America, Fuck Yeah!

I haven't blogged as enthusiastically in the last week of my trip as the first two because having to leave has been looming large and ugly, and I didn't really want to think about it. It really saddens me to be headed home tomorrow. I've fallen in love with New York City in the time I've been here. It's an absolutely amazing city, so full of life and energy. Eight and a half million people living on top of each other on a tiny island will do that.

It's not perfect though, and while much of what I've seen here has been through rose-tinted vacation glasses, it's a seedy, dirty, occasionally smelly place as well. People eke out small, sad and desperate lives here, just as they do everywhere. There's a lot of poverty, and desperation, and hopelessness too. I consider it a privilege to have witnessed both sides of the city.

I was reading Coal: A Human History by Barbara Freese while soaking up the rays in Central Park on a sunny day some time back and a quotation struck me as being particularly true. It was used to describe Manchester during the industrial revolution, but it sounds true for New York: "From this foul drain the greatest stream of human industry flows out to fertilize the entire world... Here humanity attains its most complete development and its most brutish; here civilization works its miracles, and civilized man is turned back almost into a savage."

There is of course, much excitement, optimism and gritty determination as well, which is what makes New York and New Yorkers so great. I have no real basis for comparison against nationalities other than my own, but New Yorkers are hugely friendly people (certainly more so than South Africans, that much is for sure). I spent my last proper night out at PJ Clarkes with Tom, and within seconds of sitting at the bar we were engaged in conversation by one of the locals. New Yorkers, given the right social situation, are exceptionally friendly and upfront. On numerous occasions while sitting in a restaurant or at a bar I've ended up chatting with one of them. It's a friendly city, for the most part.

Part of me wishes I could stay - I am heartsore at having to leave, make no mistake, but a bigger part of me misses home, misses friends, misses family, misses work.

It's been an amazing, fascinating, mind-expanding, entertaining, enlightening and edifying trip.

I looked back today on everything I've crammed into the past three weeks and felt a dizzying sense of it being all too surreal for words.

It all feels like a dream; sadly, a dream that is now reaching its inevitable conclusion.

Winding down

Sunday evening, chilling at home. Might go for a bit of a walk to take the evening air, but I've got a big day planned tomorrow (Met, Circle Line Ferry, shopping on Broadway) so we'll see.

We spent the 4th of July at Prospect Park in Brooklyn, which was really cool. The 4th itself is basically the world's biggest braai. The park was packed with hundreds, if not thousands, of people with their barbecues (it's a big park).

We stopped off at the Whole Food Market (the American version of Woolworths) to grab food before we left. Food here is not cheap. I paid $20 for a smallish tuna steak, and four hamburger patties was around $20 as well. The meat is also not amazing - we braai'ed some aged rump and a t-bone, and while both were nice, from what experience I've had here, we have access to better food at better prices back home. There's a massive drive here to eat local and eat organic, which is good though. I'm sure we'll see it increasingly in South Africa.

Anyway, back to the park. We met up with some of Tom's work mates, including Ivan, another South African (and a Kaaner, so guess who braai'ed). It was nice to chill and braai and drink beer, even if you have to drink beer out of bottles hidden in paper bags, or pour the beer into a plastic cup. America is weird like that - public drinking of any kind is forbidden - you're not allowed to sit outside your apartment with a beer, nor in a public park. As a result, everyone at the park drinking was doing so somewhat surreptitiously. It's a bizarre double-standard - cable TV broadcasts nearly non-stop advertising of alcohol brands, and it's uniquitous, available at every single convenience store.

It really is a land of dichotomies in many many ways.

Carnassie Rockaway

Friday lunchtime. Time for all you can eat sushi.

Wednesday I went to MoMA - it was amazing. Around the last floor I realised that my feet were hurting more than usual. I headed home and made a grim discovery - the skin on the tops of my toes had chaffed off from friction, and were subsequently bleeding. This was fairly miff. I reckon the cause was standing in the rain and getting entirely soaking wet at Explosions, including my feet. The resulting walking with wet, soft feet probably wasn't so great.

I spent Thursday at home taking a break as a result. I went walking around a bit with plasters on my feet, but it was too painful and I called it quits for the day.

This morning we did laundry (three loads for me!) and we're headed out for lunch in a bit. This evening the plan is to do PJ Clarks or maybe just chill - tomorrow is the 4th afterall...

Encore!

It’s almost 2 AM and I can’t sleep, despite being exhausted. Today (technically yesterday, Tuesday, but whatever) was one of the better days so far, and the bar is set pretty high.

