Tuesday, December 24, 2002
Monday 22nd July: I had arranged for the hotel to order me a taxi at 06:00, so I got up at 05:00 to give me time for a shower and the all-important swearing and jumping up and down on the rucksack to get it to close. I was actually flying from Newark so I had left plenty of time to get there, but traffic was light so I was there by 06:30. When I checked in the airline representative asked me if I wanted to go on the 07:00 flight rather than wait for the 08:00 as I was there so early. It meant spending an extra hour in the airport at Chicago, but since I had nothing else to do I thought I might as well get going. I was gratified to learn that, once again, I had been selected (randomly) for a baggage check. I am beginning to wonder how random this selection is.
Sunday 21st July, part II: When I got back to the hotel in the evening there was a message from Kit saying she was going to be out for the evening but suggesting we meet up for breakfast on Monday morning. She had obviously forgotten that I was due to fly to Houston and was leaving for the airport at 06:00. She eventually called me when she got in at about 23:00 and asked me about breakfast, and when I told her I was leaving she said “But you only just got here!”. We agreed that I should walk down to her apartment so I could return the books on New York she had leant me and we could go for a drink. After trying an Irish pub but deciding it was too noisy we went to a French bistro style place, where I was able to get a cheeseburger (very French) and we both had a drink. We said our goodbyes and then I returned to the hotel to complete my packing.
So what did I think of New York? Well, to be completely honest I was a little disappointed. Everything I had seen and read about the place had led me to believe that it was somehow the ultimate city. Now I don’t pretend to have seen the whole thing – I didn’t go anywhere near Queens, the Bronx or Long Island – but I didn’t really see anything that you couldn’t see in any other major city. My main disappointment had to be the line “New York – the city that never sleeps”. I was rather surprised to learn that most bars and clubs shut at 04:00, not that different from any other city. When I mentioned this to Kit she said, “Ah, but you have to know where to go after then”. How is this different from any other city? There are plenty of places in London where you can go to party all night, but most people who visit London don’t know where they are. You can drink all night in Regensburg if you are prepared to go to the Max Bar and Würstl Tony’s.
Having said this, New York is an amazing place. It’s the largest city I’ve ever been in, and it does have an amazing variety of people living there. It’s got some incredible architecture and Central Park is a wonderful place. Most of the people I met were very friendly and helpful (although someone did say this is only since September 11th and it would wear off soon – and they call me a cynic). I would certainly like to visit it again, but I’m not sure if I would ever want to live there. I am reminded of a line from the film “Keeping The Faith” – Edward Norton says to Jenna Elfman, “People who live in other cities are somehow kidding themselves”. Why?
So what did I think of New York? Well, to be completely honest I was a little disappointed. Everything I had seen and read about the place had led me to believe that it was somehow the ultimate city. Now I don’t pretend to have seen the whole thing – I didn’t go anywhere near Queens, the Bronx or Long Island – but I didn’t really see anything that you couldn’t see in any other major city. My main disappointment had to be the line “New York – the city that never sleeps”. I was rather surprised to learn that most bars and clubs shut at 04:00, not that different from any other city. When I mentioned this to Kit she said, “Ah, but you have to know where to go after then”. How is this different from any other city? There are plenty of places in London where you can go to party all night, but most people who visit London don’t know where they are. You can drink all night in Regensburg if you are prepared to go to the Max Bar and Würstl Tony’s.
Having said this, New York is an amazing place. It’s the largest city I’ve ever been in, and it does have an amazing variety of people living there. It’s got some incredible architecture and Central Park is a wonderful place. Most of the people I met were very friendly and helpful (although someone did say this is only since September 11th and it would wear off soon – and they call me a cynic). I would certainly like to visit it again, but I’m not sure if I would ever want to live there. I am reminded of a line from the film “Keeping The Faith” – Edward Norton says to Jenna Elfman, “People who live in other cities are somehow kidding themselves”. Why?
Sunday 21st July: I had read that the Shakespeare In The Park performance this year was going to be “Twelfth Night”. This has always been one of my favourite Shakespeare comedies, especially since I studied it for my GCSE English and then performed in it. For those of you who don’t know – my claim to fame is that I played Sebastian and my identical twin Viola was played by Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. Yes, none of us could understand it either. I also read that Sir Toby Belch was to be played by Oliver Platt who is an actor I would love to see live on stage.
