Hot hot heat II: Sunday

On the hot hot weekend the other week, Jus and I dragged our drippingly sweaty selves to Madison Square Park where the Big Apple BBQ Block Party was in full swing. Jus and I thought we'd make the quick walk from our place and check it out briefly and then head to Governors Island, thinking it might be some sleepy affair with a few stands of ribs. How is it that we've lived here all this time and still think anything could be small scale in a city of 18 million? Bit daft due to the heat perhaps.

We arrived and the square had been transformed into a BBQ-off between various Pitmasters from Texas and the Carolinas, the true home of BBQ (or perhaps the closest BBQ-obsessed states to NY). Thousands of people were lining up to get their full of beef brisket, pulled pork, cornbread, potato buns, beans, coleslaw, sausage, crawfish and okra hush puppies and pickles, washed down with beer or Snapple or the latest version of Vitamin Water or root beer floats, followed by S'mores or bourbon, banana & nilla (vanilla) pudding, double chock brownies and PB&J (peanut butter and jelly) cupcakes.

There were VIP queues for people to get the crackling ("that don't come free, sugar") and to skip the lines of plebs who just thought they could rock up and sample a few novelties. Jus and I split up to cover more gourmet ground and reassembled with beef, sausage and a pulled pork sandwich. Sat on the lawn and listened to bluegrass and twangy country tunes, while our t-shirts clung to our back and our legs got sticky itchy on the grass. Couldn't stay in this un-airconned locale for long.

Due to the sweltering temperature we weren't really that hungry but we made room for S'mores and Nilla pudding on the way out.

We caught the train downtown and took the ferry to Governors Island, a tiny islet about 10 minutes ride away. There was a jazz performance featuring music from the Great Gatsby era, and people were encouraged to dress up and go along. We didn't dress up but there were plenty of flappers and men in shirtsleeves and vests and boaters dancing away to the band, who were also dressed in shirts and bowties and hats and had a microphone from WWI and a megaphone to broadcast their tunes. It was very 'wah wah' if you know what I mean.

Governors Island is car free and there is a bike hire place so you can explore. Tour buggies make laps of the island and explain its previous use and the significance of all the old buildings that once housed the Coast Guard. Thousands of people used to live there and now it is one big national trust site. It would make a great uni campus.

It was cooler on the island - actual sea breeze! - and after people watching for a bit we walked to a spot that looked out to the Statue of Liberty and spread our towels and read. Cruise ships slid by, obscuring the statue so that each vessel looked like it had a hand and a torch poking out of its roof.

NYC does excellent thunderstorms, and we ended up fleeing the island when extreme weather warnings were issued and the tour buggies turned into 'round everyone up and get them out of here' vehicles. On the ferry ride back we watched fork and sheet lighting dazzle Brooklyn and felt the air get so heavy with humidity that the eventual torrential rain was just a formality.

The thick heavy drops that rain here are a revelation. I think living in a drout for so long at home does something to your relationship with water. Jus and I stand in our living room and just watch it pour out of the sky, hour after hour, tropical strength. "It's still raining. " "Will you just look at it. " "Is that more rain?" "Has it stopped yet?" Within minutes the African immigrants are selling umbrellas on every corner, there are drenched cyclists tooling along aimlessly and shrieking women protecting their do's.