Tom went back to work today, so I resumed my touristy adventures. There was some debate as to what exactly I’d do to occupy my time until this evening when I had the Explosions concert. I’d just about settled on the Museum of Modern Art when a cursory check of their website revealed that they’re closed on Tuesdays. Bummer. My next option, the Metropolitan Museum of Art was also vetoed, on account of me wanting roll my visit to the Met in with a visit to the Cloisters, and for that, I’d need a full day.

I checked outside and the sky was serenely clear. A visit to the Empire State Building was on the cards then, considering my first attempt was stymied by the recalcitrant weather. On the way to the subway at Astor Place I grabbed a most delicious Nutella and fruit crepe. There’s a lot to be said about the street vendors in New York – some of the best food I’ve had came from some dude’s cart - with the possible exception of that one chicken gyro. Anything called a ‘gyro’ was always going to be suspect though.

Anyway, I hopped off the train at Times Square and walked the mile or so to the Empire State Building, doing some shopping along the way. The stores around that area are very tourist orientated, but I found some pretty nice stuff anyway. I meandered my way around the area, until I eventually found myself at the entrance to New York’s most loved building – the Empire State herself.

The lines are seemingly endless. You queue in one line to get to the next queue. You stand in lines, only to be let through to the next area, where you stand in yet another line. Eventually, we reached the 80th floor, where as expected, more queues, this time for the elevator to take you up the final six floors. Thankfully, a staircase presented itself as a happy alternative, and I scuttled up the stairs eager to finally check out the view.

The first thing you notice as you enter the foyer of the 86th floor observatory of the Empire State Building is that when you look out the windows, you see clear blue sky. It came as a shock – it’s been a while since I saw an open expanse of sky. It’s something that quickly ingrains itself into your subconscious here – the skyline dominated by buildings. From up here though, before you exit the lobby onto the observation deck, it’s surreal to look out and see nothing but sky.

Once you’re out on the deck, battling the throngs of people for a decent spot, the sheer enormity of the city smacks you in the face. When I looked south for the first time out over the financial district, to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, it damn near took my breath away. Manhattan, New York and the greater Tri-State area is truly amazing. It’s just urban sprawl every way you look.

Looking South. That's the financial district off in the distance, Flatiron building middle at the intersection.

Looking North over Midtown. Central Park in the distance.

I opted to take along an audio tour device, and I’m glad for it. In the absence of a New Yorker to point out what to look at, the audio tour is pretty good option. There were a lot of sights I was looking out for, and that I subsequently found, but there were tons of buildings and districts that I would have missed otherwise. It occurred to me that I could stay here for six months and I still wouldn’t see everything. There’s too much to do and to see.

There were many amazing views from the top, and I would heartily recommend that anyone who comes to New York makes the trip up the Empire State. You have to battle throngs of tourists to do so, but it is every bit worth the endless waiting. One of the highlights was watching a reconstruction crew applying some touchups to the plaster of the building’s exterior just below the observation deck. What an insane job, working 85 stories up in the air!

This dude has enormous balls and a distinct lack of fear of heights.

Having spent about half an hour queuing to get back down (yeah, that sucked) I made my way back home with about an hour to chill before I had to head uptown for the concert.

While the subway is mostly a pretty smooth experience, I’ve developed a hatred for the 6 trains that run along the green line uptown to the park. For some reason, every unpleasant subway experience I’ve had so far has been on the 6. I’ve been on a 6 that smelt like a hyena peed on a hobo, I’ve had one that leaked water all over my arm (miffness), I’ve missed a 6 train and subsequently waited for like 20 minutes for the next one because a Hispanic dude in front of me was topping up his MetroCard with quarters, and I’ve encountered more panhandlers and other annoyances on the 6 than other other train. To make matters worse, the train is almost always insanely full – on the way back from the park on Sunday I felt like a sardine, that’s how cramped it was for the first half of the trip.

I exited the subway to a torrential downpour. The clear skies that afternoon had given way to what seemed to be a minor hurricane. It was pissing down, and like an idiot I was in shorts, t-shirt and no umbrella. It didn’t help that the line at the concert was about half a mile long (no kidding, it was all the way to the 65th street exit, four city blocks). So I sat there in the pouring rain. Fortunately, New Yorkers are a fairly friendly lot and I’d struck up a conversation with the group in front of me, who were similarly ill-equipped and equally soaked by the time we got inside.

In the queue of death.

Once inside, I loaded up on merch (you owe me McLeod) and grabbed a particularly prime spot right near the stage. Unfortunately, the first opening act was a particularly horrible solo performance by some dude that was all but booed off the stage. The second act, the Constantines, was pretty rad however.

