On September 13th I got a notification that Michael Grandage’s new film, My Policeman, would be having a pre-screening later that month. Without any thought or even a glance at the price, I purchased three tickets to see the film… in Woodstock, New York.
I am not proud to admit that the only reason I purchased the tickets to this film festival was that I wanted bragging rights… and to see Harry Styles on the big screen again. But this impulsive buy of tickets catapulted me into probably one of the best weekend getaways of my life.
I had appointed two of my friends to join the journey with me and the week before our trip, I had so bravely volunteered to drive to Woodstock from my hometown of Staten Island. I made a playlist, a plan to stop at Wawa in New Jersey, and swallowed down the fear I still have of major highways. Woodstock was nearly two and a half hours away from my house. The only time I had driven that far was with my father in the car and the whole time he was clutching onto the grab handles for dear life.
Fortunately, we arrived safely and pulled into the scariest-looking Best Western I have ever seen. It was a ghost town. Two oddly friendly men behind the counters greeted us, both oddly named James. They gave us the keys to our room and directed us to the back parking lot of the hotel. We proceeded to swipe the key card for fifteen minutes before the door decided to open. The room was great itself but opening the curtains we were met with the weirdest view. Rows of arcade games, an indoor gym, windows to other guest rooms, and a swimming pool in the corner. The hotel was a square and every single room’s window pointed towards the shared indoor space. It felt like we were straight out of The Truman Show.
The nearby town of Kingston was straight out of a Hallmark movie. There were expensive boutiques, more record stores than I can count, consignment stores, and small cafes, all squished between random realtor offices. We made our first stop at a small, picturesque record store called Rhino Records. Fleetwood Mac was playing, rows of dusty-smelling vintage records, original Marvel and DC Comics, framed art, and a cassette wall. After prying myself away from the records, I bought a couple of postcards and a 1996 Spiderman comic.
Feeling hungry we steeled on a place called Moonburger for dinner. It’s a locally owned drive-thru burger joint that has quite possibly the best cheese sauce I’ve ever had. They had interesting pumpkin pie and strawberry cheesecake-flavored milkshakes, but I opted for soda. The burgers were made fresh and the staff was extremely friendly.
That night we piled into the Woodstock Playhouse where older community members whispered under their breath about the “crazed Harry Styles fans” that have showed up. The theater was small and filled to the brim with people. The audience members were either genuine cinephiles or young girls dressed in Styles’ merchandise and filming TikToks. We watched the film and I’m sure the older people were annoyed by the squeals whenever Styles appears on-screen because I was. Anyways! The movie was good…don’t worry, I won’t spoil anything.
The next day we had to leave and for our last rendezvous, we chose to eat at Sissy’s Cafe in the town of Kingston with many vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free options. I ordered probably the only meat option on the menu, a BLT with a “Stranana” smoothie. At the time we were eating outside, there was a small town fair happening. Live music by small artists was playing, millennials strung along their beanies and ugg-clad children from activity to activity and the older richer women sipped on their lattes while commenting on handmade doilies. It was beautiful. I will be back soon. My advice to anyone wanting to visit Woodstock: go to Rhino Records and Sissy’s Cafe.