New York, New York

I spent the first five days of March 2010 in New York City. I arrived late at JFK on the Monday, and was intrigued by the grottiness of it. Airports are pretty much the same all over the world. But once we were in the place was okay. Quite quick, really, in terms of my back pack turning up. But it was late, I was operating on not very many hours of sleep, and there is a three hour difference between the west and east coasts of the USA. I found an information desk and asked a chap there which was the best way into Manhattan. He told me details of the trains - cost, how long it would take, where I'd need to change. He told me about the cabs, and how they're capped at a price and how long it would take to get direct to my hotel.

I took the cab, with a little bit of a strange thrill. Their reputations aren't great, but I had an uneventful trip along the motorway that was almost devoid of traffic, and what traffic there was happily zipped along with no snags. My cabbie was polite, helped with my bag when I got to my hotel, and I was happy to tip him. (Yes, I've had US tipping etiquette explained: this is only a comment on my feelings based on the countries I've lived in where tipping isn't a necessity, but is a useful way to show appreciation when it's deserved). On the trip I could see banks of snow piled up along the road and in front of the houses. I'd been lucky: over the weekend Washington DC and the eastern states had been dumped on again with snow storms. Not only was New York not so badly hit, it had stopped in time for JFK to be clear. No, the delays I had was because of scheduled, but not well publicised, works to improve its main runway (thus closing it) and a bit of a scandal to do with the children of air traffic controllers speaking to air crews... Youch. Good thing I'm a good flier, and I don't think my flight was one affected.

My hotel had seen better days, but it was clean and certainly spacious! Two walk-in wardrobes, a fridge, decent sized bathroom and one of those monstrously huge beds that somehow didn't take up too much room in the main room. I was up on the 16th floor, and had a fairly good corner view of both the top of the impressive Chrysler building and typical Manhattan apartments. I watched a bit of telly, catching some new Law and Order, which I thought was delightfully appropriate.

My hotel was mid town, not too far from Grand Central Station, which lived up to its reputation as something pretty special. On Day One I walked to it and went inside. It is a photogenic type of place, especially when shooting in black and white, and I was mucking about with trying to get the movement of the people rushing about getting to work, or maybe other places. I'm pretty happy with this shot. I didn't hang about though, but made a mental note of next time making sure I would catch a train from this amazingly cool place.

It was a sunny, crisply cold morning so I decided to do the outdoors stuff: Central Park, Empire State Building, and maybe get down to Battery Park. 

As a long-time Beatles and John Lennon fan, of course Strawberry Fields was a must. Since Central Park is HUGE, I headed to the west side and walked north. I was surprised that the mosaic with the word "imagine" was pretty much it. The park benches around all had little plaques, but not all of them had anything to do with John. There was an understated one from the people of Liverpool to the people of Manhattan following 11 September 2001... 

I played with my new zoom lens and got some nice close-up shots of various animals busy in the park. The snow everywhere made things very peaceful and quiet, even though there were quite a few people about. I really liked the part they've dedicated to nature and I bet in summer when the trees are in full leaf it would be teaming with life. It was mostly sparrows and squirrels, with a few ducks, gulls and geese. I easily could have spent all day there, but three days to get a feel for one of the most amazing cities on this planet... time meant I had to move.

I headed south on one of the avenues and paid over the dosh for the still spectacular views of Manhattan afforded by the Empire State Building. It was a shame that the sunny crispness I'd enjoyed at Central Park in the morning had started to haze over a bit. I was very impressed by the way they are geared up for massive crowds (which they must get outside of winter!) but happy to adapt to quiet days like the day I went. Less impressed by the pressure to have your photo taken, but actually here they were pleasant about it unlike at the wharf waiting for the Alcatraz ferry in San Francisco. It was here at the Empire State that I think I worked something out about New Yorkers - if you make the opening gambit, they seem quite happy to have a chat, if they're not pressured by other things. At least, that was my experience. I just said thanks to a lift attendant as I was leaving (a woman who must have been having a very boring time of it) and we then engaged in a bit of a conversation while waiting for the lift to turn up. She told me it was her birthday and what her plans were to celebrate. 

Ground Zero

After grabbing a hot dog with the works from a street vendor, like, you know, you have to, I kept heading south to Ground Zero. I must say that was with a strange feeling. I certainly remember where I was on 11 September 2001; in my lifetime it is one of those awful dates. And, I have to say it, not just because of what happened in New York, Washington DC and Virginia (but that's not for here). I didn't know anyone who died there in Lower Manhattan back then, but I do know people who were there that morning in the basement of the towers and but for luck or whatever you want to call it had left within the hour before the first plane struck. Part of me didn't want to go to see it; but another part wanted to in order to just quietly pay respects. Part of me was resisting in case the place was commemorated in some awful, mawkish way. But, it isn't. In fact, if you didn't know any better you would think it was just a construction site. It was humbling overhearing someone showing a friend the site and describing that day. Just someone random. Just quietly stating the facts, like I guess you just have to. On my last day I went along to the New York Police Department museum (a bit further south and on the eastern side) where they have a small section on the top floor dedicated to the day. Again, it surprised me in a way as to how sensitive it was. Not at all over-the-top and thus robbing people of their dignity. And I noticed the fire trucks down that way had the names of colleagues who died in the rescue attempts; not ostentatiously, just respectfully. 