By the time Explosions came on the rain had given way to clear skies. It was around 8 PM and the sun was just starting to set, making for a truly magnificent setting to a truly awesome band. They opened with Yasmin the Light which blew my mind. Sadly, around halfway through their set my poor feet couldn’t take it anymore (four hours of standing up) and I had to relinquish my spot and headed for the seats at the back. They rocked a lot of their older stuff, but worked in Your Hand in Mine (amazing) and some more recent stuff, before ending with The Only Moment We Were Alone, which sent shivers down my spine.

EXPLOSIONS!

The walk back home was pretty great too. I detoured along Madison Avenue at some point, marveling at the opulence of the displays in the shopfronts. D&G, DKNY, Cartier, all in attendance in the small stretch of road I walked down.

I got back home around 11 PM, and even then, most of the stores in St Marks were open for business. There were people out and about having dinner, people buying stuff at shops, people on their way wherever on their skateboards and rollerskates. It truly is an amazing city.

New York Fuckin' City

I bought a T-shirt today saying that, as one does.

I leave in a week's time. It's been a crazy ride so far, and I've got a lot left to do. I went to the Empire State building today because it was a beautiful, sunny day, and was simply amazed by the richness of the city's history. I tend to end up walking just about everywhere I want to go - it gives me an opportunity to take in the ambiance of the streets.

I'm headed to an Explosions in the Sky concert in Central Park in a bit - I'll post pics later.

Chillin' like a villain

Yesterday (Saturday) was spent recovering from the hangover from Friday night. Despite my best intentions, I got horribly drunk on Friday night at Toad Hall. Highlights include walking around aimlessly just after midnight trying to find something to eat, and eventually finding a cafe that sold sushi. The California Rolls were particularly good. It's been an easy lesson to learn - appearance means little when it comes to food quality here - the places that serve the tastiest, most authentic food are typically hidden away behind dilapidated shopfronts in tiny side alleys.

Today we headed off to the park, which was nice. We stopped at K Mart along the way to buy a baseball, football and soccer ball. We sat on the Great Lawn, watched the baseball games going on, snacked on chips and generally chilled and had a good time.


Vilo like soccer!


Girls making a human pyramid in the park. As one does.


Having a nap.

Adventures in the heart of NYC

We took Vilo out today in the hopes of imbuing some culture and appreciation for fine art into him. It was overcast as all hell so we headed for the Guggenheim.

We transferred through Grand Central Terminal, so we took the opportunity to grab a few snaps – sadly, most subway stops in New York are hot, humid, smelly affairs, but Grand Central’s main hall makes up for it.


Vilo in Grand Central.

We eventually got to the Guggenheim, which was well worth the price of admission. Being able to look at original works by artists like Picasso, Monet, Pollock, Manet, Kandinsky and so many more was amazing. It’s an incredibly feeling to look at an original Renaissance masterwork, a piece of art so revolutionary and powerful it defined an entire era of human creativity. Unfortunately, due to the high amount of original (and priceless) work on display, there’s no cameras permitted and there’s a security guard every five feet. It was still amazing.


The Guggenheim - not my best shot, as you can't see the Rotunda nicely. Stupid tree.

After a couple of hours there we headed outside, where much to our surprise, the skies had cleared completely. Seeing as we were right opposite Central Park, and that our trip on Wednesday was rained out, we hopped across the street and made our way to the park.

We entered right at the Jacqueline Onassis reservoir (which is like the size of a small lake) and headed south.


Vilo lurks in the shadows at the reservoir, looking to prey on an unsuspecting jogger. The most scenic spots tend to have lots of joggers, and there was a steady stream of them on the paths here.

I think a substantial part of the appeal of living in New York is the park – it’s simply majestic. To live in the busiest, noisiest and most trendy city in the world is great – having 24/7 access to this enormous expanse of unspoilt greenery is stupendous. It’s so soothing, so beautiful, one cannot help but admire the foresight of the city’s founders to partition off this enormous expanse of land at the heart of the city and turn it into this amazing sea of green.



The massive Great Lawn in the center of Central Park.

We walked from the reservoir all the way to the south end of the park, meandering as we did so. We saw the Great Lawn (enormous), the turtle pond (cute), the Delecorte Theatre and the Belvedere castle (very nice), the boathouse (cheesy) and the strawberry fields (pretty). We walked through The Ramble (amazing, but suffocatingly humid) and just generally had a good time.

We ate lunch in one of the alcoves (BLT and iced tea) overlooking Belvedere Lake and generally chilled out, enjoying the sunny weather.


That's a $7 BLT right there, but well worth it.

If it holds, the plan is to go back on Sunday and spend the day on the Great Lawn throwing a football around.


