Travel: May 2006 Archives

Have you ever taken a photo and then when you uploaded it to your computer (ah for the days when I would have said "gotten it back from the lab"), you think, "Now why did I take this picture? What is going on here?" Such it is with this photo. To the casual observer, it looks like a group of people sitting down on a little stone park space. What you are missing is the incessant drum beat that was reverberating throughout the town. What you are missing is the center of the town of Woodstock, which for all of its rather normal looking stores and restaurants is still--at its heart--a town for hippies. Of course, what's painfully obvious to everyone but the people in the drum circle is that the very thing that made Woodstock special (I know, I know the concert wasn't actually in the town) has done a remarkable job of turning the area into a tourist destination, albeit a very  nice one with recycling bins almost everywhere.

But I digress, Woodstock is a quaint, charming town. Our first stop was into the Center for Photography at Woodstock. It's free (minus the very non-threatening donation box), and showcasing some great work for such a small space. The most moving was an installation of Ruth Adam's Polaroid pictures that she took of herself daily as she went through treatment for Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

In our afternoon about town, we hit up a homey bookstore, scoured a flea market, bought a few cute T-shirts, explored the Kenneth L. Wilson campground and, most importantly, had fabulous pizza at the Catskill Mountain Pizza Company. Perhaps it was a reaction to the lingering sting of  L&B, but from the first crunch to the last crumbs, I was digging this pizza, man ;)

Bonus recommendation: If you go to Woodstock over Memorial Day or Labor Day, look for the signs for the huge vinyl and CD sale, and then check it out. The guy running the sale has thousands of CDs and records and isn't afraid to make a deal.

Next up, Harry's Water Taxi Beach!

It's really kind of shameless of me to open with this photo taken on City Island Saturday afternoon. But it's such a great visual of the quirkiness of the town, and it shows the beautiful backdrop of water that surrounds the island. If only Jimmy Hoffa's grave were so well-marked.

How to describe City Island? In some ways its a quaint town that still shows its fishing village roots, while catering to a certain casual visitor who likes antiques. This would be the side of the island that one sees before 5 p.m. Near dinner time, the island turns into a traffic funnel to and from the fish shacks on the water's edge, packing in Bronxites in unbelievable numbers.

Our favorite find was a record store, Mooncurser, that lost its lease and was closing after the weekend. Despite the shutdown, the owner wouldn't cut a deal on any of the records, and says he plans to move to Ebay. It's too bad because I would definitely come back to browse through the collection, heavy on Latin and with a well-represented classical music shelves. We also got a ton of classic disco records and didn't even make it halfway through those bins. (FYI: The guy starting to pack away the hundreds of thousands of records in the store was not the dude in this article.)

Our least favorite discovery was that the fish shacks at the end of the island are overpriced, overcrowded and kind of nasty. An order of crab cakes ($11), which contained no crab, was a stupid mistake. Fried shrimp were better ($12), but that's a hard order to mess up. We saw lots of people walking out with king crab legs (fried), but at more than $20, we decided to pass.  What are the good City Island restaurants?

Next up: Our adventures at Woodstock!

1. The people at the rental car office are friendly
2. The only real transportation option is the rental car
3. When you turn the rental car on, it's hooptie shakin' music all the way
4. You immediately run into traffic
5. You pass a strip club and/or sign for a strip club
6. The glare from the next car's LED rims is brutal
7. There's no one on the streets at 11:30pm on a Monday
8. The kitchenette in your hotel room is bigger than your NYC apartment kitchen

Posting might be a little light this week, but I promise to bring you more flava from ye old Dirty South!