My friend Dallas is in town for a few days on business, and had time today to hang out with me. He was excited to allow me to show him around New York a bit, and so was I. I imagined we would stroll through some of the many interesting and beautiful neighborhoods of New York, stopping in various cafes, restaurants, and shops along our way. When I woke up this morning and looked out the window however, imagination gave way to cold wet reality in the form of blustery torrential downpours. So a change of plans took us to a nice long lunch (with truly amazing banana cake) followed by a trip down to The Tenement Museum for one of their fascinating 2 hour tours. When it was over, it was still pouring madly, and the wind was something fierce, twisting our umbrellas and soaking us despite our best efforts. Realizing that we were none too far from a lovely little place called Freemans, we made our way there, arriving quite drenched but happy to be indoors with a hot toddy and artichoke dip. We dropped our soaking umbrellas in the can at the door with all the others so as not to drip all over the restaurant, and sat down at a table by the window. As we were enjoying our drink and dip, I glanced out the window to notice one of the patrons leaving. He looked quite a bit like Colin Farrell I thought, and then I looked down and also noticed that he was carrying an umbrella that was strikingly similar to my own. I turned back to my drink and conversation, not giving it another thought. That is, until we got up to leave and I noticed that the bastard had in fact made off with my umbrella! I rooted about in the can and took one that looked busted up (probably the one he left behind) and we made our way as quickly as possible towards the nearest subway. It was so windy that I had to abandon the brittle thing I was carrying as it split apart in the wind. At that point I just accepted it was my lot in life today to be not just wet, but drenched and cold. I made my way into the subway, then walked the several blocks back to my place from the exit, dripping comically as I entered my building.
This was going to be a blog post about our lovely trip to the local market in Arequipa this morning, complemented by lovely photos, especially one I took of the many varieties of potato they have here in Peru. Instead, this is a blog post about how my camera was stolen just outside this same market. As we were leaving the market on a crowded street, someone from above or behind spit heavily on us, causing a man (the accomplice, clearly) behind us to cry out in disgust (as did we). During the moment of disgust, someone grabbed my camera out of my pocket. We didn’t even realize until sitting down at a cafe that we went into to wash ourselves and have a coffee.
Oh well. It wasn’t a particularly expensive camera, I am just slightly bummed that my lovely market photos are gone, and that I fell prey to the type of diversion that I am well aware of (having been traveling the last 2 years). On the other hand, I am quite fortunate that nothing major was taken and we weren’t harmed in any way. C’est la vie, no big deal.