Unfortunately I underestimated the popularity of this event. The tickets are distributed free at 13:00 so I got there by 11:00 only to find the queue stretched for several miles (well, that’s what it seemed). I asked at the ticket office and they said it was rare to get a ticket if you got there after 10:00-ish, although it did vary. You have been warned.
I spent the rest of the day wandering around Central Park. I had been here before, but not gone to the north end of the park which is wilder and therefore less visited. It was a beautiful day, although the heat and humidity meant I had to stop at regular intervals to buy cold drinks. I spent an hour watching a baseball match, which is a game I know almost nothing about. It’s actually quite fun to watch when you’re close enough to hear what the players are saying – I was sat directly behind where the players sit when they’re not batting (don’t know what it’s called).
If you get the chance to visit New York, try and spend a day in Central Park – it really is worth it. It’s not that big compared to, say, the New Forest, but there is so much hidden away you can spend ages just wandering around. I was startled to see how many men felt it necessary to wander around in the bushes, especially in the Ramble, until I realised they are all gay and looking for a bit of stuff. You have been warned (again, and in a slightly different context from last time).
Unfortunately I underestimated the popularity of this event. The tickets are distributed free at 13:00 so I got there by 11:00 only to find the queue stretched for several miles (well, that’s what it seemed). I asked at the ticket office and they said it was rare to get a ticket if you got there after 10:00-ish, although it did vary. You have been warned.
I spent the rest of the day wandering around Central Park. I had been here before, but not gone to the north end of the park which is wilder and therefore less visited. It was a beautiful day, although the heat and humidity meant I had to stop at regular intervals to buy cold drinks. I spent an hour watching a baseball match, which is a game I know almost nothing about. It’s actually quite fun to watch when you’re close enough to hear what the players are saying – I was sat directly behind where the players sit when they’re not batting (don’t know what it’s called).
If you get the chance to visit New York, try and spend a day in Central Park – it really is worth it. It’s not that big compared to, say, the New Forest, but there is so much hidden away you can spend ages just wandering around. I was startled to see how many men felt it necessary to wander around in the bushes, especially in the Ramble, until I realised they are all gay and looking for a bit of stuff. You have been warned (again, and in a slightly different context from last time).
Saturday 20th July: I had bought a ticket to the 14:00 showing of “Into The Woods” at the Broadhurst Theatre (235 West 44th Street), so I got there in good time. There was a large queue down the street and it was very hot, so it was a relief to get inside. My seat was fairly near the stage on the right hand side which meant I got a view of almost the entire stage, although as usual it had almost no leg room.
Some of you will know that “Into The Woods” was the first play I did with RUPs in Regensburg, although we did it as a play rather than a musical (which I’m sure came as a relief to the audience). I had never seen the original, so I was interested to see how it was as a musical rather than as a play.
Hearing the libretto sung rather than spoken does make the whole thing sound quite different, although the characters are basically the same. The two exceptions were the Princes, which was the part I played in Regensburg (not both of them). In this version they are played much more as upper-class twits, although I think this perception is partly because their songs make them seem that way more than just the spoken parts.
It was interesting to see how they handled the special effects. Obviously they had a much larger budget and a permanent set, but most of the effects they used weren’t that different from the ones we used. The only major difference was when their witch was transformed they had her rise to the roof while spinning, whereas ours disappeared behind a tree. In some ways I thought they cheated, like when Cinderella talks to the birds they had the narrator holding a mobile on a stick with some small birds attached.
The only member of the cast I actually recognised was Vanessa Williams, who played the witch. She and most of the rest were excellent, but I thought Jack and his mother were rather weak.
I got speaking to the couple next to me during the interval – they were two retired Americans from an area a few hours away from New York somewhere in the country (sorry, I forget where). Apparently they come to New York for two weeks every year and see as many shows as they can – one a day and two on Saturdays. They thought the show was okay, but not as good as some of the others they’d seen.
After the show I walked down to 42nd Street and had a Mexican meal in a large tex-mex restaurant. It was an enormous portion, but oddly tasteless for Mexican food. Still, I would be in Houston next week and the Mexican I had there last time was superb.