One of the many beautiful walkways. This one reminded me of Irene.

Tonight we’re headed out somewhere – I’m not too sure where, but I’ve come to realise that to go out and get drunk at a bar in New York is way too expensive for my tastes. Dropping R400 on Heinekens to get a bit of a beer buzz (that’s four beers folks) is simply exorbitant.

I promised myself that I wasn’t going to jew it up when I came here, and I certainly haven’t, but my alcohol tolerance and $10 beers don’t get along particularly well. Anyway, there’s so much to see and do here, nursing a hangover isn’t a particularly judicious use of time.

Eight to one

It's Friday, midday. We're headed off to the Museum of Modern Art in a bit, and then to the top of the Rockefeller building. Maybe the Cloisters if we have time. Contemplating heading to the Meat Packing District tonight to hit one of the megaclubs, but there's good rugby on early tomorrow morning that we need to catch. That might have to wait for tomorrow night.

Wednesday we went to see Transformers 2 (load of bollocks) and then ran home in the rain as our attempt to chill in Central Park bombed on account of the weather. Thursday was my one week mark in New York. We celebrated by not going out, anywhere. I went up the street to grab burgers for lunch, and apart from that, we didn't leave the apartment. I lay on the couch and watched HD movies on cable while Tom played video games. We were both wrecked from a week of solid walking. Even today after an entire day of rest, my feet, calves, shins and knees are sore. A day of relaxation was good, just enough time to catch one's breath.

I'm still amazed at how expensive this city is. I try not to, but I find myself converting things into rands and being alarmed at the prices. Eventually, you start to feel relieved when things are only double or triple the price they'd be back home - this is the case for most food, where a burger here costs about R80 (about double what you'd pay back home) or a soda goes for R20 (again, about double).

It really hurts when you buy things that are six, seven or even eight times as much as you'd pay back home. Beer here costs about R70, comfortably seven times what they go for back home (and our local beers are way better). There's very few things that are actually cheaper here than back home, electronics and clothing (if you shop at the right places) being notable.

That said, I do love this city. There's such an amazing energy, and New Yorkers are very, very friendly. I don't find myself having random conversations on the streets back home, but it happens with startling regularity here.

A city of world bests

That’s New York – where everything is the best you’ve ever had. On an island of 8.5 million, the harshest natural selection process for retailers has resulted in a finely sieved selection of the very best. If you’re crap, you don’t last here, no matter what wares you’re peddling.

We spent the morning cleaning up Tom’s place on account of it being filthy, and at around midday, headed out. The skies are finally starting to clear up (no rain today, a first since I got here) and we took advantage of the good weather to do what New Yorkers do best: walk.

We headed east, having walked to the west side of the island yesterday. Along the way, we stopped at the world-famous Katz’s on Houston Street for their legendary pastrami sandwiches. They’re every bit as good as advertised. The pastrami is unlike the stuff we get back home – instead of being thinly sliced and cold, it’s served on a rye sandwich piping hot, thick and juicy. While they’re making your sandwich they give you a bit of pastrami to nibble on, and it melts in your mouth like butter.


Katz's deli on Houston.

The sandwich itself was epic; of such a fiercely high calibre that future generations will recount tales of its tastiness in song and dance. I cannot express with my limited command of the English language just how good it was. There’s a reason why they’ve been around for decades – the amazing service, the enormous portions, the ingredients so fresh they can bring a grown man to tears. Granted, at around R100 for a sandwich it’s not cheap, but definitely worth the asking price. Sadly, we left Vilo to look after the apartment, so he missed out.


Wow wa wee waw!

From there we walked to Chinatown, which is quite frankly, an epic shithole, a massive eyesore on what is an otherwise amazing island. The buildings are dirty and run down, the streets are in terrible shape (they reminded me of Mozambique), and the entire place smells of drunk hobo. Not a lot of fun.

We reached the East Hudson, which offers as amazing a view as its counterpart on the west side of Manhattan. Still feeling pretty fresh, we decided to walk the Brooklyn bridge. After a somewhat scary mistake where we accidentally walked up the highway onramp, we found the pedestrian onramp and made our way across. It’s a fairly decent walk, but well worth it – the views are spectacular.


Manhattan bridge.


Brooklyn bridge.


On Brooklyn bridge, headed away from Manhattan.

We grabbed a train back and stopped off at a middle-eastern joint on our way back for a hubbly and some beers. That was a pleasant change of pace – we sat and watched the busy people of New York go about their business as we puffed away.


Nothing like a hub, and this was a particularly good one.