To go into the bustle of New York's China Town was a good way to get into a completely different head space. I'm always amazed that even in relatively compact cities like Manhattan the changes in neighbourhoods when you just cross a road. I grabbed dinner down there before walking north and back to the hotel for a relatively early night.

The rain and sleet promised by the excitable weather guys on the TV actually eventuated, but I was lucky in that it didn't really start to dump down until after I got to the Natural History Museum (near Central Park). I walked there via Times Square, which surprised me in how small it was relative to how I'd always imagined it. But it was bright, and the lights and ads and TV shows an assault on the senses. And that's early in the morning! I spent much of the day at the museum, along with half the NYPD it seemed, who were there en mass in their dress uniforms and medals with their families. The museum itself reminded me of the NSW Museum and the Horniman in south east London - all of a similar ilk. Built during a particular time and for a particular reason, and now having to change to cater for new audiences with different needs. It was full of dioramas of American animals over the millennia, an interesting collection from controversial anthropologist Margaret Mead, and bones. Lots and lots of bones. Dinosaur bones. Great stuff. I loved the one in the entrance hall, and mucked about with a new lens.

After grabbing a pretzel from a street vendor for lunch, I headed to Little Italy down Broadway this time. I had one of those infamously huge American portions of bloody good Spaghetti Bolognaise from an Italian restaurant serving since 1903. A haunt of Frank Sinatra, so the waiter told me. Excellent food, and very pleasant red wine, too. Little Italy is now in danger of becoming Microscopic Italy as China Town encroaches, but maybe the weird fascination people have with the fictional versions of the mafia muddled up with a romanticised memory of the real mafia who operated there will keep some of it alive. Rather than walk the 60 or so blocks north on very tired feet I wanted to try the subway but was thwarted by the way the system works. Instead, a bus. I had the right money, but unlike San Francisco, in New York it's coins only, sister! I was a quarter short, but the driver - oh, what a wonderful stereotype she was - told me to just sit down and muttered something about industrial action against the public transport systems in New York. She was delightfully rude with everyone, but in such a way I found it impossible to take offence at her. 

All too soon, my last day dawned. Bagel and coffee breakfast from a different cafe (I'd been trying out different ones each day, and going for different American options each time), and trying to work out the best plan of campaign for a rain-free but cloudy and cold day. I went over to Greenwich Village and the fashion district (fascinating, and I'm not into that stuff at all). It's like being on a different island. I also popped into a giant camera warehouse thing and got a good second hand bag, and a few other odds and ends for my camera.

I also got down to Battery Park through various road and other works around the financial district. Using the zoom, I got a few great shots of the Statue of Liberty, but decided against catching the ferry across. The viewing deck was closed, so for another time. There were some guys practicing some hip hop dancing, and a few tidal waves of tourists. Otherwise, very quiet and a place where you could lose yourself if you wanted to just sit and stare out at the water. I went to the NYPD museum and realised that this holiday I'd been to where Al Capone had effectively ended his criminal life (Alcatraz, although he didn't die there but had been released because of his syphilis) and now where he'd started out as such a violent thug the "mafia" told him to bugger off to Chicago. I also saw the court house familiar to anyone who watches Law and Order, and other New York cop shows I just adore. I walked along Wall Street for a little while, diving into the maze of little streets down there that unlike the rest of Manhattan isn't an easy-to-navigate grid.

Dinner in a funky little fusion place on 4th Avenue, and back to the hotel to pack and watch two new Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. Both good episodes, as they turned out, and I had that extra little thing of actually now having a clue about some of the neighbourhoods on Manhattan where the action took place. Even a few places I now recognised. I had an early start on the Friday morning, and the woman at the hotel did one of those brilliant flagging-down-of-a-cab routines, and my trip back to JFK was as uneventful as my arriving. The security on leaving the USA was nothing on Heathrow, and JFK is a sparse place for departures (at least the terminal I was at was). Still, the flight was almost empty (bliss) and beautifully on time. Thank you, British Airways.

I knew I would like New York, and I do. So much to do, and my three days was a taster only. Thankfully I live in a city where it's not too far away and not too expensive to get to. I will be back for sure!