I then went across the road to the cinema to see “Eight-legged freaks”, which had just been released. Great fun, but don’t see it if you have a problem with spiders.
After all this excitement I went back to the hotel for an early night.
Some of you will know that “Into The Woods” was the first play I did with RUPs in Regensburg, although we did it as a play rather than a musical (which I’m sure came as a relief to the audience). I had never seen the original, so I was interested to see how it was as a musical rather than as a play.
Hearing the libretto sung rather than spoken does make the whole thing sound quite different, although the characters are basically the same. The two exceptions were the Princes, which was the part I played in Regensburg (not both of them). In this version they are played much more as upper-class twits, although I think this perception is partly because their songs make them seem that way more than just the spoken parts.
It was interesting to see how they handled the special effects. Obviously they had a much larger budget and a permanent set, but most of the effects they used weren’t that different from the ones we used. The only major difference was when their witch was transformed they had her rise to the roof while spinning, whereas ours disappeared behind a tree. In some ways I thought they cheated, like when Cinderella talks to the birds they had the narrator holding a mobile on a stick with some small birds attached.
The only member of the cast I actually recognised was Vanessa Williams, who played the witch. She and most of the rest were excellent, but I thought Jack and his mother were rather weak.
I got speaking to the couple next to me during the interval – they were two retired Americans from an area a few hours away from New York somewhere in the country (sorry, I forget where). Apparently they come to New York for two weeks every year and see as many shows as they can – one a day and two on Saturdays. They thought the show was okay, but not as good as some of the others they’d seen.
After the show I walked down to 42nd Street and had a Mexican meal in a large tex-mex restaurant. It was an enormous portion, but oddly tasteless for Mexican food. Still, I would be in Houston next week and the Mexican I had there last time was superb.
I then went across the road to the cinema to see “Eight-legged freaks”, which had just been released. Great fun, but don’t see it if you have a problem with spiders.
After all this excitement I went back to the hotel for an early night.
Friday 19th July, part III: By the time I finished the second pot (no charge) the rain had reduced from a wall of water to a shower, so I decided to take my chances. I walked north along Mott Street, retracing my steps. North of Canal Street there is a dramatic change as you move into Little Italy. This is not nearly as authentic as Chinatown, in fact the guidebook warns you that the best Italian food is to be found elsewhere in the city and this is strictly tourist fare. I carried on up Mott Street and into NoLita. This is an extremely hip area, full of those very small clothing and shoe shops with insanely high prices that women seem to love. I got several disdainful looks from the extremely well groomed staff that were standing under the awnings smoking French cigarettes as they waited for their customers to brave the rain. Since I was at this point soaked to the skin I stopped at a café. It was obviously designed to be as European as possible, with even the toilets labelled in French. I decided to enter into the spirit of the place and ordered an espresso and a glass of St. Emilion, whereupon the atmosphere was shattered by the waitress. When I ordered the wine she appeared confused, so I pointed it out to her on the menu. “Oh, you mean Saint Emily-on.” I took this as a compliment to my French pronunciation.
That evening I got a taxi to Union Square. There was a bar just down the street I thought might be worth trying – the Belmont Lounge (East 15th Street between Park Avenue South and Irving Place). After a few drinks and some abortive attempts at conversation with the locals I decided I wasn’t really enjoying myself. I wandered around for a while, and completely by accident found myself outside the piano bar I had such a memorable evening in before. I wandered in to see if by chance Karl was there, but it seemed rather quiet compared to the last time (although there was still plenty of singing). I finally got a taxi back to the hotel, but realised I hadn’t eaten since that afternoon, so I went round the corner to a café on Ninth Avenue. It seemed very odd to be eating at nearly 05:00. If it had been a weekday I could have gone to see the Fulton fish market, but I never got the chance.
That evening I got a taxi to Union Square. There was a bar just down the street I thought might be worth trying – the Belmont Lounge (East 15th Street between Park Avenue South and Irving Place). After a few drinks and some abortive attempts at conversation with the locals I decided I wasn’t really enjoying myself. I wandered around for a while, and completely by accident found myself outside the piano bar I had such a memorable evening in before. I wandered in to see if by chance Karl was there, but it seemed rather quiet compared to the last time (although there was still plenty of singing). I finally got a taxi back to the hotel, but realised I hadn’t eaten since that afternoon, so I went round the corner to a café on Ninth Avenue. It seemed very odd to be eating at nearly 05:00. If it had been a weekday I could have gone to see the Fulton fish market, but I never got the chance.
