I've been criticized for mapping "too much" (ahem, Anna), but then how else would I figure out where to go and how to get there? I WOULDN'T.
Sunday S and I rode to a bunch of places again. Good, wholesome, cheap fun.
First we wandered off to find a small tucked away clothing market that was referred to in a blog as the "ironic sweater market" because of selection of unintentionally tacky items. After a little hunting, we found the inconspicuous entrance and then promptly bought Sierra a nice fitting jacket with an embroidered eagle and sequined skyline on the back. We bargained to essentially $6, but probably could have gotten it for $3. Silly foreigners.
We rode on and checked out a big park a few miles up the road. I thought it might be cool, but it was just crowded and really not pleasant, which of course completely defeats the purpose of a park. At any given location on the spacious grounds, we were accosted by the competing wailings of several amplified singers. Without amplification, one singer would have been quaint. But with 2 or 3 in earshot at any given spot in the park, we promptly decided to flee.
We rode along and I failed to find a bike shop I wanted to visit, so we turned and headed to the art district. Before heading into the polished galleries, Sierra and I stumbled across a relaxing open field among crumbling ruins.
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| An unassuming entrance |
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| Graffiti in the art district |
I guess we didn't take any pictures of art inside the galleries. Some of it was intriguing, but I guess we're more interested in decrepit buildings.
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| One final self portrait on the way home. |
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