In which Layla and Roz visit City Island, drink cocktails, go rowing and attend a book event.

by Layla

Yesterday started off as usual with my regular trip to the corner shop. I was greeted with "Good morning. A large coffee with milk, and a bagel with cream cheese?" which was either pleasing or embarrassing. We skipped the bagel as we wanted to get up and out. After a tasty bowl of granola in lovely Jane Street coffeeshop Grounded, we walked to Union Square to catch the number 6 subway to its very end. I have a particular penchant for doing this anyway, but yesterday we had a specific purpose: a journey to City Island. Said island is at the furthest reaches of the Bronx and resembles a New England fishing village, and Roz has had a random dream to visit since she saw the film by the same name, depicting a very sweet little sleepy fishing community that contrasted massively with nearby Manhattan. So, at the end of the line (Pelham Parkway), we hopped on an X29 bus and found ourselves sitting with a very different type of New Yorker. There were no high heels or designer outfits in sight. Somewhat akin to our bus companions in Staten Island last year, but a tad more blustery. And everyone seemed to know everyone else.

Soon we zipped over the bridge and the sign stood out: Welcome to City Island. Hooray! The island consists of one main street that runs the length of the island (1.5miles), with little residential streets branching off (the island is half a mile wide). We settled down in the City Island Diner, bustling and apparently right out of a 1950s film. I had a strawberry milkshake and a veggieburger and chips; Roz had a more abstemious Greek salad wrap. Sated, we proceeded to wander around the island, going down sleepy residential streets that all led to the sea, sparkling in the sun, and with the New York skyline visible far away through mist. We loved looking at the film-perfect houses with white picket fences and verandas and massive American flags hanging from each door (try that in Britain and people would assume you belonged to the BNP). We also came across a special bin painted with American symbols for the specific purpose of 'retiring old flags - giving them a dignified disposal'. Onwards we walked, appreciating a house with a massive Halloween display in the form of an inflatable lifesized carriage driven by a headless horseman and carrying a Dracula who bobbed up and down. It was quite a sight!

We walked back to the bridge to the island and sat by the water, awaiting our bus back to the subway and back to Manhattan. We decided to stop off at the Central Park boathouse for cocktails by the water. It was much more serene than the weekend chaos. We sipped Boathouse Pink Lemonade cocktails, munched a giant cookie, and then took to the water, rowing around the picture-perfect lake in the sun for an hour. Beautiful.

When we had finished we took the subway to Soho, and to the Pegu Club, a cool, casual and attractive cocktail bar on West Houston Street. It takes its inspiration the Colonial era (the original Pegu Club having been in Burma). I had a strawberry daiquiri, Roz had the Pegu Club house cocktail (already a classic in 1930), and we people-watched with much enjoyment until it was time to move on, to the McNally Jackson bookstore, where there was to be a reading by Joseph O'Neill, author of Netherland which we loved, promoting his book Blood Dark Track. Fantastic venue and interesting guy. He spoke for an hour, and afterwards we walked around the corner to our restaurant for the night, me discussing how unpleasant I had found his very posh, clipped English accent, and Roz pointing out with some bitterness that she had the same accent as him! Oops.

We were slightly too early for our restaurant reservation so tried to go to a bar called Latina Oficina, only to be told it was not open (though had people in it!) and settled down with a glass of Sancerre next door til 9pm came and we returned to the restaurant. Peasant is possibly one of the coolest restaurants I know. All high ceilings, exposed brick, open kitchen, very chic, and packed with fashionable people. Which is unusual - usually in NYC we find ourselves in comparatively fancy venues with people wearing jeans and jumpers. We feared we were underdressed... Roz had told them when booking that this was our anniversary trip so they gave us a free glass of pink sparkle on arrival, which was a lovely touch. The service remained impeccable, the food was amazing and the prosecco delightful. A superb meal.