Friday 19th July, part II: Once we had returned to dry land I walked up to Chinatown. This is an extraordinary area, quite unlike the similarly named areas in most large cities. As you walk east down Canal Street is almost seems like you have been transported to China itself – there are no signs in English anywhere (even the ubiquitous “Walk” signs on the traffic lights are replaced with figures – the only place in New York I saw this). There were people everywhere – all over the pavement and spilling onto the street, often blocking the traffic. It was also incredibly dirty, with piles of rubbish all over the place.
I reached the junction of Mott Street and turned south. This is the main area for Chinese restaurants in New York, so after wandering around for a while (and buying a few cheap T-shirts) I picked a clean-looking restaurant down an anonymous side street and wandered in. It was obviously a family run establishment as they were all sitting at the far end having a conversation in several different languages – all the children spoke English (with an American accent) and all the adults Chinese (don’t ask me what type). While I was reading the menu the waiter brought me a pot of green tea and a cup, which was absolutely delicious. I ordered spring rolls and a spicy noodle and pork stew which were both very good, although when the stew arrived it was the kind of portion that would have been shared between two people anywhere in Europe. I was amazed to find all this came to about 7 dollars, so I left a generous tip and walked towards the door. Unfortunately while I had been enjoying my meal the heavens had opened, and outside the door was a veritable wall of water. Seeing my hesitation the waiter offered me a table near the door and brought me another pot of tea to drink while I waited for the rain to stop.
I reached the junction of Mott Street and turned south. This is the main area for Chinese restaurants in New York, so after wandering around for a while (and buying a few cheap T-shirts) I picked a clean-looking restaurant down an anonymous side street and wandered in. It was obviously a family run establishment as they were all sitting at the far end having a conversation in several different languages – all the children spoke English (with an American accent) and all the adults Chinese (don’t ask me what type). While I was reading the menu the waiter brought me a pot of green tea and a cup, which was absolutely delicious. I ordered spring rolls and a spicy noodle and pork stew which were both very good, although when the stew arrived it was the kind of portion that would have been shared between two people anywhere in Europe. I was amazed to find all this came to about 7 dollars, so I left a generous tip and walked towards the door. Unfortunately while I had been enjoying my meal the heavens had opened, and outside the door was a veritable wall of water. Seeing my hesitation the waiter offered me a table near the door and brought me another pot of tea to drink while I waited for the rain to stop.
Friday 19th July: I got the metro to Fulton Street and walked down to the South Street Seaport. Pier 17 has been turned into a shopping arcade, but it is also one of the places where boats leave for a tour of the harbour. I bought a ticket (lower harbour cruise, $11) then saw that there was a temporary branch of TKTS in the arcade. The main one in Times Square always has a massive queue but this one was relatively quiet, so I went to see what they had on offer. I already knew there was a revival of “Into the woods” playing at the Broadhurst Theatre, so when I saw they had tickets available for the Saturday matinee I decided to get one ($48.75), leaving me just enough time to catch the boat.
The tour guide was a rather grizzled looking man who had obviously been doing this for years, as his patter was very smooth. Some of the history had been ‘toned down’ a little for the tourists – I noticed two mistakes in the history, but they were not so much errors as removal of un-American events. It was still a good trip, though. As we pulled out from the harbour there was a great view of Brooklyn Bridge behind us, followed by Wall Street to starboard. The guide showed us a painting of Manhattan from the days when it was lined with ships pulling in to port just as we passed a helipad on one of the old docks. The boat continued round the end of Manhattan, towards the Hudson River, giving us a great view of the hole in the sky line where the World Trade Centre used to be. Apparently on September 11th the tour was cut short when the boat docked here to take on people fleeing from the dust and confusion and transport them across the river. You can see there is a lot of new building going on across the river, as companies race to replace the real estate lost in Manhattan. Apparently a lot of the apartments around Ground Zero have been empty for months. People first moved out because of the appalling dust, which was quite toxic because of all the metal, but now don’t want to move back in. Most of them haven’t been paying their rents but the owners haven’t chased them for it.
