This weekend I went to the beach for the first time in New York. I hadn’t ever been to the beach in NY because coming from California, I didn’t see the point. I was mostly wrong.
Jamie and I boarded the NYC beach bus yesterday morning at 9 AM in Williamsburg. We paid $10 to take a school bus to Far Rockaway with free beer and fun music. The beach was well kept and beautiful. We walked along the boardwalk where various venders where selling everything from pickles to roasted peanuts to jewelry. Having never been to the beach on this side of the of the country, I didn’t have a beach towel. So when we happened upon two lovely ladies selling what they boasted as were “resort” towels, I picked one up for the bargain price of twenty dollars.
We found a spot a few blocks down near a lifeguard tower that was inhabited by 20-somethings in bright orange shirts. Laying my new resort towel out and laying down to soak up the rays was everything I remembered it being in California….the sound of waves crashing, the warmth of the sun on my rarely exposed skin, the surrender to the beauty of the world and peace of knowing my insignificance in it. I read my book for a short while before inevitably succumbing to the early Saturday morning and taking a nap. We attempted to go for a swim but when we dipped our toes in the water, we were very much reminded that we were not in California anymore.
We rounded off beach day with a trip to Rockaway Beach Surf Club for tacos and margaritas. We each ordered two fish tacos and just as many drinks. The people watching was great and the walk to the subway was easy. All in all, a wonderful beach day.