Just a short block away was a deli (Veniero's Pasticceria & Caffe) Tom was adamant we had to go check out, and we did. It was, quite frankly, amazing. I grabbed two mini cakes and a New York cheesecake with strawberries, which blew my mind.


Hard to choose with cakes that look this good...


...but settled on a NY style cheesecake!

We grabbed some beers from a convenience store on the way home to drink on the fire escape this evening before we head out partying.

Good times.

Vilo, you are a beautiful pig!

Yesterday was Sunday and we took it pretty easy on account of the hangover. Got some sleep, went out for pizza at an authentic Italian restaurant. It was great – the menu has exactly four pizzas, and expressly forbids any alterations of any kind. It’s a bit of a gourmet spot, and was very good. The pizza does not come in slices, is only vaguely circular in shape, and is extremely hot, thin and enormously tasty. It’s very much a classic, old-fashioned Italian pizza in every way, not the greasy fare one gets at just about every other pizza place here. Still, at $22 a pizza, it’s not cheap, and part of me balked at paying nearly R200 for a pizza, but heck, such is life. New York is expensive.

We were supposed to catch a movie later that evening, but both Tom and I fell asleep at the apartment and woke up too late, so we chilled and relaxed. It was nice.

This morning we were refreshed and ready to tackle the city. We walked for what seemed like an eternity today. We started out in St Marks, headed to Astor Plaza and then made a beeline for the west side of the island. Along the way, we did some shopping on Prince Street, one of the main shopping hotspots for fashionistas. We stopped off at Kidrobot, this ubertrendy Japanese-influenced toystore ($3000 and up collectibles lining the storefront windows) where I bought Vilo, the mustachioed rabbit. He joined us our journey and saw many amazing sights with us.

From there, we got onto West Street and headed south along the Hudson. The view of New Jersey from the west bank of Manhattan is amazing. Shortly after Canal Street, the area really started getting very swank – we were heading towards the financial heartland of the island.


View from across the Hudson, looking out at New Jersey.


The leafy walkway that lines the Hudson. That's the statue of Liberty way in the background.

We saw some amazing stuff today – almost too much to list. A few of the highlights include street entertainers in Battery Park, the Korean War monument, walking down Wall Street, the bull in the financial district and some amazing buildings.


Vilo at the Korean War monument.

We also stopped off at Majestic Pizza for a slice, which was fantastic. Vilo approves.


Vilo like pizza!

We hit up Century 21 where we did some shopping, before heading home. We walked everywhere today, and as a result, I’m wrecked. We’re going to sit outside on the fire escape later this evening and drink beer. The sun only goes down here at like 20:30, so we’ve got some time to chill and relax.

PBR and dive bars

Day four. It's 9 AM and I am massively hungover. I channeled the inner fuckpig last night and went large (as one does in America). But let's back it up a bit.

Yesterday began well. Tom and I got up early and headed uptown to a Welsh pub to watch the Rugby. Along the way we grabbed breakfast from Dunkin' Donuts, in my case, an egg and sausage bagel, an iced coffee and a cream donut. All very good. The game itself was epic, as was drinking copious amounts of Guinness at the pub. There were a lot of green jerseys, so we sat with the other Saffers and had a great time.

After a satisfying win, we headed off to Madison Square Park for burgers at the world-renowned Shake Shack. They were epicly good, in a way that I'm quickly discovering only American fast food can be. Rich, tasty and served with cheese-laden fries and a chocolate malted milkshake, I actually felt my heartrate slowing and arteries harden, but I'll be damned if I didn't murder that burger, it was that good. It was raining, but I've learnt that it doesn't seem to have any sort of calming influence on the hustle and bustle of life in New York.




We snappped a few pics of the truly majestic Flatiron building while we were there - it's hard to believe that it was built 100 years ago.



From there, we caught the subway to Times Square, which quite frankly, blew my mind. It's impossible to describe it. I snapped tons of pics and a video. It's just amazing how many people, lights and colours there are.



After marveling at Times Square we walked down Fifth avenue towards the end of Central Park, and from there, went to the legendary Apple store. The new iPhone had just been released the day before, so subsequently, the Apple store was buzzing like a hive, with literally hundreds of people crammed into this bizarre underground mecca of Apple goods. While we were in the area, we stopped by FAO Schwarz, which is possibly the most amazing toy store ever. It must be awesome to be a kid in New York - you may not have a backyard to play in, but the toys you can get are amazing. Enormous stuffed animals, Scalectrix sets that'd blow your mind and electric helicopters and airplanes of every make and model.

