Ok, so I have an exam tomorrow, it's 00:07, I can't sleep and I'm writing this.
The trip to New York arose out of nowhere really. I had wanted to visit for some time, had the opportunity to visit Steph (who lives in Manhattan) and wanted to treat myself with something before the realities of redundancy hit home in December. Also, I wanted to fit it in before spending time in India studying for Microsoft exams.
I flew Continental from Bristol which, I have to say was a refeshing experience having always used Gatwick and Heathrow previously. No queues, car park not 100 miles from terminal, etc etc.
Flight was pretty good. It left at 11:00 UK time and arrived at 14:00 US time.
A 30 minute yellow cab journey with my driver Festus gave me ample time to reflect on the fact that everything I was likely to see would be 'iconic' or related to a film I'd seen (or both). As we entered the Hudson River tunnel I recalled the Stallone film ('Daylight') where he's required to rescue people trapped in that very road tunnel as it floods. See what I mean? It was inevitable.
Just being in the back of the cab with that little smeared, slidy window that separates you from the driver reminded me of Taxi - ok, a pretty obvious one, but I dare anyone not to have the theme tune in their head when taking their first ride in one!
As we came out of the tunnel, the sunlight disappeared and the buildings got large, very large. Activity everywhere. Traffic jams with drivers 'leaning' on their horns, street cleaners, 'deadbeats' pushing shopping trolleys with all their worldy goods, gangs of workers tarmaccing, huge blokes loading scaffolding on to a flatbed truck. I wondered about their 'stories' - how did they get here at this point in time - just as I was rolling by?
The cab took me to East 44th St - which, being just up from the UN Building has a habit of
attracting a large cop presence. The last bit was blocked off by a squad car so I dragged my case the last few yards to the entrance of the tenement building. As I walked down the path (sidewalk) I checked out the array of weaponry attached to each of the cops' belts. Impressive. I wondered as I looked at their faces, if they were 'beat cops' or 'traffic cops' or whether this distinction has no real meaning at all. I wondered if I'd see a fat cop eating a 'twinkie' in a squad car, and, if I did, whether I'd have the guts to take a photo!
Great to see Steph. She's one brave woman to move from London to NY and start over. It's a big city and all that, but it quickly became clear that she's pretty much got the place sussed. As we wandered around Manhattan I was surprised how many people asked her (not me - obviously) for directions - all enquiries were dealt with perfectly and without hesitation.
Dinner was ribs, mash and beans with a couple of Amstel Lites at the Blue Smoke, a local restaurant/music venue. Really great food, excellent music and the service was superb. Now I felt I'd arrived proper.
In fact, everywhere we ate (breakfast, dinner, coffee) had a recurring theme: friendly service and quick delivery (of food). The best meal was easily: 'corn beef hash with two eggs over-easy and a side of potatoes'. Ok, I admit I really enjoyed saying 'over-easy' without feeling ridiculous. The food arrived in no more than two minutes.
After breakfast I managed to get the purchases out of the way (laptop, camera), and then, after the biggest bunch of Harley Davidsons I've ever seen in one place roared past, we headed off to see the Veterans Day parade. This was very moving. Along with all the pomp of an American parade (bands, marching, ill-fitting outfits worn by fat highschool kids playing the bass drums), there were the vets themselves. Some from Korea, some from Vietnam, some from Iraq. There were some humbling moments as they smiled and saluted and waved. What some of them must have seen in their trips to other countries...
I spotted some anti-war protesters on the other side of the street. They were well-behaved women dressed all in pink and holding placards. The vets smiled at them too.
Made me think about how America is such a big place with so many issues of its own and a reputation for being somewhat 'insular' when it comes to foreign travel. How strange then that these guys were sent to fight in places so very far away and in such large numbers.
And yet, here they were in their later years still marching and receiving what can only be described as warmth and love from the crowd that had gathered to watch them, thank them and applaud them.
Sleep beckons - more to follow soon...