After turning in the mouth of the Hudson we went past Ellis Island, where all the immigrants were processed, and Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty stands. This is where the guide made his two mistakes – the status was not built for New York, but originally created for Alexandria in Egypt, and the money for the base was not spontaneously donated by a willing public but took two years to collect because everyone thought it was a complete waste of time. Just goes to show.
The tour guide was a rather grizzled looking man who had obviously been doing this for years, as his patter was very smooth. Some of the history had been ‘toned down’ a little for the tourists – I noticed two mistakes in the history, but they were not so much errors as removal of un-American events. It was still a good trip, though. As we pulled out from the harbour there was a great view of Brooklyn Bridge behind us, followed by Wall Street to starboard. The guide showed us a painting of Manhattan from the days when it was lined with ships pulling in to port just as we passed a helipad on one of the old docks. The boat continued round the end of Manhattan, towards the Hudson River, giving us a great view of the hole in the sky line where the World Trade Centre used to be. Apparently on September 11th the tour was cut short when the boat docked here to take on people fleeing from the dust and confusion and transport them across the river. You can see there is a lot of new building going on across the river, as companies race to replace the real estate lost in Manhattan. Apparently a lot of the apartments around Ground Zero have been empty for months. People first moved out because of the appalling dust, which was quite toxic because of all the metal, but now don’t want to move back in. Most of them haven’t been paying their rents but the owners haven’t chased them for it.
After turning in the mouth of the Hudson we went past Ellis Island, where all the immigrants were processed, and Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty stands. This is where the guide made his two mistakes – the status was not built for New York, but originally created for Alexandria in Egypt, and the money for the base was not spontaneously donated by a willing public but took two years to collect because everyone thought it was a complete waste of time. Just goes to show.
Wednesday 17th July, part II: That evening I thought I’d check out the local music scene. I’d seen a gig in Time Out which sounded interesting – I reproduce the entry here:
Knitting Factory (74 Leonard Street between Broadway and Church, http://www.knittingfactory.com). Oops! The Tour featuring the Locust + Arab on Radar + Lightning Bolt + Orthrelm + Wolf Eyes, 20:30 $12.
New York rock fans have been more open to edgier sounds lately; it's as if each new kick only pushes us to look for something even more freakishly bent (didn't Reefer Madness say it would be like this?). Well, kids, it doesn't get any more ridiculous than this tour - top to bottom, each band does its thing with such hair-curling intensity that we dare you to live through them all. Any one of them could harm: The Locust and its blistering electronic punk, Arab on Radar's spasming noise, Orthrelm's bursts of metal. But our money's on Providence's Lightning Bolt, a remarkably compelling duo of drums and bass. When this duo plays, it pulls attention towards it like a black hole draws light. If you get hurt by music tonight, all we can say is "Oops!".
I include this to show how misleading music journalists can be. When I reached the venue there was only one man on stage, and he spent the next twenty minutes doing an extended guitar solo – basically a guitar wanking session. I’ve seen this before in a band as part of a set, but doing it on stage by yourself seems rather indulgent.
I went to get a drink while the next band were tuning up. After half an hour I began to wonder what the delay was, so I went back in. I realised that the band had actually started playing, it just sounded as though they were still tuning up.
By this point I really couldn’t be bothered to stay for whatever lay in store, so I walked down the street and called Martin from a payphone to wish him a happy 30th birthday and bemoan the state of the music industry in general.
My next stop was back to the Peculier Pub. It wasn’t as crowded as it was last time, but I still didn’t see anyone I recognised from the comic.
Knitting Factory (74 Leonard Street between Broadway and Church, http://www.knittingfactory.com). Oops! The Tour featuring the Locust + Arab on Radar + Lightning Bolt + Orthrelm + Wolf Eyes, 20:30 $12.
New York rock fans have been more open to edgier sounds lately; it's as if each new kick only pushes us to look for something even more freakishly bent (didn't Reefer Madness say it would be like this?). Well, kids, it doesn't get any more ridiculous than this tour - top to bottom, each band does its thing with such hair-curling intensity that we dare you to live through them all. Any one of them could harm: The Locust and its blistering electronic punk, Arab on Radar's spasming noise, Orthrelm's bursts of metal. But our money's on Providence's Lightning Bolt, a remarkably compelling duo of drums and bass. When this duo plays, it pulls attention towards it like a black hole draws light. If you get hurt by music tonight, all we can say is "Oops!".
