Guest POst: Life after PhiThaKhon

For the next 5 months, I’m going to be posting a series of guest posts called Vital (cliché) steps to adventurous travels from someone who has a lot to say about spontaneity, facing fears, and traveling with tips on how to embark on an adventure of your own. I hope you enjoy!


the tiny village/town behind Igor is Jelondi, Pamir, Tajikistan

Igor Postrekhin is a (seemingly fearless) world-traveler and professional adventurer. He is also my brother. Having a travel journal including more countries and cities than most will ever even contemplate visiting in their life-time, Igor has a unique perspective on wild experiences, facing fears, cultures & people, and most importantly living life without the constraints of society’s rulebook. A direct quote from his About Me section on his Couchsurfing profile (which has an overwhelming 142 positive reference list) says “Passion is the fuel that keeps me going. Extremes and adventures exhilarate me, obscure the norms.” He is currently living in Xinjiang, China.

Here’s a list of said countries in case you were curious.

Afghanistan, Argentina, Bahamas, Belarus, Bulgaria, Burma, China, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Estonia, Finland, Georgia, Germany, Guatemala, Honduras, Hungary, Israel, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Lao People’s Democratic Republic, Latvia, Lithuania, Mexico, Mongolia, Nicaragua, Poland, Romania, Russia, Slovakia, Tajikistan, Thailand, Turkey, Ukraine, United States, Uruguay, Virgin Islands, U.S.

Vital (cliché) steps to adventurous travels:

  1. Conquer your fears! Ok, difficult, start with practice. Begin with overcoming some smaller seemingly impossible challenges on your list. Those which will involve testing self, looking for self-trials. Ultimately, I think, every adventure involves coming out victorious over something that you thought YOU couldn’t do. To happily spend endless hours and vast resources on the perfect adventure, you have to desire new remarkable experiences, and dare yourself (even if just a bit) to be victorious.

“There is no illusion greater than fear.”
Lao Tzu 

Life after Phi Tha Kon

I was volunteering as a teacher at the Nong Khai base in the Isan province of Thailand. As a group of new friends and colleagues we took a weekend trip to the top of Dan Sai mountains for the famed Phi Tha Kon festival. This was week three of my first solo exploration abroad. For months building up to this trip, I’ve dreamt of these locales, customs, experiences, of Thailand, of exploring jungles; I was more than excited for exoticism and adventure ahead. This was my first life-defining travel adventure.  fest

Phi Tha Kon is a crazy festival dedicated to scaring off evil spirits and summoning up the protective ones. The ritual processions and celebration run practically nonstop for three days and nights: everyone wears myriads of wicked masks and costumes, and carries ligneous phalluses — also in an immeasurable variety of shapes, colors, and sizes. The sojourn ambiance, open air, friendly beer markets, and the tradition of poking each other with wooden penises, especially from behind, culminated in an unforgettable merrymaking. To top off this special outing, it was the weekend of the FIFA World Cup ’06 Final – we watched the match on a fifty-foot projector screen, full of emotions, exploding for the unforgettable Zidane finale. Our international Nong Khai family of young travelers was extremely joyful, bonding together, building lifetime friendships.fest2

On the last day, shortly before departure, I had a typical Isan meal – with very spicy, deep flavors stemming from the core ingredients. (Som Tum papaya salad from this region is still the spiciest dish I’ve ever enjoyed.) Well, it wasn’t digesting properly as we were riding back home. The dilapidated, packed bus rocked hard side-to-side, constantly hitting bumps on the only road from the high up village-town. I was standing among dozens of others in the crammed space between the seats. Bodies swayed with the motion of the bus and I suddenly felt the whirling transfer into inside of my belly. In an instant, the centrifuge in my stomach was turned on and I immediately felt repercussions of that lunch coming. Without delay, I vehemently barked at Nick to ask the driver to stop the bus and let me out.bus trip

Nick, our young native group leader and translator, looked puzzled and did not react. In agony of inevitable release, I yelled “STOP THE BUS!” My foreign friends glared with surprise, the rest of the passengers began chattering in Thai, probably something along the lines “loco Gringo”. I informed my friends with an obvious “I gotta go!” facial expression. This time Nick was urgently conversing with the driver. “How will you get home?” he turned to me, “the driver won’t wait for you. There’s no more buses from here today. Few cars go by this road at all this time of evening.” The bus was slowly pulling over at the straight away between a wavy chain of mountain bends. I pushed my way to the door, not seeing another option. My companions were a bit stunned as I jumped out at a slow roll, not trusting the driver to actually fully stop soon enough. Nick’s response was to shout something at me as he threw a translation booklet and a telephone (I traveled with only pen and paper back in the day). I sprinted into the bushes out of sight of rolling away stares and started taking care of business.

