Time travel sucks.
Even a short hop of seven hours leaves you ragged and on edge.
The whole process is unpleasant.
First you are crammed into a metal tube.
You are strapped down and for some reason chilled to the point of hypothermia.
Barely space to move.
Claustrophobia is not an option, you just have to get on with it.
There you remain for seven hours.
Bland food is thrown at you at odd intervals.
You eat because there is nothing else to do.
You try to sleep but cramp, noise and discomfort keep you on the edge of alertness and prevent real sleep.
It is exhausting mentally and physically.
Finally you are disgorged, feeling cramped, rumpled and in desperate need of a shower.
You are disoriented. 5000 miles from where you started and you are five hours in the past. You may have been travelling for seven hours but only two have passed. You woke up at 5am, 13 hours ago, it is still 10 in the morning.
Your brain and body are out of sync. You are out of phase and your body knows it. You may have travelled in time but part of you still needs to catch up.
You are stretched out like a pulled spring and it takes time to recoil.
Passport checks.
The aggressively bored (and heavily armed) customs officer scrutinises you over the top of your own passport. Is it really you?
Humourless metronomes programmed to assume everyone is a potential terrorist. Everyone a threat.
Finally after quizzing you they decide you are not the danger they are looking for.
Finished with you they stamp your passport in a derisory manner. Like they are doing you a favour.
A nod and a grunted ‘have a good stay‘ welcomes you to the USA.
Their undisguised suspicion moves on to the next in the line. A dazed six year old girl clutching a multicoloured unicorn. A clear national threat.
Baggage reclaim
Sharp elbows. Tuts and unbridled passive aggression roil through the tired mob as they wait impatiently for their battered bags. The least fun fairground rides ever turn endlessly and empty in the huge hall under a sick neon glow.
The crowd gathers at the indicated carousel like participants in saddest tombola ever. One where everyone is a winner.
Well almost.
A split bag emerges from the guts of the airport some poor sod’s smalls disgorged onto the conveyor belt for the world to see. They don’t look too clean. Everyone openly releaved that its not their bag.
Bags reclaimed and out to the cab rank.
Medallion
Bundled into a yellow van and out into the endless stream of traffic.
An hour of listening to the driver alternately hurl abuse at other road users and drivel inanities into his cell phone. It sounds like he is having girlfriend trouble. Multiple girlfriends. Hence the trouble.
The ride is a little harrowing as the driver’s attention is only half on the road. He sends and checks texts as he navigates traffic packed streets with equal disregard for the rules of the road and dating etiquette.
The drivers medallion says his name is Dwayne. That’s not the name his baby momma or girlfriend used.
Out of the windows the frenetic city seems to be in a state of chaos. Even more so than usual.
Something has happened.
Something serious.
Police cars, fire engines and ambulances bully their way urgently through the rush hour traffic. Horns blaring, sirens screaming and lights flashing. All heading for midtown.
All going the way we are. We seem to be heading towards the incident.
The cab tucks in behind an ambulance and cuts through the gridlock.
We pass another ambulance at the curb side and paramedics treating a woman for severe scolding to her legs. Red angry looking and blistered, she looks half cooked.
We arrive. JFK to Penn Station. 1 hour. In late morning traffic! Amazing, who knew an explosion in Manhattan could be a good thing?
Hotel Pennsylvania
Built in 1900 it’s a classic New York hotel with many of its original features. Like the bellboy and carpets. I think they built the hotel around the former, now run down, creaky but clean much like the hotel.
Reception is about as busy as the station that shares its name, the front lobby throngs like the streets outside.
Queuing for check in and time to find out what has happened.
A steam pipe has exploded in the Flatiron District. The explosion happened less than an hour ago.
Five hurt, none seriously.
None seriously? How serious can steam burns be? If they are anything like the woman on the street then pretty bad! She was cooked, her legs looking for all the world like the hotdogs the ubiquitous New York street vendors pedal.
The news report says that a five block cordon had been set up around the blast site.
Emergency services are working to shut off the steam. But the real fear is the aerosolised asbestos that now covers the surrounding buildings and streets. For the last hundred years the deadly substance had lain buried beneath the streets malevolently waiting wrapped around the steam pipe. Now it was out. Spewing into the air from the torn road in a great cloud of thick grey steam.
Buildings are being evacuated. Not ours we are just outside the danger zone.
People inside the cordoned off area are having to strip down and be decontaminated before leaving the scene. Anyone who left the scene immediately after the blast is being asked to return to be treated and their clothes disposed of to prevent inhalation of particulates.
Amazingly the TV stations are already running adds asking if the viewer suffers from breathing conditions or Mesothelioma. They could be entitled to compensation. I thought our cabby was the ambulance chaser but he has nothing on these guys.
Checked in. Keys in hand we leave the mayhem of the lobby. The room is massive, the size of a tennis court!
Bags dumped a quick shower and out.
A whole day ahead of us in NEW YORK and the city that never sleeps!