I include this to show how misleading music journalists can be. When I reached the venue there was only one man on stage, and he spent the next twenty minutes doing an extended guitar solo – basically a guitar wanking session. I’ve seen this before in a band as part of a set, but doing it on stage by yourself seems rather indulgent.
I went to get a drink while the next band were tuning up. After half an hour I began to wonder what the delay was, so I went back in. I realised that the band had actually started playing, it just sounded as though they were still tuning up.
By this point I really couldn’t be bothered to stay for whatever lay in store, so I walked down the street and called Martin from a payphone to wish him a happy 30th birthday and bemoan the state of the music industry in general.
My next stop was back to the Peculier Pub. It wasn’t as crowded as it was last time, but I still didn’t see anyone I recognised from the comic.
Wednesday 17th July: I decided to have brunch at Hooters today, as there is one quite close to the hotel (the only one in Manhattan, I believe). It's one of those places I've heard referred to so many times in American culture without actually knowing what it is. Many years ago I went to one in Amsterdam (it was a business trip and the boss was paying), but I couldn't really see what all the fuss was about so I wanted to see if it was any different in America. It seemed to be exactly the same, although the beer wasn't as good. I had a Philly steak, which was quite good, and then got the subway to Park Place, just round the corner from City Hall Park. I wanted to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to get the view of Manhattan from the other side. Walking across the bridge was a strange experience - it was very hot, and there is an enormous temptation to keep looking back to see what the view is like. Not exactly in the same class as Lot or Orpheus, but I managed to resist the temptation until I was halfway across. It's definitely worth the wait.
Once you reach the other side you encounter a small problem. The footpath across the bridge runs in the middle, between the two lanes of traffic. You have to keep walking quite a way from the bridge before you are allowed to get off the path and into the streets of Brooklyn itself. Not really knowing where I was going, I turned left and walked a few blocks until I found a MacDonalds where I could quench my thirst (I told you it was hot). I had a look at the Rough Guide and decided the best place to go was Brooklyn Heights.
It’s a beautiful neighbourhood just to walk around. I walked through the park and onto Middagh Street, where the oldest house in the area is at number 24 – built in 1824. It makes you realise how recent areas of New York really are in comparison to Europe. From here I walked down the Esplanade, which gives a wonderful view over the East River to Manhattan. The buildings around the area are fantastic as well, many of them with unusual features on the top.
When you reach the end of the Esplanade you can turn onto Montague Street, which is the area’s main shopping thoroughfare. I spent some time wandering around a second-hand bookshop, where I found a copy of “The Marijuana Growers Guide” and some great black and white postcards (which some of you will have received). I stopped for a coffee and a slice of something chocolately and then got the metro back to the hotel. I said to Kit later that if I was to move to New York this was the area I would like to live in. She was absolutely horrified, and said I definitely wasn’t a true New Yorker as they all want to live in Manhattan. Obviously I was devastated by this news.
Once you reach the other side you encounter a small problem. The footpath across the bridge runs in the middle, between the two lanes of traffic. You have to keep walking quite a way from the bridge before you are allowed to get off the path and into the streets of Brooklyn itself. Not really knowing where I was going, I turned left and walked a few blocks until I found a MacDonalds where I could quench my thirst (I told you it was hot). I had a look at the Rough Guide and decided the best place to go was Brooklyn Heights.
It’s a beautiful neighbourhood just to walk around. I walked through the park and onto Middagh Street, where the oldest house in the area is at number 24 – built in 1824. It makes you realise how recent areas of New York really are in comparison to Europe. From here I walked down the Esplanade, which gives a wonderful view over the East River to Manhattan. The buildings around the area are fantastic as well, many of them with unusual features on the top.
When you reach the end of the Esplanade you can turn onto Montague Street, which is the area’s main shopping thoroughfare. I spent some time wandering around a second-hand bookshop, where I found a copy of “The Marijuana Growers Guide” and some great black and white postcards (which some of you will have received). I stopped for a coffee and a slice of something chocolately and then got the metro back to the hotel. I said to Kit later that if I was to move to New York this was the area I would like to live in. She was absolutely horrified, and said I definitely wasn’t a true New Yorker as they all want to live in Manhattan. Obviously I was devastated by this news.