This wouldn’t be the last time that TP isn’t on hand and leaves serve a hygienic purpose. These leaves were large though, unlike any that I’ve ever seen, luckily smooth, and springing right out of the marsh-covered ground. Once I composed myself, I began to evaluate the situation beyond the foliage at squatting level. I was in the mother freaking jungle!! Frightful loss was one of the strong initial emotions. Then I reminded myself about what I came to Thailand for: to experience tropical wilderness. Everything was quiet except for ubiquitous cricketing, snapping, croaking sounds of the forest. “How dare I be fearful?” was another attempt to rid mind of worries. Humidity was peaking after just-passed rain. The evaporating moisture off the omnipresent green surfaces enhanced the lush fragrances of all surrounding flora. It was a few hours before sundown, although gloomy clouds lingered with darkness behind the recent downpour.thai hills1I found a spot with little over-brush to take in the stunning view of the high rolling hills of South East Asia. The sun was lurking about a foot above the mountain at four o’clock bearing, looking directly down the slope. The road a few feet behind me zigzagged and disappeared into the jungle oblivion to the right, towards the sun. The last of the rattling of the bus’s broken exhaust pipe was also fading from the same direction. A few hundred yards lower, this serpentine road reemerged on the other side of that mount, and then was seen wagging in and out of sight far down the valley below.

“What if I cut straight down the mountain through the forest? …And maybe be lucky enough to catch up with the bus on the switchbacks below… while the bus is going the long way around the sun mountain?”, I pondered, “…this could be a reasonable hike… I should hit the road a few hundred yards down… and this’d be the best chance of passage home.” An inexplicable desire to manifest this idea was pleading me to proceed into the brush. “Can I do that?” Doubt and an injection of nervousness magnified the insanity of the thought. Anxiety driven, I was on a verge of running after the sluggish bus, for a split second regarding it as a more rational idea. Confounded, I looked at the road, continuing to leer at the entrails of the forest. Powerful exhilaration kept trickling through my veins, trampling “I can’t”.thai hills2This plan struck my naivety as an ideal adventure, a chance to fulfill a dream of crossing a jungle. I carelessly rushed into the forest; backpack still hanging over the right shoulder. I hadn’t done anything of the sort before — was a bit clueless of the forthcoming. Ten meters from the road, twelve, fifteen, I’m advancing inwards, looking for a pathway all around except under my feet. “I never thought I’d actually do something like this”, I thought, this is one of those gnarly experiences I’ve only envisioned. “I can…” was my last thought. Boom! There it was: I stepped on the false ground. The shrub collapsed under my right foot, slippery floor had no friction, and my butt gravitated hard down into a natural trench, with backpack in tow, into a slide down the slope.

Down I went, at a steep angle, fast, feeling at once powerless against the force of nature; yet all senses heightened to function in unison and survive… The sensation was familiar from wrestling matches in high school: thinking turns off, instincts kick in, muscles tense up, joints unhinge… My right arm was stuck in the upward position to prevent loosing the backpack, yet both hands were karate-chopping an onslaught of branches hurling at my face and torso from all sides. I was zooming down in an inverted catapult, quickly accumulating bruises and scratches. Branch – chop, branch – chop, tree root – kick off ditch’s side as hard as I can and scoot. This was a roller coaster without safety belts. The initial jolt sent me straight downwards, but soon the pathway of the massive cartless bobsledding track – the rut – steered me rightwards. My body shifted into a skid sideways, thumping a formidable hump or two in the process. That slowed the motion. I quickly shuffled my feet against the banks to avoid more upcoming obstacles sticking out of the flanking ground. Still rushing down the mist-lubricated water slide, I started reaching for lianas all around. Missed one, couldn’t grip onto the second one, the third one gave in and dragged with me… that effort was enough to slow down the momentum. Another veer rightwards and the ride was over: I was sitting on the bottom of a ten-foot wide ravine, with the backpack a few yards behind, trying to regain clear-headedness, if not consciousness itself.

