For a city known for its iconic skyline, New York has some damn great shoreline that’s not only worth exploring, it’s necessary. The lack of greenspace in this town means that the Summers are hot. Really hot. And there’s no relief at night, when the pavement emits its heat and the city dwellers expel their anger and whatever the hell is brewing underground spews up through the manholes.

But how do you avoid the crowds, the tourist traps, the bullshit, the noise and just spend a day relaxing on the beach?

Let me show you how.

The Rockaways are my favorite piece of shoreline for a few reasons. It’s easy to get there, the beaches are clean, clothing is optional, and I don’t have the money or tolerance to go to the Hamptons. Are you in the same boat? Then hop on the NYC Ferry and let’s get out of town.

Biking is always an option thanks to the beautiful NYC Greenway that will take you straight across the Jamaica Bay to Jacob Riis Park. The 25-mile round trip will take you a little over an hour each way and take you throuhg some neighborhoods in Brooklyn you’ve never seen, but it is quite an active mode of transportation. Do it at least once. Map and info here.

The Alexa Bus Company will pick you up from the Bedford Stop all day on the weekends and costs only $12 round trip, which is a hell of a deal. You can drink on the bus/van/whatever is there when you need it, and it drops you off right at Jacob Riis Park, home of the Brooklyn Beach Bazaar and located right in between Far Rockaway and Fort Tilden. Plan to leave the beach way before you intend to because the vans fill up, fast. Info here.

This is easily the best and most enjoyable option. Hop on anywhere between Greenpoint and Dumbo to take the boat across to the Financial District. From there, hop off and get in line for the Rockaway ship. Ride up top in the open air to get a head start on your tan or duck inside for some AC and Rose, local beers, and some tequila concoction on draft (yep). An hour later you’ll arrive at Beach 116th st. Download the NYC Ferry App here to check scheduling and reserve your tickets ahead of time. Again, arrive at least 30 minutes before your boat home leaves. If it’s a busy beach day the boats fill up fast.

Weekdays. Trust me. I know, I know, this might be tough, but take a “personal day” and get up early and spend the whole day there. If you have to go on the weekends, be at the ferry by 8am. You’ll be dealing with crowds the whole way but Fort Tilden still remains comparitively secluded. You won’t be fighting for a lean-to spot is all I’m saying.

The beaches “open” on Memorial Day and “close” on Labor Day, apparently. Now i”m no geographer but I’m prettu sure they are there year-round. Go whenever the weather permits it, just be aware that there will be no lifeguards on duty, likely no concessions available, and for better or worse, no one peddling Nutcrackers.

A wine thermos for rose

Water

Two sheets

Rubberbands (hairties will do)

Beach Towels

Ham Sandwiches

Snacks

Sunscreen

One large inflatable flamingo

My tried-and-true-and-tried-again-and-again method for the perfect day on the Rockaways.

The night before, get supplies for sandwiches, a few snacks, and a bottle of rose. Go out to your local bar. Get a little drunker than you intended. Come home, assemble said sandwiches, find your beach towel and sunscreen and suit, and fall into bed with an ambitious 6:30am alarm set (and consequently one for 6:33, 6:37 and 6:41am.) Drag yourself out of bed when the alarm sounds. Put on your suit, shorts, sandals. Grab your packs. Leave the house no later than 7. Bike to the ferry at India St. Have a few sips of rose while you wait. Stay awake long enough to get through South Brooklyn and over to Wall Street. Bike 4 blocks to Leo’s for bagels. Make fun of all the stuffy suits in line. Bike back to the ferry.

Board the ferry to Rockaway and get a cozy seat. Pull out your towel and roll it up into a pillow. Fall asleep against your beach buddy.

Like magic, wake up at Rockaway. It’s 9:15 and the day and beach are all yours. Slather on some sunscreen, flatten out the sheet, pass out again.

Wake up with new friends surrounding you. That’s when you’ll know it’s time to pack up. Bike 3 miles down to Fort Tilden.

Admire the Dystopian old fort at Jacob Riis. Stop for a frozen bev and foods here at the Bazaar because where you’re going, you’ll only have what you bring with you.

Bike until the boardwalk runs out. Lock up your bikes and start walking towards what will be your spot for the day, collecting sticks along the way for a lean-to. Stake out your spot and bury the sticks deep enough to be sturdy. Attach the sheet to the sticks with your chosen fasteners. Lay the other sheet beneath your new fort. You’ve worked up a sweat. Run down and jump in the water.

At this point, clothing is completely optional. Most midweek beachgoers are totally nude, and there’s enough space to not feel uncomfortable. If a cop on horseback comes along, don’t panic. He will simply ask you to put on your bathing suit, at which point, pretend to put on your bathing suit and then flick him off as he trots away and you strip down again.

Spend the rest of the day drinking rose, battling the waves atop of flamingo, and basking in the sun feeling miles away from the city.

When the rose runs out, deflate the flamingo, disassemble your lean-to, take one last dip, and hop back on your bikes. Bike 3 miles to Caracas on the boardwalk at Beach 106th. Get an arepa and frozen sangria.

Aim to arrive back at the ferry 30 minutes ahead of schedule. grab a seat up top to catch the last rays of sun as the city slowly drifts back into view. Transfer at Wall Street. Make fun of the stuffy suits. Treat yourself to one last rose on the boat back to Brooklyn.

Go home, rinse, and repeat it all next week.

See you on the beach, Brooklyn.

<3L.

Art in itself is a practice. Whatever craft we have chosen is a lifelong commitment to trying, learning, failing, and trying again. Painters are not questioned when a stroke seems out of place. Musicians are forgiven when they miss a beat. Writers are appreciated even when they overuse run-on sentences, as they string together similar ideas with different words with the excuse of creating a rhythm, when they’re tempted to stretch their poetic license even when it doesn’t make sense.

But magicians? Magicians lose their craft if they make one wrong move. If a trick isn’t performed flawlessly, it’s not magic.

Which is why there is a need for smoke and mirrors. A stage. A cape. Rabbits in and then out of hats. The performance distracts from while also adding to the illusion and helps protect the magician and the audience from seeing even the tiniest hiccup.

So what happens when the smoke fades, when the stage drops, when the cape is gone and the rabbits scatter and it’s simply a magician sitting around a 20-person table with bright lights illuminating him while he performs sleight-of-hand card tricks with absolutely nothing up his rolled-up sleeves?

Now that’s magic.

And it’s happening now at Atlas Obscura’s See/Saw, an immersive experience that takes you into the mind of magician Siegfried Tieber. The See/Saw experience dares you to not believe your eyes as Tieber relies on nothing else but his own hands and your imagination to make the impossible happen in this intimate little space on Franklin St. Tieber himself is an energetic, charming, and innately believable guy; his Ecuadorian accent coupled with his Austrian and Colombian roots makes him uniquely positioned to engage with audiences of any background. But, most importantly, those willing to believe in otherworldly illusions are his best guests. And trust me, you will believe it.

The event runs only through Sunday Sept. 9th and you don’t want to miss it. Tickets, $75 include champagne and the unfathomable experience of being up close and personal with a world-renowned magician. Reserve a spot here and believe in magic again.