Tuesday 16th July, part III: From here I made my way to Wall Street. It's a strange place - not nearly as big as I was expecting. The buildings on either side are so high it's actually quite dark, as most of the sunlight is cut off, and the narrowness of the street makes it seem like being in a ravine.
Fulton Street is where the fish market is, but unfortunately I never managed to get up early enough to see it (05:00). The wharf is very touristy, complete with it's own shopping centre, but it's where some of the tours round the harbour islands leave from. I had an iced coffee at an Internet cafe there and answered a few emails - you know who you are.
I walked up to City Hall Park, intending to catch the #1 metro back to the hotel. I sat in the park opposite the Woolworths building and started typing up my journal for the day. I was sharing the bench with a young black couple whose young child was charging around in front of them making those odd noises that only ever mean anything to the child. We exchanged smiles at his antics and then I went back to my typing. I was interrupted by a loud voice saying "What's that?". I looked up to see a badly dressed middle-aged man pointing at my handheld computer. "It's a computer" I replied. "What?". "A COMPUTER".
The conversation proceeded with him asking questions about the handheld (Who makes it? How much did it cost? What can it do?) and me shouting the answers loud enough for the entire park to hear. At one point he started walking away and I noticed the couple next to me were both desperately trying not to laugh, but then he changed his mind and came back for another couple of questions and they could contain their mirth no longer. He seemed particularly confused by the price, which I quoted in pounds because that's the currency I purchased it with. I think the concept of "not dollars" was a bit hard for him to grasp.
Having finally satisfied his voracious curiosity I got the metro back to the hotel. I'd already decided that evening that I was going to make an effort to do some exercise, so I went down to a hotel gym called Gravity (119 West 56th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues). As I wasn't a guest or a member I had to pay $25 for a day, although I was only going to be there for an hour or so. It's a very nice gym (they even have free fruit at the front desk) but a lot of the equipment was unfamiliar so I didn't complete my usual workout. Even so, I felt I had made the effort as I walked back to my hotel for a much-needed shower.
Fulton Street is where the fish market is, but unfortunately I never managed to get up early enough to see it (05:00). The wharf is very touristy, complete with it's own shopping centre, but it's where some of the tours round the harbour islands leave from. I had an iced coffee at an Internet cafe there and answered a few emails - you know who you are.
I walked up to City Hall Park, intending to catch the #1 metro back to the hotel. I sat in the park opposite the Woolworths building and started typing up my journal for the day. I was sharing the bench with a young black couple whose young child was charging around in front of them making those odd noises that only ever mean anything to the child. We exchanged smiles at his antics and then I went back to my typing. I was interrupted by a loud voice saying "What's that?". I looked up to see a badly dressed middle-aged man pointing at my handheld computer. "It's a computer" I replied. "What?". "A COMPUTER".
The conversation proceeded with him asking questions about the handheld (Who makes it? How much did it cost? What can it do?) and me shouting the answers loud enough for the entire park to hear. At one point he started walking away and I noticed the couple next to me were both desperately trying not to laugh, but then he changed his mind and came back for another couple of questions and they could contain their mirth no longer. He seemed particularly confused by the price, which I quoted in pounds because that's the currency I purchased it with. I think the concept of "not dollars" was a bit hard for him to grasp.
Having finally satisfied his voracious curiosity I got the metro back to the hotel. I'd already decided that evening that I was going to make an effort to do some exercise, so I went down to a hotel gym called Gravity (119 West 56th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues). As I wasn't a guest or a member I had to pay $25 for a day, although I was only going to be there for an hour or so. It's a very nice gym (they even have free fruit at the front desk) but a lot of the equipment was unfamiliar so I didn't complete my usual workout. Even so, I felt I had made the effort as I walked back to my hotel for a much-needed shower.
Tuesday 16th July, part II: The park was full of sunbathers, probably from the college you pass to get to it. I walked through and turned south when I reached the Hudson river. This was the first time I had seen the river, and as I looked south along it I caught my first glimpse of the statue of liberty. Not the way the immigrants would have seen it, but I still felt it was a noteworthy moment.
