The morning after our arrival into the Big Apple, Sweetman’s shopping spree, the dinner with God/Goddess, and a romp around in the wonderful bed, I decided my day would be spent walking through Central Park. My plan was to eventually end up at the Metropolitan Museum.
Before I departed the safety of the Intercontinental Barclay, I stopped by the concierge’s desk.
“How do I get from here to Central Park? And from there, how do I get to the Metropolitan Museum?” I asked.
“When you go out of the building, take a left onto Lexington. Follow to Sixth Avenue. Take a right. Follow to Fifty-sixth. You should see the park from there.”
Well, something like that. I wrote: L, R, L. Easy-peasy. Right? Well, it was until I got inside the park.
“Follow the runners,” He said.
I did.
Great! Where the hell am I?
I stopped and asked runner number one. “Am I going the right way to the Metropolitan Museum?
“Yes,” she said, pointing East. “Find Eighty-Second. Keep following the trail.”
I did, but my intuition told me differently. Ignoring it, I continued on my path toward Eighty-Second East.
My stomach gnawed at me, again so I asked runner number two. “Is this the way to the Metropolitan Museum.”
“Yes,” he said, giving no further instructions.
Still, my intuition told me something different, but I followed the same trek anyway. Why would a New Yorker tell me to go the wrong way. They do know where the Metropolitan Museum is? Right? They live here, after all.
During my lost adventure in the park, I took these awesome pics.
Getting lost wasn’t such a bad deal. Central Park might be brown and the grass may crunch beneath your feet, but it’s beautiful in a nostalgic way.
In case you want to know, the Metropolitan is on Fifth Ave, not Eighty-Second.
I’ll be back tomorrow with what I found at the Metropolitan.
Have great day blogging, reading, and writing!
Shelly
P.S. Remember to save a library!