“That was WICKED!” I was sitting in a sapless pile of mud on a flat grassy patch. I adjusted my pants, shaking off whatever was crawling inside them. They were completely soiled on the outside. A mere single rip in my t-shirt exposed several major scrapes on my right loin. Dirt masked my shirt’s cool design. Several invisible bugs needed to be swapped to stop biting me in the scalp. I was beat up but invigorated. I looked back over the left shoulder: probably less than a hundred yards traveled, albeit the top of the hill was out of sight. It couldn’t have taken more than two minutes. It sure seemed like a voyage! What just happened?!?! I sat there, feeling devirginized, already knowing that a tremendous life event had just occurred. I had the first dose of the most powerful drug in my life – overcoming an unexpected, extraordinary, unprecedented to self, challenge.

I took several deep breaths, inhaling the pristine air of the jungle forest. Tiny purple flowers scattered all over low grasses and serene chirping of the birds perfectly complimented the internal feeling of success. Peace and euphoria. Humanity was far out of sight and out of mind at that moment. I would probably be groaning from multiple bruises on my hips if it wasn’t for my soul’s complete satisfaction. I fulfilled a dream, and it happened so naturally. I wasn’t thinking of any other dreams at that moment, but instinctively was certain that they would all come to fruition in some similarly bizarre turn of events.

“Now what?,” hints of panic began sifting through as reality of whereabouts sunk back in. Distance ahead became scary. A prospect of again falling down and not being so lucky crossed my mind once or twice. The obvious horror of being stuck in the bug infested woods overnight flashed in my imagination. Nonsense! “I must have about two-three hundred yards to go down… and to the left (since the slide kept bending rightwards)…. Very doable.” I was ready, eager to get back to the paved road, to cross paths with the bus and tell all about the happening to new friends. I fastened the bag onto my back and walked down at eleven o’clock bearing. Already clearheaded, only minutes after the rush, this time a sense of simultaneous confidence and cautiousness dominated my mind. Vigilantly I probed every step, but moved fast, using tree trunks and branches for security and stability. My shoes have been soaked for some while now; sweat was dripping off me faster than I could wipe it. I had to hop down a small scarp at one point, although otherwise it was an easy and smooth hike. Suddenly I heard a vehicle’s humming not too far below in the distance and my newfound contention of hiking in the jungle was trumped by excitement of ending the trek and sharing the experience with comrades. I deeply wished the sound was that of the bus, as I imagined a heroic return.bus

I sauntered onto the road – to be extra suave in case of witnesses. It wasn’t the bus, but an old loud truck approaching from the right. I faced slightly rightward – facing the left-sided traffic – and hesitantly raised my left thumb. I’ve always coveted hitchhiking, the freedom and adventurism that it entails. This was the perfect opportunity for trying it out, better than any I could’ve imagined. Ok, another first for me! It’s always different, however, being out there and actually doing it: courage was now wavering. As the contours of the truck drew closer I realized that it had a tiny cabin, full with three persons, and a chicken coop in the back bed. Within fifty meters, chicken clucking from the back of the obnoxiously painted red-orange striped rig became audible. Perhaps because this scenario was never part of my dream, the idea of having my muddy appearance covered with chicken feathers, whilst riding in that cage, appalled me. I quickly retrieved my hand and simply smiled at the locals as they drove passed.

I didn’t have to wait longer than thirty seconds before another vehicle popped out from around the bend in the distance. This one did not make any noise and was rapidly gliding towards me. I squinted to make out a black European sedan stylishly zooming along cliff side. It was a new model C Class Mercedes Benz. With no hesitation, the finger went back up into the flagging stance. I had zero worries on my mind, my mini-dreams were stacking one on top of another, happiness of these moments had already penetrated the subconscious. Within seconds, the Finish driver and his pretty Thai front-seat passenger were motioning me to enter the car for a ride.

I wouldn’t have let my dirty self into the interior of this sleek mobile, but this family was not a bit bothered by my stained appearance — white skin, even muddy, truly is a ticket to much in the Third world. The couple’s mixed-race teenage son, seated behind the European father, greeted me with a friendly smile, and then drowned back into his iPod. We exchanged few words with the driver’s wife, but silence was clearly the preferred mode of this trip. A chilly stream of AC air cooled me into ultimate comfort of the spacious leather backseat.

