London, episode 2. In which I am given pause.

As I began this final week of the school year and the end of my 28th year in education, I also began looking forward to that great American institution, summer vacation.  I started the week reminiscing about trips I've been fortunate to share with Mari and trips to London and the UK in particular whose treasured memories I have been trying to stitch together to share with you.  Unfortunately, this same joyful week also began with news of yet another crime of senseless and violent hate in a country that I have loved from afar for so many years and that I've been blessed to visit and enjoy several times.

Our London2012 experience especially was unlike any other, meeting and celebrating with people from all over this precious planet, even as we often stepped on one another's toes waiting in line for fast food, (much needed) bathrooms, and secure admission to majestically manmade athletics venues.  Celebrating with people from all over our "pale blue dot" (more below).  Celebrating athletes' accomplishments and triumphs through seemingly superhuman strength, dedication, and discipline.  Characteristics celebrated individually and exemplified even more profoundly through humanity's ability to harmonize with and work with fellow team members to achieve a common goal.

That is why people from all walks of life gather together.

To celebrate life.  (Not destroy.)

To spread joy.  (Not hate.)

These are the reasons why I perpetually look forward to travels with my adventurous wife.

Too much beauty and bounty has been created and provided the world over not to share it with one another.

My sincerest compassion

for all victims (far and wide)

of this week's Manchester attack.

I look forward to continuing my look back at our London travels next blog time as much as I look forward to our upcoming London revisit, part of a sweeping summer adventure that includes visits to cities and countries gloriously ancient yet exhilaratingly new to us.  I am more excited than ever to embrace the unknown because I am always assured through our travels that the one certainty that remains steadfast in a world that appears dangerously uncertain is that you will always find warm welcomes from merry wanderers thrilled to exchange sincere smiles (and cameras) with you.

After seeing Voyager 1's 1990 "Pale Blue Dot" photograph of Earth in its immensely profound universal context, Carl Sagan referred to Earth as "a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark."  He poignantly postulated, "In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."  In Pale Blue Dot, his follow-up to Cosmos, Sagan reflected, "There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.  To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

Amen.

Read more of Carl Sagan's reflections and examine the photo again to be reminded of our ridiculously miniscule place in the universe.

planetary.org/explore/space-topics/earth/pale-blue-dot.html

London, episode 1. In which I get my British on.

This is one of my absolute favorite travel photos.  For obvious reasons.  Maybe not quite so obvious to everyone, so allow me to explain because there is a story (or two) behind this photo.

First and foremost, I love Mari's smile.  She is categorically glowing in this photograph (my proximity and rebellious skull cap may have something to do with that).  It is a favorite primarily for her smile.

Second, that is not a fake background.  We are standing on the perimeter walk surrounding Stonehenge on a very Pooh-like blustery day (that scarf and cap ain't just for show).  In fact, we saw snow flurries later that afternoon while enjoying a hearty dinner at a pub in the nearby village of Amesbury.  The cold temperatures kept visitors away and it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves.  We didn't, of course, and I am thankful yet again to fellow travelers (from Japan this time) for exchanging cameras with us to capture a most treasured memory.

I am also interminably thankful for cosmic circumstances large and small that coalesced to create this seemingly straightforward snapshot.  Nothing is ever that simple and I know it and am grateful every day.
Part of the adventure is also what you don't see in the photograph.  The thoughtful hotel clerk who recommended we take advantage of local travel instead of a large group tour.  The patient gate agent at the station who sold us the correct train and bus tickets.  The lovely locals we met during our 90-mile road trip to and from London.  The driver of our first double-decker bus ride (of course we sat up top and up front). After our bracing yet enlightening circumambulation about the prehistoric (4,000 plus years old!) monument, there was a brief wait for a return bus during which we enjoyed an incredibly invigorating cup of carrot ginger soup whose styrofoam cup presentation and modest food cart origins belied its gourmand grandeur.

Visit Stonehenge for the spiritual experience but stay for the soup.

