R&R
On an Ideal Weekend in Williamsburg
Rest and relaxation, a phrase and frame of mind for summertime. Summertime I once marked by the end of school calendars: June in my childhood, June and May in adulthood. Often, summer was mixed with labor: summer school, camp jobs. Once, I was told before graduate school, “Take this summer to yourself. You work too hard.” And I did, filled the time with reading and writing (no arithmetic outside of watching my bank account).
For now, summer blurs with the rest of the year. Its markers heat and humidity, a change to linen. Gone the jackets of spring. I bury my head into work work work (work work): open the computer, log into Slack and email and systems where article drafts and ideation and strategy documents sit. I mark the days beginnings and ends: work out in the morning before I log into the day. Pull out a book on my commute home (and the days I don’t commute, I go to the couch and ideally open said book, but most likely catch up on my TV shows).
So what of weekends, then? An opportunity to pack in my needs: grocery shopping. Laundry. A longer workout on Sundays. Prepare myself for the days ahead.
One of those days, I entered a sweepstake. Don’t know if I scrolled and clicked an ad, or found it in a newsletter, but I received a text reminding me of the drawing for a NY stay: a hotel, facials at a spa, passes to a sauna, dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant. I got another reminder. Another. And while I didn’t win, I got second place: two passes to the sauna.
So I planned a Saturday: a free flow session at Othership, with lunch at Gran Torino.
We went during one of the torrential downpours (about two weeks ago). We got caught up in it, the rain first falling lightly then cruelly down, pummeling. We trekked. Luckily, we planned on getting wet, so did we mind? Yes and no. We made it, the rain dying down as we waited to enter.
No phones allowed, so walk the memory with me: We checked in, separated into changing rooms, full of warm light and plenty of lockers. Plenty of showers. When ready, go down a hallway to be greeted by dim warm light, sparks of red, a circular area with rows of cushioned seats. Like an arena for waiting. The sauna doors to our right, we entered when summoned in. The higher you go, the hotter you become. Rows of beautiful wooden rows, where we lay our towels down to get comfortable. A guide quickly walks us through: this is self-guided, go at your pace. The guides will walk through with snowballs of essential oils that they’ll throw on a bed of coals at the front of the room. A guide throws a towel around like a pizzaiolo, wafting the scent through the room.
We leave when we’re ready, sweat-slicked. We go toward the common showers, rinse before we enter the cold plunge pools. There are two pools, ranging from cold to colder. We try the colder first, and chicken out. A guide asks if we’d like a guide, and we do. I lock into her voice, settle into the cold, focus on my breath. I last the entire time. We get out, and the guide asks if we’d like a treat. A sound bath, a sense of calm within the ringing.
We repeat the cycle again: sweat, rinse, brave the cold. We showered again before leaving, getting a first-time gift of a bit of incense to remind us of our time.
The rain was done for the rest of the day. Refreshed, we walked, visited local shops along the way (mainly Heatonist, our favorite hot sauce shop and famed Hot Ones partner). Then we arrived to Gran Torino, our favorite Williamsburg restaurant with pizza to sandwiches to tacos.
I decided to enjoy the break in the humidity, the stillness after the downpour, the relaxation from the sauna, with a frozen Pina colada: white rum, pineapple juice, lime, and cream of coconut blended together, served in a wine glass with a coconut rim. Creamy, yes, and bright. My beloved got the Old Fashionist: bourbon with a bottle of Crodino to top it off (a non-alcoholic bitter), with orange and a cherry.
We leaned into ordering things we haven’t had in a while, food we typically don’t make for ourselves. I got crispy fish tacos (chipotle mayo, tempura beer battered fried basa fish, pickled red onions, cilantro, cabbage). There’s something about summer, a cold beverage, light and crispy fish, and sauces. I’m not a mayo person—but when you add a flavor to mayo, I’m in (and does that not make it an aioli?! IT DOES). So yes, I was delighted. And better yet, my beloved shared the fries he got with his eggs Benedict (traditional, with an english muffin, canadian bacon, and hollandaise, with fries as the “crispy potato” listed on the menu). Benedicts hold a special place with us: it was what he ordered on our first date (almost seven years ago). Look at the pepper on these! The rich color of the hollandaise!
If we were hungrier, we would have ordered a pizza. And now we have something to look forward to next time we’re in the area. (Also, they have a kiiiiiiiiller tuna sandwich—and I’m not much of a tuna salad/tuna sandwich kind of girl!)
And Now, We Further the Plot: Your Literary Rec
Rest and relaxation, right? I forgot that I entered a giveaway for Emma Straub’s American Fantasy, a book about a woman who goes on a boy band cruise. I’ve been excited about it since I first heard about the book (Emma owns my favorite bookstore, Books Are Magic, where I got to celebrate my debut collection almost ten years ago).
Of course we think of cruises as little escapes from the daily doldrums. I’m a child of cruises, my mother whisking us away for a time to enjoy the ship, the food, the entertainment, the cozy pods. Well, for our protagonist, Annie, who has to go on the cruise without her sister and receives a work email that leaves her a little frazzled, she’s already in an odd mental state. But as we can trust the seas and atmosphere to do (especially with a ‘90s boy band), there is possibility in the air (and yes, slushy drinks and entertainment).