Beach Vacation

That's what it felt like anyway - a beach vacation. In reality it was just a bike ride, a few hours in the sun, and a bike ride back home.

Coney Island. A place I had been itching to go see since we moved here, but had never gotten around to. The appeal, you ask?

It's a great place to bring the bikes. 9 miles from apartment to ocean. Not bad.


Also a great place to sit and enjoy the July sun.


You can dip your toes in the water...


... and also get a feel for the local color (read: cigarette butts in the sand).


Cigarette butts aside, the beach! The Atlantic Ocean! Dark bronze, oiled, speedo'd old men not pictured. But definitely there - trust me.


And a boardwalk to boot. It feels vaguely "late 19th Century Atlantic seaside" to me. As though there should be men in straw hats selling tonics.


Latin dancing on the boardwalk. Merengue? Salsa? I can never tell.


Kitsch. And rides. And great people watching.


And seaside food. Clams!


Carnival games.


The parachute jump. Looking geometric against the clouds.