Loyal readers know that this trip to Stonehenge was part of our 2007 Spring Break and my 40th birthday present travel adventure.  It was also our first international travel experience together and quickly gave both Mari and me the travel bug.  You know the travel bug... no sooner do you unpack your luggage and give your cat some lovin' than you are itching to pack up and get on the road again?  In the first episode of my Paris series I recounted my early attraction to all things British, inspired primarily by the royal wedding of all royal weddings in 1981.  Stonehenge inspired that first trip to London 26 years following Charles and Diana's nuptials, but there would be other London visits with their own inspirations (including fleamarketing, of course) in our travel future.

There would be a return trip to London along with a grand UK-Paris-Ireland adventure for London2012.

The following summer there would also be an extended layover (you know how much we love to extend a layover) on the way home from a Mediterranean cruise.

And stay tuned because you never know when there just might be another addition to our London travels. Another extended layover perhaps with further foreign fleamarket travels?

All in due time.  The list madness for our upcoming summer travels is finally winding down with tickets, reservations, and renewed (in the nick of time) passports finally in hand.

Note.  Don't ever try taking your own passport pictures.

If you do, don't smile or wear earrings (that would be Mari in our case).

I keep meaning to share with you my list making process for travel planning, but that would involve preparing another list, of course.  I also have a very detailed (would I have it any other way?) packing checklist which keeps getting longer upon every return home.  Mari and I have vowed to travel light this summer.  The lightest ever!  (I will let you know how that goes.)

In the meantime, I leave you with another favorite London photo and the promise of more snapshots and stories to come.

Mother's Day. In which tenho saudades da minha mãe.

I think of my mother often and have indeed mentioned her a few times when reflecting on fleamarketed finds that I'm sure would have delighted her as much as they did me when first discovered.  The funny thing is, though, my mother would have hated fleamarketing with me.  She loved to shop, but she didn't like secondhand goods no matter how gently-worn, formerly-loved, or otherwise-hyphenated they may have been.  Few euphemisms for "used" would have appealed to her sensibilities regardless of how delicately I tried to translate them into Portuguese for her.


Despite what I would describe as her only short- coming, I have always been proud of my mom for her courage, determination, and independent spirit.  Independent and strong despite the fact that she grew up the eldest daughter of farmers during the Depression and sacrificed her childhood to raise her younger brother and sisters.  Mom never finished school (only the “basic” four years) because she was a leader, breadwinner, and caregiver in her household.  

Mom was a great cook all her life (as evidenced in most of my “awkward” childhood photos) and was perhaps the first foodie of her generation, always sourcing the best products to feed her family even if it meant growing them herself.  Mom was a miracle worker with greens and I learned everything I know about herbs from going out to her herb garden every night to pick the freshest for dinner.  

Like my dad, my mãe always worked two jobs to provide for our family.  She became an expert seamstress while working as a member of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union in small garment factories that might be considered sweatshops by today’s standards.  Mãe would wake us up for school as she headed out the door every morning to the bus stop.  As we made it home from school, she would just be arriving home to begin her second job and would always have a warm, comforting dinner on the table (even when it was liver that I subsequently drowned in ketchup).  My mom was the ultimate homemaker:  cooking, cleaning, laundry, and ironing (she even ironed the sheets).  Yes.  (At least I know the source of my own obsessions.)  Mãe never pressured us to help with household chores because our jobs were School and Homework.  That’s why she and Dad made the sacrifices they made--why they left their families and homeland to start a new life.  For family.

My grandparents did the same.  They left Brazil with my mom when she was just 6 months old to start a new life in Portugal.  It was her family’s Brazilian citizenship that allowed Mom to emigrate to the US from Portugal on a work visa in 1961.  Mom worked for a year to pay off the debts of her journey and to buy a wardrobe that would allow her to return to her Portuguese village and “find a man.”  Mom’s return to Portugal in August of 1962 resulted in her marriage three weeks later to my dad, a man from her own small seaside farming village who bore the same first and last name as her own father and who was 10 years her junior.  In addition to being an early “foodie,” Mom was apparently one of the first “cougars,” too.

I’m finally having the opportunity to smile as I write this as I think of what my mom was able to accomplish during her life (including US citizenship) and how proud I am to be her son.  She was funny and loving and so talented in so many ways.  She could out-Martha Martha Stewart when it comes to cooking, cleaning, organizing, sewing, and crochet.  One of my tangible tributes to Mãe was spreading the pictured tablecloth she hand-crocheted (she claims it took her a year) on the dining room table in our recently remodeled home. (I confess, the tablecloth was one of the reasons behind the dining room addition.)