Indiscernible tunes of pop rock from the kid’s headphones to the left prompted me to also pull out my player. I started listening to the White Stripe’s new-to-me White Blood Cells album on the way to Phi Tha Khon few days prior, so I put them back on. And then the magic moment, when music solidifies an event, enthralled me. “We’re going to be friends” came on.  It wasn’t about a girl, or a person, it was about trip-taking and adventure-making. It was about seeking shortcuts, getting off on thrills, and breaching new horizons of personal possibilities. The roots of a deep friendship within myself were planted. The kid and me incidentally exchanged looks and a more genuine smile this time — he was bobbing to my waves, clearly contaminated by my joy from this song. I was drifting in Zen, with eyes shut, as I heard “where? Drop off you where?” from my kind chauffeur.

stationthe bus station

I stepped out back into the steam-bath of SE Asia at the conspicuous bus station in the middle of an insignificant town-village. This is where we were supposed to change buses on the way back to Nong Khai, I realized. As I walked through the bus terminal, to my extreme amazement, I first heard the rattling of the old exhaust pipe and then watched the familiar decrepit bus pull into its gate. Musky and blue in the face from the fatiguing journey, the crowd began tumbling out of the bus. I stood there, glowing, welcoming my surprised co-travelers with the grandest grin. I was joyous to be back in their company, they were awed by my wicked reappearance – jubilation reigned the moment. As they began bombarding me with “what”s and “how”s, Nick quickly herded us into the departing coach for our last leg of the trip to Nong Khai. On the way home, during a much more comfortable and relaxing ride, I told all of my misadventures, with fulsome gesturing. I didn’t mention, however, anything about initial fears; this is a tale of the undaunted conquering of Thai jungles, and, secretly, self in the process.

2. ‘Be prepared!’

3. Make it your own!

4. Be open-minded!

5. Have fun even if it doesn’t seem like fun in the moment!

The 1st guest POst in the Vital (cliché) steps to adventurous travels series from someone who has a lot to say about spontaneity, facing fears, and traveling with tips on how to embark on an adventure of your own.

The other POsts in this series can be found by following these links:

TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, ADVENTURE’S HAPPENING (Bring small size nick-knacks)


Life in NYC: A Few Tips

Living in New York City for the past year, I’ve gained some pretty useful information on getting around and getting by stress-free. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – I’m not an expert on NYC. Not yet. However, I do have tips that can help anyone visiting or starting a life in NYC have a smoother transition and really make use of their time.

#1 Add at least 30 minutes to the time estimator on Google Maps.

If you aren’t using google maps to get around and are still hoping to use your brains to figure it out, than you’re probably not looking for helpful tips to begin with. As fun as it may be to discover directions on your own, chances are you don’t have all the time in the world; whether you’re visiting or freshly moved in.

Google maps is great, but it’s time estimator misses the mark every-single-time. If you don’t want to be late or significantly underestimate how much time you have… add 30-60 minutes.

#2 Check ‘The Weekender‘ if you’re using the trains on the weekend or late nights.

Unless you want to spend a good chunk of your precious time figuring out that the train you’ve been waiting for doesn’t actually take you where you need to go… check it out online before leaving. Construction takes place on nights and weekends, and the mta has a website devoted to letting you know about these changes.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve regretted not checking this thing.

#3 Don’t wear heels. 

Unless you’re cabbing it or taking an Uber, I highly recommend against wearing anything but comfy shoes. It’s not rocket science, it’s logic. If you want to ruin your entire day by all means let your feet be pretty. By the time you reach your destination, you’ll be wishing you could take off your shoes, but this isn’t the country hills… You definitely don’t want your feet touching the ground or subway in the city.

#4 Nuts for Nuts carts = Sugary Holyness. 

Don’t think for a minute these nuts are a healthy alternative. They’re not. But they’re still one of my favorite parts of walking the city. Warm to the touch, crunchy to the teeth, and sweet sweet sweet! That’s right, I’m NUTS about them!

Pro tip: If you go to The Met (which, of course you will) save some time for post-museum rest. Grab a bag of delicious warm nuts and sit on the steps for some fun people watching and a much needed rest period (if you did The Met right, you’ll need a break).

#5 Go Pee. 