Times Square
With the carnage of the explosion south of us on 6th it seems sensible to head north up Broadway and to see Times Square. It also seems poetic given the Galifrayian nature of the last thirteen hours.
The closer to the square we get the thicker the crowd and more frenetic.
And then there it is Times Square. The neon madness that is this New York landmark does not disappoint.
It is an assault on already overwhelmed senses. The square promises everything from ice cream to lap dancing. A bit early for both I think, or not, I don’t know, it’s mid morning and midnight at the same time. Anything goes.
To add to the tumult the crowd is studded with cartoon characters including Micky Mouse and Iron Man. Batman is arguing with the Statue of Liberty and President Trump is shouting nonsense at us all.
The last one may be real, it’s hard to tell, they all seem to want their photo taken with me and want me to give them money. Sod that.
Then a gap in the crowd, like the eye of a hurricane. Calm. Stood their in the quiescence two women in Stars and Stripes bikinis. Closer inspections reveals the bikinis are actually layers of blue paint and both women are as naked as the day they were born.
I always thought the lyrics said ‘native New Yorker’, guess I misheard.
As quick as the eye appeared it is gone and so are the women. The maelstrom resumes.
We duck down a side street, and the crowds thin, the assault stops like a switch being thrown and sanity returns.
Just off the square is an open church with a sign inviting one and all to come in and seek sanctuary. St Mary’s the Virgin.
Bliss.
We turn south on 8th and walk towards the oasis that is Bryant Park. Sat in this little green gem of a park a restorative coffee rights the world.
Time to take stock. Maps out we plan our assault on the city. First the open top bus and boat. The Statue of Liberty, The Met and a Night at the Museum of Natural History. The Zoo and and an exploration of Central Park. Brooklyn Bridge, The High Line, Tower One, Empire State and Ground Zero all make the list. Oh and shopping, shopping and more shopping.
Time for a quick haircut. Then on the move again and we head down to Penn Station and there we hook up with the Clarks. Because of course you travel 5000 miles and some of your best buddies just happen to be in the Big Apple too.
To Bravo’s and a slice of New York pizza and a beer for five bucks. Nice. We are ready for the adventure.
But first sleep.
4 am Friday
New York really does not sleep and like Bag Puss when New York is awake so is everyone else.
A combination of jet lag and the noise of the city have us all up early. Breakfast in bed.
The news is still reporting the steam pipe explosion and Donald Trump has set everyone off again. They are going nuts about a recording of him discussing paying off another adult film star to keep quiet about an affair. Maybe that’s what I saw in Times Square? It makes sense. Well about as much sense as anything else in this city.
Time to dress and head out the door to meet the Clarks. The gang together we bundle on to the open top bus and head Down Town on the Lower Manhattan Loop.
Soho and Greenwich are full of colour, a rainbow of eclectic characters gentrifying everything.
The business district gleams all glass and chrome. There among the skyscrapers we climb off and head for the boat. A river cruise taking in both rivers and providing unequalled views of the Statue of Liberty.
Yes a real cruise this time.
Lulled by the boat I am soon dosing in the sun. Darn that jet lag.
Refreshed from my nap time to enjoy the sites from the river. A great, calm, way to see the city. The Statue of Liberty is stunning like something out of every film you have ever seen.
Inspired by yesterday’s explosion the disaster movie reference mash up starts.
You would be amazed at how much of New York you have seen destroyed on celluloid. How many murder scenes you would recognise. We were literally walking, well at this point floating, through every disaster movie we knew.
‘Hey this is the Hudson River where the guy from Monsters Inc. landed the plane…’ Blank looks. ‘Sully’.
‘Look there is the Empire State Building can anyone see King Kong?’
The Day After Tomorrow, Planet of the Apes, X-Men, Avengers, Bronx Warriors, Crocodile Dundee, Curious George the list is endless.
Off the boat we stroll up to One World Plaza only to find ourselves standing at Ground Zero and the site of 9/11.
No jokes here. Suddenly it’s not funny anymore.
The memorial is just beautiful. A somber respectful place. So moving.
Around the fountain that marks the site of Tower One are the names of all the victims who died in the first crash and collapse of that awful day. Thousands of them.
Two sides of the second fountain, next to the names of the occupants of Tower Two are engraved the names of all the first responders who were killed when the towers came down. Men and women who ran into the burning buildings. Who climbed hundreds of flights of stairs to rescue others who put their lives on the line. Who paid the ultimate price.
Heroes.
I found Chaplin Mychal Judge’s name. He was Franciscan friar and the fire department Chaplin and among the many to die.
I remember his story so vividly among so many others. That day he was there to provide comfort, solace and prayer and he became a sacrifice.
On September 11, 2001, upon learning that the World Trade Center had been hit by the first of two jetliners, Judge rushed to the site. Judge entered the lobby of the World Trade Center North Tower, where an emergency command post had been organized. There he offered aid and prayers for the rescuers, the injured, and the dead.
When the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 am, debris went flying through the North Tower lobby, killing many inside, including Judge. At the moment he was struck in the head and killed, Judge was praying.