There are over 300 of these four-inch round starbursts in the (somehow she knew) perfectly-fitted-to-our-dining-table tablecloth.

At the intersection of every four starbursts, Mom stitched a smaller eight-point starburst (in the center of the photo at left), like so many ethereal supernovae connecting her heavenly handiwork.

I look at it and I am amazed.

I am in awe of my mother's creativity and talent and determination.

And her passion.

I have the great pleasure of admiring this work of art every day as well as the great honor of stitching together treasured moments and memories not always as tangible as a tablecloth, but vividly beautiful to me nonetheless.

I love this photo of my parents, especially since I had never seen it while Dad was alive. We found it while searching for photos to display at his service a few years before Mom passed away in 2013. Seeing them both so happy and so young helped me overcome the bitterness I felt over losing him prematurely and unexpectedly and looking at the photograph now brings me peace because I know they are at rest and not suffering the physical trials and burdens of this world.

Mãe e Pai (Mom and Dad) always managed to find time and the means to make the most out of their one or two week annual vacations and I am ever grateful for the journeys, memories, and (especially) their adventurous spirit.  The photo of my mom at Disney World (Christmas 1979) always makes me laugh because I remember Mickey waving her on in after a group of kids and she wasn’t shy about it.  I think Mickey recognized in her a need to continue enjoying her own childhood which she sacrificed for her family.  Mickey couldn’t have posed with a happier and more deserving subject that day.

Thank you, friends, for indulging me this humble tribute.

NYC Markets revisited, episode 7. In which there is a potato knish in my future.

I cannot leave one of my favorite cities behind without recommending a few more places to visit.  And eat. And shop.  And eat.  That just won't do.  Let me share with you a few more list-worthy locations awaiting your valuable New York tourist time.

A large gap on our NYC To Do List was left by the recent closing of Carnegie Deli (1937-2016), a staple for us while sightseeing and people watching near the upper West side.  It was permanently engraved on our NYC list along with our "usual" and once-blogged lunch (irresistibly shareable tuna sandwich and mile-high 5th Avenue Bar pie).  I know what you're thinking, "Lou, there are thousands of delis in New York City!"  Yes, but Carnegie was special (sentimental) to us, so we needed a replacement.

Mari and I had previously enjoyed a few meals at Ben's Deli in Boca Raton and the Midtown Manhattan location has now earned a spot on our recently revised list.  Visit the main site, then select the Manhattan location for more information, including detailed location information and menu (the mushroom barley soup is a favorite and don't get me started on that potato knish!).

bensdeli.com


Here, Mari caught me with what is
left of our antipasto salad and my favorite meatballs at my favorite restaurant, Carmine's in Times Square.  Thanks to my favorite photographer for snapping the photo and for sharing the family-style helpings (and rolling me back like a giant meatball to our biblio- philic abode for a power nap).

That's a lot of favorites!

Our deli lunch followed an awesome, anxiously awaited, but inexplicably priced ($16.45 per adult ticket at the Regal on 42nd Street) Beauty and the Beast movie matinee.  When did THAT happen, New Yorkers?!  Less expensive than a theater ticket at least, but still shocking to the (out-of-towner) system.

Speaking of theater...

Following our Hamilton disappointment, we were indeed fortunate to arrive in Stella's frozen aftermath in time to make our performance of The Present and witness one of the final performances of Cate Blanchett in her Broadway debut alongside an incredible Richard Roxburgh in the contemporary Chekhov adaptation. Congratulations to one of my cinematic crushes on her first (well-deserved) Tony nomination, announced this past week!

Here, I'm standing in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on 5th Avenue.  Mari and I couldn't remember the last time we had been to the museum, so we took advantage of a free afternoon to view the recent Seurat's Circus Sideshow exhibition (on view through the end of this month).
You can easily spend a day and get lost in a variety of ancient and modern worlds exploring the Met.
I don't need to recommend one of the world's greatest museums to you, but here are more exhibit details and images.

metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2017/seurat-circus-sideshow

Finally, what would a visit to NYC be without a slice (or two) of
New York cheesecake?

