to the room for lunches. Who wants to hang out at the beach in the morning then get dressed and go out somewhere for lunch? It took us two days to realize that it would be better to just go up to the room, order in from Dominos or eat leftovers, then head back down to bake some more.
When we got settled in we called the boy and he said the Duke had been by and would be back the next day. He said it was really hot but he'd be okay since he was working again. He had hoped to go out with his friends that night but they got called into their jobs so he was going to be alone. Did I detect a little longing for us? He said, no, he was fine and not to worry. He would call us the next day. I felt a little better talking to him but still uptight that the air conditioning hadn't been fixed. I asked the boy what he had for dinner, "Ramen." I hoped that wouldn't be the week's menu.
Once my husband poured me a glass of wine and we sat on the balcony listening to the sound of the surf and gulls my anxiety began to shed a bit.
The ocean is just such a magical place to me. I had grown up around beaches in New York so have always had a special love for beaches and sunsets, especially Brooklyn ones, which are the most spectacular you could ever see. This isn't one of them...
Before we got too comfortable we headed out to an Italian restaurant that we really liked last time, Cinelli's. As soon as we entered I suspected it had changed ownership. The ambiance was gone, it was now beach-like, Ragu-sauced psuedo-Italian "cuisine." The food was poor and the service worse. I hate when I order appetizers before even ordering dinner, hoping the waitress will be smart enough to bring that out first, yet she brings the meal right afterwards when we just had a bite of the appetizer and then asks if we're finished. It's not like the place was even crowded and they had to shuffle us out. That should have been a clue too. I had ordered a split of champagne and the waitress actually asked me if I wanted to keep the bottle. For what? To hit you on the side of the head with? Honey, I've drank Dom and Cristal and didn't keep those bottles so why would I want to keep some crappy brut split? The scary part was the waitress was serious! I asked the girl when the place was sold and she told me it was three years ago. We had been there four years ago. Pegged that one. She also said the original owner was now running a different restaurant, not Italian, which we decided we would give a shot the next day.
Until then, the waves were calling and all I wanted was to decompress so we headed back to the balcony.
The rest of the trip seemed to take forever and I could only imagine how much worse it could have been if I had listened to Mapquest's 31 step directions. I promptly threw those out when I couldn't even find half the roads mentioned on my North Carolina map. By the time we got to Ocean Isle Beach we felt like we were driving for days, much worse than when we drive to NYC. I felt doubly bad for my husband the driver who had already put in four hours earlier trying to fix the air conditioner.
If you ever want to get away to a beach where there is nothing to do but relax, then Ocean Isle is the place for you. It's close enough to Myrtle, about a half hour away, if you want the "excitement" but seeing as it was "senior week" there we decided unless we got really bored we would stay on the Isle. Of course at one point we would have to cross the border to South Carolina because 4th of July is coming up, but shhhhhh don't tell anyone.
We stayed at the Ocean Isle Inn, a small place located directly on the beach. Like I said before the only way to go is to get an oceanfront balcony...pay the extra $20. The sound view is nice...
but the windows don't open and there's no balcony. The front desk people are very nice there and the woman told me we had the best room in the house. All the rooms are the same so I guess "best" meant we had the farthest room on the top floor at the very corner away from everything. That was fine until maybe the fifteenth time we had to endure the trek from the car to the elevator to the room to the beach to the ice machine to anywhere. We began referring to it as "The Green Mile." The only thing missing was the prisoner's arms clawing at us as we passed each door. Truthfully I actually preferred being so far away because one of my pet peeves is being too close to the elevator and hearing the doors open all night, or the ice machine and hearing it bang all night. No worries there.
The hotel has an outdoor and indoor pool with a jacuzzi. There's no food or bar on site, a negative, that is easily overcome if you come supplied with a case of wine and because there are refrigerators and microwaves in each room. They do offer a limited continental breakfast, and I will never eat another cheap bagel or waffle again. Just having that option saves a lot of money though, as does the microwave and fridge. If there was an entrepreneur who wanted to make money I would suggest they get a hot dog/knish cart for the beach. They would make a gold mine. We found a really nice supermarket, Lowes, that had some great foods we brought back to the room for lunches. Who wants to hang out at the beach in the morning then get dressed and go out somewhere for lunch? It took us two days to realize that it would be better to just go up to the room, order in from Dominos or eat leftovers, then head back down to bake some more.
When we got settled in we called the boy and he said the Duke had been by and would be back the next day. He said it was really hot but he'd be okay since he was working again. He had hoped to go out with his friends that night but they got called into their jobs so he was going to be alone. Did I detect a little longing for us? He said, no, he was fine and not to worry. He would call us the next day. I felt a little better talking to him but still uptight that the air conditioning hadn't been fixed. I asked the boy what he had for dinner, "Ramen." I hoped that wouldn't be the week's menu.
Once my husband poured me a glass of wine and we sat on the balcony listening to the sound of the surf and gulls my anxiety began to shed a bit.
The ocean is just such a magical place to me. I had grown up around beaches in New York so have always had a special love for beaches and sunsets, especially Brooklyn ones, which are the most spectacular you could ever see. This isn't one of them...
Before we got too comfortable we headed out to an Italian restaurant that we really liked last time, Cinelli's. As soon as we entered I suspected it had changed ownership. The ambiance was gone, it was now beach-like, Ragu-sauced psuedo-Italian "cuisine." The food was poor and the service worse. I hate when I order appetizers before even ordering dinner, hoping the waitress will be smart enough to bring that out first, yet she brings the meal right afterwards when we just had a bite of the appetizer and then asks if we're finished. It's not like the place was even crowded and they had to shuffle us out. That should have been a clue too. I had ordered a split of champagne and the waitress actually asked me if I wanted to keep the bottle. For what? To hit you on the side of the head with? Honey, I've drank Dom and Cristal and didn't keep those bottles so why would I want to keep some crappy brut split? The scary part was the waitress was serious! I asked the girl when the place was sold and she told me it was three years ago. We had been there four years ago. Pegged that one. She also said the original owner was now running a different restaurant, not Italian, which we decided we would give a shot the next day.
Until then, the waves were calling and all I wanted was to decompress so we headed back to the balcony.
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