Seriously, if ever you have the chance to go pee while you’re in NYC. Do it. Chances are, the next time there’s an available rest room your bladder will have ruptured. If you’re leaving the house, go pee. If you’re visiting someone, go pee. If you’re walking around and see a Starbucks, go pee. (You’ll stand in line for a little bit, but trust me… better stand in line when you’re not about to explode) If you’re in a bind, you can also go into any hotel lobby and just pretend to blend in to use their lobby restroom.

This is not a drill. Take this one seriously.

#6 On that note… bring TP.

I’ve stood in my share of Starbucks’ lines to know that at the end of the road, toilet paper is not always plenty. I always carry a bit with me, just in case.

#7 Water.

If you’re going to be walking around a bunch… bring a water bottle with you or be prepared to spend $2 on what could have been free. The tap water here is gold.

#8 Eating out? Choose wisely. 

There is an overwhelming amount of eateries in this city. So much so, that I won’t go somewhere new unless I get a recommendation or read a great review. Please, for the love of all things beautiful and delicious, don’t go to Olive Garden. Or TGIFs or whatever… you’re in the culinary capital of the world, live a little.

You don’t need to leave the neighborhood that you’re in to enjoy some food. Every hood has it’s gold mine of yummy delights… just ask the guy at the corner coffee shop or if you’re afraid to talk to folks, look on yelp or Village Voice (resources at the bottom). Hell, if you post on here, I’d be happy to chime in too!

(Also: Prices vary depending on what neighborhood you’re in and where you go. Spending $30 on a meal (with a drink) is not abnormal, but you can also eat for $5.)

#9 CASH.

Carry cash. Many places have cash-only (including street food, which is yummy & cheap) or minimum payment establishments. ATMs are everywhere.

#10 Go to Brunch. 

If you’re in NYC on a weekend. Go to brunch. It’s a holiday, quite like no other. Every Saturday and Sunday folks from all walks of life come together to drink booze with their breakfast/lunch combinations and forget all that is wrong with their lives. There are a bunch of Boozy Brunches in the city (unlimited drinks usually for 2 hours for $X -usually $15-20).

#11 Stay in one/two neighborhoods.

If you’re short on time in the city, I recommend that you plan your time wisely. You don’t want to spend the majority of your time on one train to get onto another train etc. Plan to go to one neighborhood, and stay in the area (don’t try to do everything in one day, you can’t).

For example: Instead of trying to do: The highline, Time Square, & the Met in one day (waste of time in my opinion). Plan a day to visit Chelsea (The Highline, Chelsea Market, The Standard Beer Garden, Chelsea Galleries, Chelsea Pier, The Frying Pan etc.) and you can walk into the Meat Packing District or The West Village without having to get on a train OR spending all your time whizzing by place to place. A day in Midtown (Time Square, Rockefeller Center, The MoMa, Empire State, etc.) which can lead you into Hell’s Kitchen for dinner and a night out! A Day Uptown (The Met, The Frick, The Plaza, Central Park etc.) and cross over the park into the Upper West Side for the coolest architecture and swanky drinks or a show at Lincoln Center.

Walking around is fun, but at some point it’s nice to actually get to experience parts of the city; not just stare at them as you quickly pass by.

#12 You won’t get to see everything. 

If you’re visiting, chances are you won’t be coming for more than a handful of days. Understand that you won’t get to see everything. Make plans to come back because there’s always something new to do/see. Don’t try to do everything, because you’ll end up not really getting to do much of anything. And you’ll be exhausted.


There are a bunch of free things going on in the city. Always. I’ve come to rely on one resource (although there are many more). You can sign up for one month or recurring (if you’re lucky enough to call this city home). I’ve been able to see numerous shows at Carnegie Hall, small theatres, off-broadway shows, and many other cool things for $5 thanks to this site.

Other Sources: Time Out NY, Thrillist, Village Voice

I’m also uber happy to help, if you want to ask anything… just comment and I’ll be happy to point you in the right direction if I know how. 

Reggie’s Guide to NYC: Coney Island

Ok. So I’ve survived a full year in New York City and my weekly updates have come and gone. I’m starting a couple new series on here (cue suspenseful tunes) that will surely knock your socks off 🙂

To start, I’m going to be posting a weekly ‘Reggie’s Guide to NYC’… not to be mistaken for another guide list. I am not an expert on nyc. I’m also not an expert on where to go in nyc. This guide is a work in progress… as I visit a place/series of places I’ll post about them with a first hand experience take. Sometimes it’ll be my first time there… sometimes not.