Our blustery break (with a final snarkily-sarcastic "thank you!" to Stella) lent itself to a few more visits than usual to one of our favorite gastronomic haunts for afternoon alimentary respites, Junior's restaurant.  Pictured is our second (maybe third) visit to warm up with some "coffee."

To New Yorkers, getting together for "coffee" necessarily involves cheesecake.

On this visit, we had moved on from cheesecake to Lemon Coconut Layer Cake and Strawberry Shortcake. Regardless of the time of day or the weather, be prepared for a bit of a wait because Junior's is perennially popular with tourists and natives alike.  You can quickly pick up dessert-to-go at the takeout counter if your cravings know no patience (believe me, I understand), but save that for a nice day on the patio.  When you visit the website be sure to select the Times Square location (currently on 45th between Broadway and 8th Avenue) if you want to view the temptalicious menu.

juniorscheesecake.com

I am feeling a little sentimental as I leave New York again.  Although metaphorical, my current departure is still sweet sorrow for this native New Yorker.  It's not just the travels, the fleamarketing, nor the delicious delights that I leave behind, but memories both distant and recent.  A continuing motif of mine throughout these humble (and often meanderingly parenthetical) ramblings has been to reflect on the beautiful and unyieldingly good nature of humanity I have seen reflected in the faces I have encountered far and wee (with apologies to another favorite, ee cummings) in our fleamarket travels.  From vendors and natives and fellow camera-exchanging travelers alike, the hard-working, courageous, compassionate people we encounter near and far make travel worth traveling.  Please always remember that if you are hesitant about setting off on your own exploration.

Again, a special thanks to Mari for making my obsessive list making and travel guru services worth every online moment (and every cheesecake bite).

NYC Markets revisited, episode 6. In which I share a new type of collection.

I gave myself a little homework assignment this past week because there are very few things
I dislike more than ambiguity (even more than I dislike homework.) Just how many collections are there in our home?  How many have I acknowledged thus far?
As I was preparing to share the newest additions to my typewriter-ribbon tin collection (yes, that's a thing), I couldn't remember having previously acknowledged it (a passing mention in Chicago-Indiana-Michigan, episode 8).

So, I did what any obsessed collector-traveller-documentarian-(slightly OCD) listmaker would do...

...I made a(nother) list.

In previously blogged order...

owls * white milkglass * paperweights

vintage cameras * vintage razors * cuff links

signed books * Starburst dinnerware * vintage linen tablecloths

Christmas nutcrackers * watches * license plates

snuff bottles * old bottles * Playbills/theater tickets

head vases * vintage tins * porcelain bells

typewriter-ribbon tins * Peanuts collectibles * mortar & pestle sets

roosters * Florentine wood items * teapots & teacups

The length of the list surprised me, but it shouldn't have.  There are indeed many transported treasures that I have not yet shared with you and I also did not include Mari's previously pictured vintage jewelry finds.
Let's just add "jewelry" to the list and call it a (collectors') day.  Eventually, some of our discoveries move on to the hands and hearts of other collectors as we travel and find new pieces for our ever-rotating displays.

One of the best pieces of collecting and organizing advice we ever learned was from professional organizer, Peter Walsh, whose series Clean Sweep was a regular edu-tainment fixture in our home.  This was the program in which beleaguered (not quite yet hoarders) homeowners would drag the entire contents of their overwhelmed homes onto front lawns and driveways so couples could fully appreciate (or not) the magnitude of their stuff.  Peter would eventually guide (sometimes force) his clients to the realization that people are more important than objects and only the most loved items would find their way back into freshly painted and organized rooms.  Peter's final piece of advice before leaving was always, "If you bring in something new, get rid of something old."

Armed with Peter Walsh's advice, Mari and I frequently evaluate our ever-expanding collections (and our deeply-diminishing display space) and a resulting yard sale or eBay purge ensues.  I am approaching that "about to burst" stage of one of my newest collections, but was still able to squeeze in two more typewriter-ribbon tins in the lighted living room display cabinet/entertainment center after returning home from our recent Grand Bazaar NYC visit.  Like most of my collections, I did not start out to collect typewriter-ribbon tins.  I didn't even know such a thing existed or that it was collectible.  I know I grew up with typewriters and there was a manual typewriter in our basement upon which I clickety-clacked habitually through my senior year at Sleepy Hollow High School.