Following the park south, you can walk all the way down to Battery Park City along the Hudson River. I then turned up to the beginning of Broadway, which runs all the way through the city. There are some amazing buildings here, including the US Customs House. It has four statues at the front of the building representing the four continents - not quite sure what happened to the other three. Another interesting one is the old Cunard Building at number 25. It is now a post office, but you can go in and look at the murals on the ceiling. Just outside is a statue of a charging bull - nothing to do with the stock market, but a sculpture the artist was trying to get rid of. He stuck it in the middle of Broad Street and the city removed it the next day, but the public outcry forced them to put it back. It's rather difficult to take a photo of it without a bunch of Japanese tourists standing in front of it (or on it).
Walking further up Broadway and you start seeing the memorials to September 11th laid out in various places on the street. There's really not much to see at Ground Zero itself - the whole area is surrounded by a high fence while the clearup continues inside. The fence has been holed in several places so you can look through, but you can only see some building equipment and a couple of workmen. What is impossible to avoid seeing are the hundreds of flowers, posters and cards placed nearby and around the local church.
Following the park south, you can walk all the way down to Battery Park City along the Hudson River. I then turned up to the beginning of Broadway, which runs all the way through the city. There are some amazing buildings here, including the US Customs House. It has four statues at the front of the building representing the four continents - not quite sure what happened to the other three. Another interesting one is the old Cunard Building at number 25. It is now a post office, but you can go in and look at the murals on the ceiling. Just outside is a statue of a charging bull - nothing to do with the stock market, but a sculpture the artist was trying to get rid of. He stuck it in the middle of Broad Street and the city removed it the next day, but the public outcry forced them to put it back. It's rather difficult to take a photo of it without a bunch of Japanese tourists standing in front of it (or on it).
Walking further up Broadway and you start seeing the memorials to September 11th laid out in various places on the street. There's really not much to see at Ground Zero itself - the whole area is surrounded by a high fence while the clearup continues inside. The fence has been holed in several places so you can look through, but you can only see some building equipment and a couple of workmen. What is impossible to avoid seeing are the hundreds of flowers, posters and cards placed nearby and around the local church.
Tuesday 16th July: Having been in New York for a week and a half, I found it was high time I got some laundry done. There was an establishment conveniently located round the corner from the hotel, so I took a few bags in and arranged to collect them tomorrow. My domestic chores completed, I hopped on the subway and made my way to Franklin Street. This is the start of the area called TriBeCa. At this point I was beginning to feel a bit peckish, so I was delighted to find a classic diner just down the street. It was one of the old-style steel tube designs that you always see in films but never seem to actually exist. I had some coffee and a pizza burger (a burger with tomato sauce and mozzarella, as far as I could tell), which was all good.
Just round the corner, my Rough Guide informed me, was the firehouse used in the film Ghostbusters. They'd managed to get the location wrong on the map, but it was fairly obvious (there aren't that many firehouses). It didn't really look the way I remember the one in the film, but then it's been a while since I saw it so maybe I am misremembering.
I walked south through TriBeCa then turned west to the TriBeCa Bridge, which was designed by the Stuyvesant High School Of Science and reaches across to it. Crossing over, before you actually see the river you reach Roosevelt Park, which has a delightful collection of little sculptures. I'm not sure who does them, but I have similar ones in other places in New York so they must be quite well known. There is one of a mouse being stalked by a bird which is being stalked by a cat, in turn being watched by a dog tied to a drinking fountain.
Just round the corner, my Rough Guide informed me, was the firehouse used in the film Ghostbusters. They'd managed to get the location wrong on the map, but it was fairly obvious (there aren't that many firehouses). It didn't really look the way I remember the one in the film, but then it's been a while since I saw it so maybe I am misremembering.
I walked south through TriBeCa then turned west to the TriBeCa Bridge, which was designed by the Stuyvesant High School Of Science and reaches across to it. Crossing over, before you actually see the river you reach Roosevelt Park, which has a delightful collection of little sculptures. I'm not sure who does them, but I have similar ones in other places in New York so they must be quite well known. There is one of a mouse being stalked by a bird which is being stalked by a cat, in turn being watched by a dog tied to a drinking fountain.
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