We were pretty wrecked after all the walking, so we headed home for a nap. I woke up before Tom and went exploring the East Village while he slept, grabbing a slice of pizza on the way home. After we got dressed we grabbed a train and headed east, off the island, to Brooklyn. We met up with a mate of Tom's, and hung out at his apartment with a whole bunch of people. New Yorkers are amazingly hospitable and friendly. By the time we started doing tequila shots we were fast friends. At around midnight we headed out to hit the clubs (I believe going out this late is fairly standard practice around here). We went from club to bar, trying them all out, having a few drinks at each and moving on. Eventually, we ended up at this karaoke dive bar somewhere in Brooklyn where we drank and sang and danced until I just couldn't do it anymore. We left at around 4 in the morning, stopping off at a deli on the way home (everything is open all the time here) for a bite to eat.

So now, five hours of sleep later, I'm sitting here, nursing a hangover of death and sweating out Pabst Blue Ribbon in the humidity while I wait for Tom to wake up. We're going to do a breakfast burrito this morning and take it from there.

It's a (tourist) trap!

And to think that I thought my feet were sore yesterday – today puts things in perspective. It’s like foot genocide. I’m fairly sure that by the time I get home I’ll have the sculpted calves of a Greek demigod, that’s how much walking I’ve been doing.

Anyway, after writing up my account of the day’s activities last night I was too tired to do anything, so I turned on Tom’s TV and gazed in wonder at the 800 channels. I ended up watching commercials for about an hour, marveling at the American hard sell. I quickly passed out.

I was up super early this morning, and walked with Tom up St Marks street (punk kiddie central, I believe) before we parted ways, him to work, me to head uptown. It’s only day two but I’ve got the subway figured out – I managed to get everywhere I needed to go today without getting lost or missing a connecting train once.

My first stop was the American Museum of Natural History. I decided to get off the subway one stop before the Museum, so I could walk the remaining distance and explore a bit. I’m glad for it – the apartments on West 81st street, like most of the buildings in the area, are truly beautiful, including one that was wreathed by vines that was especially spectacular.



I eventually arrived at the Museum a bit early, so while I waited for them to open I chilled in the Roosevelt Park nearby. It’s strikingly pretty, especially after the rain. There were little squirrels running about everywhere – very cool. The view from the park was amazing - I could have happily sat there for hours with a book, just soaking in the ambience of the city.



The Museum itself was amazing; a truly mind-blowing experience. I checked very major exhibition hall on each of the five floors, a feat that took me no less than four hours. There’s way too much stuff to mention anything specific without droning on forever, but the cosmic collision show in the Hayden Planetarium was positively breathtaking. It’s this massive show inside an enormous sphere, with the movie projected onto the ceiling use state-of-the-art technology. It’s positively amazing.



I bought a few souvenirs and headed out, unsure of what to do next. I figured WTC was as good a bet as any, so I headed downtown. WTC was a bit of a bust to be honest – you can’t see much, although St Paul’s Cathedral, which is just nearby was quite something, even if the years of neglect have taken their toll. The Chapel directly opposite the site of the WTC was also nice – they’ve turned it into a shrine of sorts for the rescue workers of 9/11.



I spied Century 21 in the area, so I went in and did some shopping. The prices were ridiculous, as were the throngs of bargain-hunting shoppers, so I grabbed some gear and some thick socks and got out before I got crushed.

I wandered around a bit and tried to find Majestic Pizza but couldn’t, so headed back uptown to grab some food and rest my weary feet. At Tom’s recommendation, I grabbed a cheeseburger from Paul’s (“Da Best Burger in NY”) and I was glad for it. I was initially worried when I went in and saw a signed poster of the Kardashian sisters raving about the burger they had, but it was every bit as good as advertised. I took it back to Tom’s place, where it was swiftly devoured. It’s easily the best burger I’ve ever had – nothing I’ve ever had before compares.

So now, I’m sitting here, chilling on the couch and going through pictures of today. Tom and I are not going out tonight because we’re going to be going large tomorrow morning watching the rugby. Should be a blast!

I've also got my first few pics up - you can check my Picasa album out.

High water level

First day. New York blows my mind away. But let's backtrack a couple of dozen hours.

OR Tambo, 15:00. I get to the airport 4 hours before my flight is scheduled to leave. It's just as well, because the credit card I used to pay for the flight some time back had since been upgraded, which caused enormous issues with checking in. Two hours later, much of it spent in lines at check-in, the FNB branch at OR Tambo and the help desk, I'm done, sorted, checked in.

The flight itself was great. The plane was only about 50% full, so I had a double seat to myself, giving me plenty opportunity to stretch out, relax, and catch some sleep. We stopped in Dakar to refuel for about an hour, but all in all, a fairly uneventful day of flying. The security is insane though - strip searches, random searches on the plane by security officials, paperwork to be filled in, biometric scans, it seemingly never ends.