Boy if that baby could talk!

I remember changing the cloth, ink-soaked ribbons on that typewriter a few times back in the day, but I don't recall their packaging.  I certainly don't remember finding them in elaborately embellished tins like the ones I started collecting about fifteen years ago.  I do remember first coming across a few of these tiny font-fabulously emblazoned tins at the monthly West Palm Beach Antiques Festival during a holiday visit to my parents and, since I already collected old tins, curiosity got the better of me and I started a new collection.

The typewriter above is one of the last items I purchased at Picker's Paradise in Niles, Michigan before moving to Texas in August of 1989. I knew it would make a great addition to our future home, representing a formerly-functional yet artfully-crafted connection to a past era as well as a sentimental link to our soon-to-be-deeply-missed Midwest.  What I didn't know was that eventually there would be an appropriately accompanying typewriter-ribbon tin collection to display alongside said sentimental link.

Below is a glamor shot of the entire collection along with some IBM Selectric font elements from the 1970s and 1980s down in front (let's not count that as another collection, please, just a subset).  I am always amazed at the detail on some of these.  Remember, this is basically a box that most office workers or home typists perhaps threw away or hopefully reused to store paperclips or thumbtacks or other tiny office supply storables.  When I came across that vendor at the South Florida Fairgrounds so long ago, I had no idea what I was getting into.  I just liked tins!  And of course I liked typewriters, and fonts, and after purchasing three delicately dinged-up tins for twenty dollars I was well on my way to a new old collection.  I don't come across these very often, but when I do I try to buy the tins with curiously-combined color combinations and cool retro graphics.

I confess, I'm a bit of a font fanatic.  Normally, I like to keep it simple (as with the elegant authority of the Helvetica I've chosen to represent my inner thoughts throughout this blog), but I am a great admirer of the subtle artistic effect a decorative font can have on something as intentionally and essentially functional as a storage container for a typewriter ribbon.  Occasionally, I'm lucky enough to find an intactly wrapped ribbon inside a fleamarketed tin like the round red-cellophaned KeeLox ribbon above.  Should I ever enter that lapse in the space-time continuum that will allow me to put my previously plundered slide rule (Chicago-Indiana-Michigan, episode 2) to practical use I will also be prepared with a freshly inked ribbon for my vintage Royal.

We begin the big thaw in New York next time.

NYC Markets revisited, episode 5. In which we flea and share.

Collectibles have been finding me my entire life.  It is only recently that I have decided to document their appearance and annotate my world-wide search for them.  My first, if you recall (The Owls, episode 1), was my elementary school weather owl and his twin, both of which I still admire daily.  If you have been keeping up and taking notes, there are probably about a dozen collections (publicly acknowledged thus far) gathered (and gathering dust) in our home.

I intend to devote some future blog time exploring more of our collections, but you'll have a bit of a sampling today as I share some of our most recent discoveries from the Grand Bazaar NYC. Mari's market bag was overflowing that day, but as I came to discover a few days ago while gathering items for my photo shoot, I am largely responsible for its contents.

Pictured here is one of Mari's finds on fleamarket Sunday.  We found a fascinating character with lots of stories behind his collectibles, standing behind a table laden with multitudes of obscure objects which some would hardly characterize as collectible, but which by their very eccentricity are now collectibles.

It was like gazing into my not-too-distant-collectibles-trafficking future.

Mari's miniature "spinner" was part of a collection of old game pieces our new merchant friend had himself inherited from another vendor.  Without any other clues attached, we assume the spinner was part of a long-forgotten family board game.  The intricately carved (from bone) pointer hand still spins on its smooth, hand-painted wooden base.  Mari is re-imagining the former game piece as a chic pin or pendant and it is now gathered with soon-to-be decorative projects in her waiting-for-free-time aggregate of goods.

When I first walked into the sunken cafeteria at PS-452, even before we had made our way to our starting corner, I was immediately drawn to a beautifully-displayed collection of vintage and antique teacups.  I don't have an official collection of teacups nor teapots (not really), but there are a "few" of each in our home and yes, there are stories behind a few of them, so I suppose that makes another collection.  Here is my recent purchase from a couple of angles.