When I visit other cities, I prefer activities that revolve around doing something other than browsing the latest tourist attraction. Hopefully my series of posts will give folks (that’s y’all) an idea of what -else- you can do in the city other than trek to Time Square and stare at the pretty lights (although I can see how that can be appealing). I normally take a bunch of advice from locals myself and then act on them, think of the Reggie Guide as a 2nd filter to all the bullshit that could potentially waste your precious time in this beautiful city.

I’m still working out the kinks and structure.

My first Reggie Guide features Coney Island. Not your typical carnival/fair/theme park…. mainly because it’s something of all those three put together on a permanent (sort of) basis; located on the shore of Brooklyn. Did I mention it’s 95th birthday is Memorial Day 2015?

Best people watching experience I’ve had so far. 

Family-friendly, but be weary… it’s not disney. 

The boardwalk is nothing short of a cultural firework display… so many colors and shapes and sizes… and so many sounds. Walking about a 7 minute stretch, we ran into a latin band playing along side giant speakers, a guitar player with soul, karaoke, a hip hop DJ (there was a full blown dance sesh in the middle of the boardwalk) — all intermingled with the sounds of screams echoing from within the imaginary walls of the park.

coney3This is definitely no Disney… walking up to the gates of the park various versions of ‘Get Low’ could be heard booming from somewhere within.

coney1 coney10There’s no shortage of shops and food hubs, but it all feels so authentic. I have a distaste for theme parks mainly because nothing feels real… but at Coney Island, even with the sparkly new rides, there’s an aura of historical authenticity in the air. You can feel the presence of the last 95 years.

I think the quote “… perfection is the antithesis of authenticity” is perfectly suited for Coney Island. 
coney6When visiting Coney Island, you might as well plan to go to the beach. It would be a damn shame not to. The beach here gets packed so carry light (I wouldn’t bring a tent unless it’s off season). All the food, drinks, ice-cream, and alcohol you’ll ever want is just steps behind you. If you feel the extra couple of feet is too much to bear, simply wait 10-15 minutes and surely, some lovely gentleman will walk briskly by with hushed offerings like “beer” and “water”. [IF you walk down to Brighton Beach, every so often your friendly drink seller (a dude who just got back from the nearby store) will also carry offerings of the “Vodka” varieties.

coney11Don’t expect the beach here to be your perfect nature getaway (it’s more like a nature got away). You’ll be surrounded, as I mentioned before, so the attraction here has more to do with the beautiful array of folks and not so much the pristine nature. 
coney7 coney8The way tickets are dealt with here is a complete mess. I kind of feel like they keep their crazy irrational methods the same to maintain the historical integrity (or that’s what I keep telling myself). Each ride costs a different amount of ‘credits’ and you buy ‘credits’ at the ticket booth. I’d suggest looking over the rules before heading out so you know exactly what to expect. The folks working the park try their best to explain, but it’s not their fault the system was made by someone who had a personal vendetta against rational thinking.

coney2 coney9 coney12Cyclone: one of two original rides still active in the park (Luna Park). Built in 1927 & declared a NYC landmark in 1988.

It is pretty gosh darn cool to ride a coaster that old! I’m not going to lie, the rickety structure had me worried for a minute. 

To Bring:

* small bag (or light Backpack)

There are lockers inside the park and a place to either store your bag while you ride. Either way, you don’t want to carry something heavy all daylong.

* water bottle (you don’t want to spend $2.50 on a water bottle that could have cost you nothing)

* Sunscreen (trust me, you don’t want to learn the hard way)

* light towel (for the beach)

* cash (in case you loose the feeling in your legs and you decide to buy a drink from a passerby)


* Nathans Famous Hotdogs (the original) is here… if you want to be all historical and all, make sure you go to the original location (corner of Stillwell ave & Surf ave)

[There’s a special express line for hot dogs, fries, & beer… use it. Otherwise be ready to wait in line for-EVER]

* Eating cotton candy while riding the ferris wheel (Wonder Wheel) is recommended… because duh?

* Check the weather before coming, specifically for Coney Island, and be prepared. This area has a pretty big breeze going (especially right on the beach)

coney14The D, F, N & Q all end at Coney Island… from Manhattan, expect to take about 1 – 1.5 getting here.

 Have you ever been to Coney Island? What did ya think?