Tom came and collected me from JFK this morning. It's a massive airport; it makes OR Tambo look like a small airfield in comparison. The control tower sits like an watchful behemoth over the endless sea of tar and aircraft. It's a truly amazing sight, and was the first indication that here in America, everything is just plain bigger.

The cab drive back to Manhattan was fairly uneventful, although sitting in a massive Crown Vic was kinda cool. We got stuck in rush hour traffic, and the miserably overcast and raining weather robbed me of the privilege of seeing the Manhattan skyline in all its glory. Regardless, I got settled in at Tom's, had a shower and then we hit the subway.

It was on my second ever train that I encountered that most curious of all NY wildlife, the train hobo. They're fascinating creatures, and any accounts of their craziness are probably grossly understated. They're loud, they're mad, and they're completely hilarious. Why everyone ignores them I don't know - the one we were standing opposite was going on with religious fervour about building weapons of mass destruction ("It's no good weaponizing biological agents without a delivery mechanism - you need a rocket. Your average rocket travels at an average of 88,000 kilometres per hour, and as fast as 150,000 kilometres per hour!") and the evils of women ("The kiss of a woman is evil! Evil! Child support! 20 years of crippling financial burden. Child support! Child support!") while eating his breakfast ("Hello breakfast! How did you get here? Ah, fermented! Fermented from the vine!"). I was trying very, very hard to keep from laughing. Tom, to his credit, has got the stony-faced indifferent look down that all New Yorkers seem to have on the subway. I'm sure the hobos will wear thin on me at some point, but for now, they're awesome, like the grimy stains on the rich tapestry that is life in New York, unsightly perhaps, but they definitely add character.

Anyway, hobos aside, the public transit system here is amazing. It seems enormously complicated at first, but once you've gotten lost on it once by yourself, you get the feel of how it works (more on this later). Our first stop was B&H, which is from all accounts, the absolutely best place in Manhattan to buy a camera. I picked up a nice little Sony Cyber-shot W210 12 megapixel with 4GB memory card and bag for little over $200.

What amazed me wasn't the price (which is very decent however - it goes for around R2700 in SA) but the unbelievable levels of professionalism and service at B&H. It's like a case study for efficiency and customer satisfaction. The store displays are magnificent, the staff are knowledgeable and friendly, the prices are great, and they use this nifty railway track-style system that shuttles your order to the stock area, and from there to the collection point. Basically, you speak to a consultant, they recommend a product, and you go to the order point and give your order to the clerk. He inputs it into the system, and a few seconds later, your camera arrives on a conveyor belt where you can inspect it and purchase additional accessories, which similarly are convoyed on the tracks. If you're happy with your order, you go downstairs to pay, and immediately afterwards, go to collection to pick up your order. The amazing thing is that you simply don't wait, at all, ever. There's no queues, because there's 30+ counters at each of the steps. It takes about five minutes from placing your order to collecting it. It was amazing, and I'm fairly confident that if someone had to open a shop in SA with that kind of exemplary service they'd very quickly find themselves in a lot of money.

Camera (sadly, without a charged battery, so no pics today) now in hand, we headed off for brunch. In New York tradition, we stopped at a deli for coffee and a cream cheese bagel. We sat inside and watched the hubbub of the city around us. The bagels and the coffee (both fresh and delicious) were exceptional. My first meal in NY could not have been better.

From there, back onto the confusing subway that does, admittedly, sometimes smell of the rich, pungent aroma of hobo piss, to Tom's work, The Mill. I seldom suffer from work envy on account of how much I enjoy my job, but seeing the sheer opulence of where Tom works was something else. Fridges stuffed with meals and drinks for the staff, millions of dollars worth of high-tech computer equipment everywhere, immaculate stone lobbeys and reception areas, trendy couches and rec rooms, it was like a scene from the Googleplex.

Anyway, at this point I took my leave, as Tom is only on leave next week. With a printout of the NYC subway system (I foolishly left my travel book at his apartment) I headed out to explore. I walked north. And walked some more. And walked some more. Then I did some shopping, and then walked on Broadway for what seemed like an eternity, gazing gobsmacked at the amazing buildings and architecture. Eventually, I committed to a sidestreet and headed west, and after much more walking, ended up at the New York University grounds. I bought some iconic NYU gear (white tee and grey sweater) before exploring some more, finding the Washington Square park and the magnificent Washington arch. It was - and had been - pouring down rain of biblical proportions for some time now, and even with my bottom half thoroughly soaked from the downpour, it was still one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen - it literally took my breath away. I sat on a bench nearby, admiring the scene as students hustled and busted their way past me.