You have probably surmised by now that I'm more of a tea drinker than a beer drinker.  Maybe it's the self-professed British in me, but there is something about tea, both its aroma and its social function, that fascinates me.  For centuries, intricately decorative items have been fashioned by artisans to help us not only enjoy the delicate brew, but appreciate its cultural significance, even if it is simply to calm one's ill temper after a stressful day.

I learned a bit about my newest rescued antique from a very knowledgeable vendor who truly values and appreciates her collectibles and did a little more research on my own to discover that my "new" bone china teacup and saucer had been imported from Limoges, France by former 6th Avenue retail giant, Simpson-Crawford Department Store (1885-1914).  Not certain whether it was purchased there by a fashionable New Yorker (perhaps a writer or librarian?) or perhaps even imported for use in the store's tea room, I am ecstatic to have this beautiful bit of history on display in my home.

No need to tell you how nervous I was transporting this treasure in my backpack,

bubblewrap notwithstanding.

Before I forget, here is another tea-themed accoutrement (that's right, I called a cream pitcher an "accoutrement") I rescued.

Not stamped or marked like the carefully documented teacup and saucer from the turn of the 20th century, the barely 4-inch tall pitcher was instead displayed among an eclectic mix of "bargains" in various states of collectability.

You can't exactly call it a "junk table"

if something costs 12 dollars.

Satisfied with its lack of markings as much as
I was with its price tag, this delicately petite beauty is as easily at home displayed among its socialite sisters in a collectibles cabinet as it would be proffering 1% milk for weekend morning coffee at our simple IKEA table in the kitchen.

More on my fascination with all things tea and British another time.

Next time, additions to a relatively new old collection that I'm ready to publicly acknowledge.

NYC Markets revisited, episode 4. In which Lara Spencer is a temptress.

Early on in this blog I mentioned one of our not-so-guilty pleasures, HGTV's Flea Market Flip, as inspiring some of our fleamarket adventures.  It is easy to fall into a lazy but inspiring weekend marathon with host Lara Spencer now on GAC (which we don't view for its intended but rarely broadcast Great American Country music videos).  Mari and I have enjoyed the fleamarketing competition show since it first appeared on HGTV in 2012 largely because we simply love fleamarketing, traveling, and unearthing hidden treasures. Another reason we keep coming back to the series is because of Lara's enthusiasm and obvious passion for fleamarketing and finding hidden beauty in objects formerly known as beloved.

Lara's enthusiasm for up-cycling shabby items into chic home decor almost got the best of me at a recent ranch auction when I began to envision a vintage kitchen stove as a cocktail bar, but, thankfully, my senses took hold after the bidding skyrocketed past my (promised to Mari) $20 limit.  A crazy wave of creativity and inspiration came over me in the moments before that opening bid and I blame Lara Spencer and the bizarrely overwhelming popularity of cocktail bar transformations on Flea Market Flip.

Besides, I know myself.  That formerly functional now dysfunctional auction bargain would have sat in our garage for months (Mari says years) before it wound up on the driveway at one of our collectibles clearance (before-we-call-Hoarders-Anonymous) garage sales.

Darn you and your charms,
Lara Spencer!

At top, I am at the flea formerly known as the Green Flea, now inexplicably and clumsily renamed Grand Bazaar NYC, a favorite setting on Flip.  The day following our unfortunately abbreviated flea Saturday was a beautiful, sunny on-the-verge-of-spring Sunday. Still winter coat cool, the day looked promising as we began our walk up the West Side to our favorite fleamarket.

You may not remember the warm mini quiches I previously relished (NYC Markets, episode 5), but I sure did and was looking forward to their role in a light brunch on a park bench in front of the Museum of Natural History.  Sadly, the Quiche Lady was nowhere in sight. The week's wintry weather (hopefully, that is the only reason) seemed to have kept many of our favorite regulars away this particular Sunday, but there were still plenty of colorfully friendly vendors and overflowingly tempting booths awaiting our empty market bag.

We found the hallway and cafeteria of PS-452 full of activity and Mari and I spent the next two hours browsing and chatting up vendors and letting them know how far away their just-released collectibles would be traveling.

Mari and I are anxious to do a little sharing next time; it's been too long.

In the meantime, check out the updated Grand Bazaar NYC site.

grandbazaarnyc.org