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I had had plans last night, but they were cancelled last minute, and rather than use the opportunity to stay home and do laundry, I decided to go downtown and hear some jazz at Smalls. Good decision. Except when I got home I had no cell phone. Today I called my phone and discovered it was at the bar at Smalls. Whew. So I decided to go get it and take the opportunity to do a photowalk on 10th Street from Seventh Avenue to the West Side Highway.
Now I'm not finished with the Chelsea walk but I'm tired of it. Aren't you? It's been going on for 4 weeks and showing no sign of ending. So I'm just ending it before its time, and moving on to the Village.
Mary Sargent © 2010 ……………………….. click to enlarge
Here's 10th Street at Seventh Avenue and that's Smalls over to the left, but since it's impossible to see it at this distance, below is a closer shot.
Mary Sargent © 2010 ……….......………….…………… ………………….. click to enlarge
Isn't it cute? It's a small basement room and instead of tables, they set up rows of folding chairs and people sit there like they're at a concert. For that reason, I prefer to sit at the bar. The music starts at 7:30 and goes on "all night" and $20 gets you in for the night.
I wasn't paying any attention to Cafe Condesa, but Googled it at the last minute and discovered it's a hidden gem, a place to put on the list. Take a look.
See map.
Monday, April 19, 2010
West Village, 10th Street Between Seventh Avenue and 4th Street
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3 comments:
Perfectly in tune - the "Smalls" - with my latest hangup of a telemarketing robot saying "Attention: Small Business Owners." After "small" I heard "business" just as I was about to click off. And now I see "Smalls"! Amazing (there MUST be a god). And there is, but not in our universe.
I stumbled across Cafe Condesa one morning when I was coming from somewhere. It was right across from a restaurant you and I had eaten at that week (diagonally across)--some form of asian/ some kind of discount. Anyway I had breakfast--french toast. I think it was good, but it took a long time to make on those burners, I guess. Several (other) older women wandered in with newspapers. And a tourist family. Strange place.
It's the kind of place where you're sort of wandering around looking for some place to sit down, and the door is open and you find yourself at a table.
Sorry, I didn't read further. It was the Chow Bar. But you know all this.
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