(The Washington Arch - not my pic, sadly, due to my camera’s battery needing to be charged)

I eventually got up and strolled about a bit more, eventually finding my way onto the legendary Fifth avenue. What a treat! Magnificent buildings, steam rising from the sidewalk grates even in the pouring rain, New Yorkers moving about as they do, going about their business with purpose. I savoured the entire experience fully, buying my first coffee from a Starbucks (venti Cappuchino, $6, very nice but way too expensive) and meandering about.

I was walking pasting the Forbes Magazine building when I saw they had a open gallery. I went inside to check it out, and I'm very glad I did. I spent about an hour in the Forbes Gallery, taking in the massive wealth and opulence of one of America's most influential families. They also had an art wing open, displaying some original work by a chap named Chen Jiang Hong. My understanding and interpretation of art is rather limited, but I was very much struck by the stark colours of his work. Something about it resonated with me, and I was deeply impressed. His work is very beautiful, and I'd very much like a print to take back home.


(Hong's Lotus and Bamboo, again, not my pic)

I eventually wandered out of the Forbes building and headed down Fifth avenue some more. It intersected at Broadway again, and I continued on. At some point I saw the most massive building I've ever seen. It was overcast and raining, but this building was literally in the clouds, that's how huge it was. Being the naive tourist that I am (and without my guide book) it was only once I got closer that I found out it was in fact the Empire State Building. It is truly enormous, in a way that cannot be described without seeing it for yourself. It towers over everything else around it, dwarfing nearby buildings which themselves would make any building back in South Africa seem small in comparison. I decided not to go up to the observatory on account of the visibility being so poor, but I did buy a New York Citypass so I can come back at a later stage.

I headed out, and wandered about a bit more until I found an excellent pub/brewery (Heartland Brewery) right near the Empire State which serves some excellent fare. I had a couple of pints of their house varieties, including a rich, sweet ale called Red Rooster and the fiercely refreshing Indiana Pale Ale, which was exceptionally bitter and excellent. They had the Confederation Cup games on the big screens there, and I struck up an easy conversation with the barman about soccer and South Africa. It's been a common trend - anytime you stop in New York (except for on the subway) you're likely to get into a conversation with a New Yorker. Their dour reputation is richly undeserved - my experience so far is that they're hospitable, engaging and friendly.

At this point, my feet were getting pretty sore. I'd walked all the way from TriBeCa to north of the NY Public Library, weaving up and down side streets. I spied a Burger King and decided that it was time to try some American fast food. It's interesting - I suspect NY state law mandates calorie counts on menus, because at both the Starbucks and the Burger King they had calorie counts next to each menu item. I opted for a Burger King classic - the Whopper meal with small fries and a soda. One of the smaller meals on the menu, it still weighed in at a hefty 1400 calories. I can only imagine that a Triple Whopper supersized is a fast-track to heart disease, because even just the regular Whopper was a mighty beast of a meal that took much effort to overcome.

It wasn't five minutes after having walked out of the Burger King that I realised my stomach was having some measure of difficulty adapting to the richness of my new American diet. Those of you who know me can vouch for my intestinal fortitude, but within minutes my bowels were preparing to unleash a venomous bodge so evil it'd make Josef Mengele seem positively benign in comparison. I scuttled into the New York Public Library to find a public restroom, now fearing for not only my own safety, but the other patrons in the room. What follows next is not suitable for these pages - it is simply not savoury. I will however say that a high calorie American fast food meal and a high water table is a frightening combination when first encountered. It was only afterwards when I relayed the experience to a bemused Tom that it all made sense.

Feeling somewhat relieved, I decided it was time to head home. I stopped and asked one of the many, many NY cops how to get to the East Village. That's one thing that's immediately noticeable about New York - the police presence. They're everywhere, but they're also super friendly and helpful. After a short chat about where I was from, I was off looking for the subway entrance and hopping on the E line south. Except I missed my stop. And then I missed the next one. And then I got off, and got on the wrong line trying to fix my mistake. After about 45 minutes of trying to find the right line, missed connections and other tomfoolery, I eventually got onto the F line, switched to the L line (the hipster line), and was back in the East Village. I suppose it would have been more scary had it been later at night, when the crazy people to normal people ratio would have been higher, but it really is a well-designed affair, and easy enough to figure out once you get over that first panicked stage where you realise you're lost without a cellphone in a brand new city.

And so, now I sit here, nursing my feet which are still enormously sore. I'm headed out this evening to get what Tom assures me is the best burger in all of New York at a place called Paul's. I can't wait. I'll start shooting some pics as well tomorrow.