The photo of his body being carried out is just one of the iconic images of that day.
Very moving.
Regardless of your politics, the conspiracy theories and the horrors that led to that day and followed it, it is a place of reflection. Somewhere that touches everyone who visits in a very profound way.
Quieter now we head back to the bus stop and north to Midtown. Bryant Park once again our oasis in the hustle and bustle. Jet lag is catching up with us all so an early night is called. We walk the twelve blocks back to our hotels.
Saturday
Up Town. We hop the bus again and follow Central Park north along its western edge to glimpse Harlem. Round the North of the park and down its eastern side parallel to Madison Avenue. Here it’s all off for Central Park Zoo. The kids love it for all of us the bears and the snow leopards steal the show.
We mooch up through the park to the Boathouse for a spot of lunch.
The Park is amazing with so much happening all the time. New Yorkers really do use their public spaces well.
Our paths diverge here with the Clarks heading south and the Reads heading west to Madison Avenue and the Apple shop to pick up two long awaited birthday presents.
The weather up to this point, sunny and warm, changes to gray and rain threatens so we head back to our hotel. Our route takes in Macy’s and Old Navy.
Sunday – Ache
A slow start this morning. Before we decided to go and explore. Not fancying the crowds on Broadway we head over to 6th were we find a 10 block stretch of the Avenue is closed to traffic this morning for the 6th Avenue Market! So we wend our way slowly up the street poking through stalls that sell everything. It’s really relaxed and friendly and it has a great local market atmosphere right in the heart of Midtown.
The market brings us to our new favourite place, Bryant Park.
Here Victoria and Poppy head off for, you guessed it, more shopping.
So the waving goodbye to the girls James and I set off 30 blocks north and to The Met.
We wind through the streets, through Central Station. As we looked east along one street we see the heliport and Marine One landing. The President is in town!
As we draw near the Park the long threatened rain arrives so Jim and I take shelter in a cafe while the worst of it passes.
Shower over we resume our trek.
The Met is beautiful with gallery after gallery of fine art, historic artefacts, sculptures and great light. The big airy galleries really show everything off so well.
The surrealist collection is particularly good and nestled among the other great works is a Picasso from 1932. One of his ‘broken‘ ladies we saw an exhibition of his work from this key year last week at the Tate Modern!
The Medieval Exhibition provides the setting for a contemporary show. Alongside gargoyles and church reliquary are the most amazing reimagining of religious dress. Priestly robes by Versace, an Armani designed garb for the Pope. High fashion meets high church in the exhibition Heavenly Bodies. I had forgotten it was on. I read about the display a few weeks ago, it has caused real controversy and I thought that it sounded interesting. Here seeing it in the flesh it was breath taking. Such a clever setting for the work. Totally worth the walk to get there.
Jumping on the bus we head back down town awestruck and very foot-sore.
Inspired by what we said about the exhibition Victoria decided to start dressing as the Holy Ghost.
Monday = Cake as Poppy Turns Thirteen
Birthday breakfast at R.
We descend into the heat and madness below Penn Station and the subway. Fun I am sure at the best of times but with a gaggle of kids in rush hour it concentrates the mind. Having said that it’s clean and easy to navigate and everyone we meet is friendly and helpful. So despite the crush and bustle we commit, after all this is the most direct way to the Museum of Natural History.
I can happily say that after six and a half solid hours of walking I have managed to visit every single gallery. The things I have seen could and do fill books and libraries. My feet ache, again, and my brain is full! But again it was totally worth it!
The best bits? Too many to name.
Because it’s Poppy’s birthday Junior’s calls. Home of some of the best cheese cake in all of New York. So to Times Square and the theatre district once more.
Yes the cheesecake is just as good as promised. We tried a selection between us but none equalled their No.1 Original Cheesecake. I guess it’s a classic for a reason.
A happy girl!
Tuesday – Bape
Well the Clarks have left New York so time to meet up with our other friends Julie and Jas.
That’s right two sets of New York friends.
We know them both from Cayman and they are in town staying with family in the Bronx.
Our plan is to meet them down town so we head down to Brooklyn via Soho and the Bape or A Bathing Ape Store. This place is so now it makes my teeth itch.
One very happy boy. Thank you to everyone who gave James birthday money.
Now in his new shirt over the river where we caught up with Julie and Jas.
New York looks magnificent from the bridge. 100 feet below flows the East River.
Then to Tower One and the most incredible views of Manhattan and its surrounding Boroughs.
I never had the chance to go up The Twin Towers. I wasn’t going to miss this.
Next on the itinerary was The High Line so north again to Soho.
The High Line is genius. A disused raised freight line converted into linear park snaking through Manhattan.
It’s like a magic carpet ride above the city streets.
End to end.
A well deserved pint followed.
Wednesday – Gape
It’s our last day in New York. So up the Empire State Building of course.
A bit of final shopping and time to pack ready for an early start on Thursday.
All in all a magnificent week.
Under an Endless Sky 