Back to New York

Argyll and I returned to New York together to get his gears looked at again.  We started out from a different train station.

ny-mParking was a challenge, but if it hadn’t been, we would have missed this wall of green, as well as the back of the abandoned stationhouse.


Not to mention an up-close look at an electrical tower complex.

nym-twWe weren’t all that early, but we also managed to watch a few trains go by.

nym-sptThe one above is regional rail, and below, Amtrak, headed westward.

nym-amThis was a turn-around trip:  I was carrying Basil’s O bag (or, rather, Argyll was) and just a day pack with a change of clothes.  (The day pack is wearing my high-vis vest — that’s what “city chic” means to me!)

nym-lgI was sitting directly across from Argyll when I took this picture; we’re practically alone in the quiet car. nym-tnk

I always forget how industrial is the approach into Philadelphia.


After all, why wouldn’t it be?  Rail-yards are the essence of industry.

The last few times we went to New York, water levels were at record highs; this time they had ebbed to more usual levels.

nym-flThe sky can be surprisingly variable during the relatively short trip to New York City from Philadelphia and points west — a journey of only two to two-and-a-half-hours.


Though I often read on the train, I love the view outside the windows, always the same and ever-changing as it is.

nym-fpMy first stop, even before I head out to The Manhattanites’, is always here, at “Around the World“, an international magazine store specializing in “Fashion Publications”.  Fashion magazines do nothing for me, but I do sew from European pattern magazines, and this is the only place I can buy them.  (Also, I like the proprietors.) nym-tn

I couldn’t get the train I wanted, so Argyll and I had a few hours to noodle around on the Greenway, and to enjoy my favorite tunnel view, at 181st Street.

nym-orArgyll is getting as used to going to Fairway Market as is Basil.  We picked up a baguette, some grilled artichoke hearts (to swoon for!) and cheese:  a “Great Hill Dairy Blue” bought solely because it is made “on the shores of Buzzard’s Bay 50 miles south of Boston” because who am I to resist the call of buzzard’s bay? and a Gloucestershire offering called, horribly, “Slack My Girdle”, which I bought in spite of the name, and which turned out to be an excellent cheese.


I couldn’t get the baguette into the O bag, and Argyll still didn’t have his saddle bag,  Fortunately, I always carry a shopping tote and I had already attached the straps for his (future) bag, so I tied the tote to the straps to anchor it.  The tote was bungeed to the rear rack, too, but of such amorphous shape, and of such slippery material, that I was unsure about its ability to keep from shifting.

nym-pvThe Greenway detour just north of Fairway is no more; in its place is this gleaming new pathway, so it’s smooth sailing all the way to the market now.


Argyll posed with the George Washington Bridge in one of the little byways that dot the Greenway, and also stopped to check out the flowers, just coming into bloom in early June.


The next morning, we returned to The Sign of the Brompton(s), aka NYCeWheels, and whatever was still misaligned in Argyll’s gearing was set right — and has been so ever since.


(Really, best trade sign ever, don’t you think?)

Argyll was quite please to be in proper running trim.

nym-pDr. Diarist was equally pleased once I got Argyll home to him.

nym-cThen Argyll and I hopped on an evening train and said good-bye to New York (for now).

We waved to night-time Philadelphia, and its hideous screaming-blue-neon advert as we went by.


That neon blue reflects nicely in the Schuylkill River, but I can’t help thinking of this kind of willingness to let business dominate the landscape as a form of civic dysmorphia.

And then we were home.

7/7:  Various edits, due to complaints on the home front: capitalization, correction of British spelling because, uh, we’re not in the UK.  Note to self:  coffee first, blog post second.

16 replies on “Back to New York”

Very nice report, especially as it involves NYC.
I am not very patient to bring home a Baguette, especially if it doesn’t fit in my bag.
I will eat it until it fits in my pannier :)

Glad y’all had a great time!

Peace :)

Anyone who can spell Schuylkill should get a pass on odd caps and Britishisms.

I love the variety and contrasts of all these photos! And I’m impressed that you preserved the integrity of the baguette; I’d just fold it in half.

“Schuylkill” is about the only word I can spell now, thanks to the laziness so well-cutlivated by spell-check. It was so weird that I had to learn to spell it.

I like your very practical baguette solution, Cathy; I have no idea why it never occurred to me. I went to school in France — perhaps I’m the victim of subliminal indoctrination and left those fair shores believing that one always carries the baguette home intact? Time to break those shackles — and the baguette as well!

Ah, those “…complaints on the home front”?! My response is usually, “wait ’til your blog…” – but I’m still waiting.
A gentle reminder on the Brompton Tech videos? – although I suspect the trip wins hands down?

Sadly, the complainant is almost always correct — and I’m too complusive to resist making the corrections once I know they’re needed.

Those (excellent) tech videos are on the list, Ian. It’s not just the trip, but Life, which has interfered with my viewing pleasure. Also, I’d really like to have the bike stand set up, and Basil on it so that I can maximize the experience.

For some reason, I can’t convince Dr. Diarist to agree to let me keep the bike stand in the house, and the basement needs an overhaul before there will be room down there; more stuff for the never-ending-list-of-things-which-must-be-done. Some people! It’s not as if there isn’t room in the house . . .

If it helps, rear wheel removal doesn’t need a workstand; just park Basil & remove the wheel from that position. For front wheel removal, park Basil & then rotate your Brompton so that the back of the saddle sits on the ground (sort of like a rearing stallion?). Pretend you’re in the wilds somewhere & keep those videos handy. No, maybe it wouldn’t help?

It does help, Ian, though the phrase “pretend you’re in the wilds somewhere” strikes fear into my heart! As a muddling household do-it-yourselfer, I’m far too used to getting imbroiled in schemes that don’t always work out as I’d intended. I fear for my beloved Brompton!

However, as one of our national presidents famously said “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself”. Getting over this is also on my list; mostly, though, I just need that most elusive of commodities — enough time to do everyting I’d like to do!

I wish the mere thought of doing this didn’t intimidate me so. Brommie, what say we lobby NYCeWheels for a Brompton maintenance workshop?

Yes! Cathy, I think that’s a great idea. I have the vague feeling that they did this at one time, though where, I can’t imagine, given the size of the shop. I’d pay good money, though, if it came to that; it would be very reasuring to be dismantling our Bromptons where an expert could reassemble them in case we failed to!

They did it once, and when I asked if they might consider another Jack said it was under discussion. Maybe I’ll email Peter.

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