After being forced to stay in the home of Spring Break (the Yucatan peninsula in Mehico) over New Year, you'd expect us to have wanted to be as far away from The States as possible come the end of January. But landing in proper Christmassy temperatures and hearing 'English' was a surprisingly welcome western hug that we were all too ready to hurl ourselves into. And actually, one we may not completely let go of...
The moment we landed, every stereotype you build from films is realised. We stood blindly at the 'elevator' at JFK and before long a lady comes up next to us and presses some secret button to call it, adding, and you'll have to imagine a thick NYPD style accent every time I italicise and quote these guys, 'you can tell you two ain't Noo Yoikers'. You then proceed down to 'the subway' and see the start of 8 Mile unfolding, as you see those familiar enough faces working the metal of the tracks in high-vis jackets and flat peaks, never knowing when someone might drop a beat. The film quotes and scenes 'literally', never end.
Anyway, day one we were going to dedicate largely to 'Brooklyn' - sorry I'll chill out on the accent thing, though in reality, I don't think Alice and I uttered a syllable of our Queen's tongue the whole time we were there. We headed south from our apartment through Manhattan to make a couple of stops en route to the East London of NYC.
First up was ground zero. 9/11 was the biggest public disaster we've experienced in our life time, and wherever the blame falls, it was bloody tragic. It felt right for us to go and see, and pay respects to those that died, and I must say, it's a moving memorial. The only slight disappointment is the number of people taking smiley selfies with it all in the background.
Heaviness aside, we then strolled down to the water to hop on the Statten Island ferry, a tipoff from Nidal that ended up being a free way of taking in the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge. Worth it when it's free.
After an already busy morning, we took the Subway over to Bushwick. Bushwick is the out of town, run down industrial area that every London twenty something wants to discover, but sadly does not seem that possible anymore.
Residential and commercial buildings you can barely decipher a difference between, meaning most of the living spaces look to be the high ceilinged, fire exit scaffolded warehouse spaces that every urbanite has dreamed of since Friends. Bars and restaurants are genuinely individual i.e. not all enamelware and filament bulbs, but centralised bars that pronounce themselves to the room by nesting 7ft high and requiring steps to sit at them. Or unthemed furniture that has you sitting eating wood fired pizza in a rocking chair.
And on that segway...our lunch stop was the numerously voted for 'Robertas'.
A simple jalapeño, onion and buffalo mozza number was recommended to us by our waiter - Ben Affleck in Good Will Hunting, and washed down with a healthy glug of local craft, and the usual sex noises from our table as we nuzzled into the succulent slices.
Time was slipping away from us post-lunch, so we power walked over to an area known as the Bushwick Collective (thanks Anders), a number of streets known for their amazing street art. The piece below you may recognise, and set the standard for most of the pieces we saw. How sick?
When it became too dark, and I must add, bloody cold - bearing in mind if we'd tried to fly to NY a few days earlier, we couldn't have because of the snow storms you may have read about - we scurried into a few bars recommended by Woodabeen - the most notable being The Sampler. Sickest vibe, nice and warm, and offering an abundance of belting beers. Go here, if you come here.
After quite a few 6-8% pale ales, we headed up to a place I'd found on TimeOut called 'Fritzl's lunch box' for a delectable couple of burgers, one Chicken and one Fish.
This is another firm reco, especially for one of New York's many 'sophisticated grease dens' (think Dirty Burger in LDN). Come 11pm we were zonked, and ready to freshen up before another big day in the Grande Manzana.
At this point we'll have to mention the pad we got hooked up with by my Aunty and Uncle (thank you so much!). We were in midtown Manhattan in pure heaven, particularly after 5 months of ear plugs and back pain in dormitories.
The View from the flat.
That morning, Alice jetted off to the Alvin Ailey studios (her absolute Dance hero) for a class with the junior company there, and I headed out to run a lap of Central Park. Two more highlights of this stop-off.
After our princely, enrobed breakfast at the flat, we were (slightly reluctantly!) ready to head out and see some more sights.
First on the agenda was The High Line, a converted train line that used to transport goods from the port into Manhattan, and now is a beautiful walk way that snakes around lower Manhattan towards Chelsea Market.
Before long, it was time to eat again : )
We hadn't actually had a proper 'boiger n fries' yet, so in the beautiful Chelsea Market, we stopped in at Creamline for that, and an utterly off-the-chain peanut butter shake.
It had been a big morning's eating and Alice hadn't yet seen Central Park. We also wanted to be over that way to go to MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) for 4pm, as Uniqlo partner with the museum to offer free entry on Friday afternoons (saving $25).
Central Park is as lovely as you'd imagine, especially so when it's blanketed with snow.
There's a surprising amount of wildlife in such an inner city space.
MOMA is well worth a visit to see some of the big guns. I always have to get up really close to appreciate the genuine articles.
6pm was approaching, which only meant one thing. One thing that we'd actually booked over 4 months before...
And boy is an American sports game everything we'd imagined. At every time-out there was something going on on the court. Whether it was 20 odd staff stampeding the floor with t-shirt guns, firing freebies up into the crowd, first class cheerleaders with fireworks and laser shows, or Run DMC performing at half-time, there was never a dull moment. The game finished up at 102 - 84 in favour of the Knicks, so we were never short of a swish either.
Desperate to squeeze in one last activity before our time in New York was up, we pelted over to the Jewish deli Bates' recommended for 'a balloney sandwich'. Not really, a pastrami sandwich, caked in hot mustard and gherkins. Bloody spectacular, albeit blinking huge, as with all portions here.
A closing word on New York ::
We've been to some corking spots over the last 5 months and purposely, a world away from what we know at home. But to have a 2 day break in a city comparable to home was a really welcome breather from it all.
But when I say comparable, there is an aura surrounding this city that whilst is palpable at home, is just a little fresher and more undiscovered - which I'm sure is just because that's what it is to us.
But as mentioned, it is the buildings and services that make this place tip-toe above London in the rankings, and also, the people. Everyone is extroverted, different, and confident, which I think if you think about Brits, aren't typical values you'd associate with our lot.
Alice summed it up quite nicely in her experience at the dance school. In London, if Alice goes to a class the changing rooms are full of girls applying make-up (before a workout!?) and often looking one another up and down. It can generally be a judgemental vibe (which is undoubtedly a sign of the times, and the resultant of Facebook IMO).
The New York dance experience is different. It's showy, but in a different way. There seemed to be more passion, drive, determination and willing to rid inhibitions to get the most out of the class. New Yorkers seem grateful for every opportunity they have (maybe a religious influence but I'm not convinced it's down to that), and that means everyone throws everything they have, at everything they get. Broadway isn't simply the main strip for global standard stage performances, the whole city is. The influence of visual entertainment in this country is profound, and this lot are just properly living up to the scenes the films have painted for us. I, being the slightly cynical Brit I've just mocked, was slightly sceptical of liking America for these traits, but have come away adoring this city even more than my own, and actually, desperate to have a bigger slice of it.
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