I had a lovely morning. I had decided to go to the sw corner of the island. (oaks bluf is in the ne) According to the timetable i have that looked like it would take 3 buses most of which run every hour. Could take a while. There are set stops in the towns but mostly you just wave at the bus and they stop. Turns out that the 1st bus connected to the 2nd ( the 1st driver radioed the 2nd to say he had a passenger - a common ocurrence i have discovered) and then the 2nd bus became the 3rd bus. I arrived at Aquinnah, in the SW corner at 10.11 and had an hour till the return bus.
Aquinnah is a collection of scattered houses, a lighthouse, a few shops ( opening at 11 I discovered) a pub ( closed for winter still) and a nice take-away shop. The main attraction is the different –coloured clay cliffs in the area. I went for a walk to the beach to get a look at the cliffs, being careful to stay on the path. There are big signs up everywhere warning people of Deer ticks that can cause Lyme disease. The beach is pebbly. It was quite attractive, but the whole point is very open to the elements. All the vegetation was stunted from fierce winter winds. The book Caleb’s Crossing was set in this area. The bus went into a Wampanoag ( the local tribe) settlement. When I got back onto the bus there was a lady talking to the driver about some locals. I had a half eaten lobster roll in my hand and commented on how good it was. She said the wife of the guy who served me was ‘tribal’ – her word. Turns out she was Wampanoag too. I asked lots of questions, she answered them. She said she had travelled a lot and she was clearly very aware of how our indigenous people have been treated. She has recently returned ‘home’ to live permanently and teaches kids in school the language, cooking etc.
I wanted to go to Menemsha – a small settlement North of Aquinnah but on a different bus route. I had about a 3 km very pleasant walk. It is a working fishing port, but not very many workers were working when I was there. The beach scenes of Jaws were filmed there. I had an icecream and apple juice sitting on a bench watching the seagulls ( about all that was moving) go past. I got home on 3 different buses – helped along the way by the bus drivers.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Sunday – Oaks Bluff
It has been a beautiful day here – as long as you have enough layers on if exposed to the wind – very sunny. I went for a walk along the waterfront before breakfast, enjoyed freshly cooked waffles, strawberries and real maple syrup , then set off to explore the historic sights of Oaks Bluff.
Some history – Oaks Bluff started in 1835 with a handful of tents pitched amid a grove of oak trees for a week of spiritual rejuvenation. By 1870, thousands were coming to the most famous Methodist camp meeting in the US and to holiday in the town that grew up around the original meeting site. Because OB did not start with whaling or shipping, like other towns, it has a lighthearted air. Whimsical, multicoloured gingerbread cottages were erected to replace the tents. Then bigger houses in similar styles
Today I saw :
Fancy houses along the waterfront. Huge – all different and mostly in a style that if I had one I would call it ‘Susie’s Folly’ . The book says Queen Ann or Gothic Revival .
Narrow streets lined with colourful gingerbread cottages. Mostly vacant for the winter
the Tabernacle- originally a huge tent, now has a roof , open sides and seating for 3000
Oaks Bluff Harbour – holds 500 boats in the height of summer, only a few now. The tourists are only just starting to arrive. I asked the waitress last night – she said there were only 1 or 2 tourists in the crowded restaurant, none today ( see later)
Flying Horses – built in 1876 the oldest operating platform carousel in the country with 22 horses with real horsehair tails.
An octagonal chapel with a funny 3 tiered roof
A so-called ‘arts district’ with about 10 arty places – all closed
Several museums – closed ( I am not heart broken)
Today I ate / drank at :
A coffee shop – but not an espresso machine – just a type of ‘put the pod in and press the button’ machine. Lots of different coffees to choose. About 5 machines. The place was crowded. I sat and read the Boston Globe
A sort of beach shack ( exposed to the wind) with beer signs, locals, 60’s music and lobster specials. I ate a steamed small lobster and a grilled corn cob. People , as they arrived, would greet other locals, nod at me, sometimes ask where I was from, smile when bits of my lobster claw went flying. No other tourists
A beer house – lots of wood, canoes in the ceiling, locals, peanut shells on the floor, adverts for varying community events ( many businesses are doing something on mothers day to aid breast cancer research. ). I had a big bowl of clam chowder – total $9 incl tip. No other tourists.
Some history – Oaks Bluff started in 1835 with a handful of tents pitched amid a grove of oak trees for a week of spiritual rejuvenation. By 1870, thousands were coming to the most famous Methodist camp meeting in the US and to holiday in the town that grew up around the original meeting site. Because OB did not start with whaling or shipping, like other towns, it has a lighthearted air. Whimsical, multicoloured gingerbread cottages were erected to replace the tents. Then bigger houses in similar styles
Today I saw :
Fancy houses along the waterfront. Huge – all different and mostly in a style that if I had one I would call it ‘Susie’s Folly’ . The book says Queen Ann or Gothic Revival .
Narrow streets lined with colourful gingerbread cottages. Mostly vacant for the winter
the Tabernacle- originally a huge tent, now has a roof , open sides and seating for 3000
Oaks Bluff Harbour – holds 500 boats in the height of summer, only a few now. The tourists are only just starting to arrive. I asked the waitress last night – she said there were only 1 or 2 tourists in the crowded restaurant, none today ( see later)
Flying Horses – built in 1876 the oldest operating platform carousel in the country with 22 horses with real horsehair tails.
An octagonal chapel with a funny 3 tiered roof
A so-called ‘arts district’ with about 10 arty places – all closed
Several museums – closed ( I am not heart broken)
Today I ate / drank at :
A coffee shop – but not an espresso machine – just a type of ‘put the pod in and press the button’ machine. Lots of different coffees to choose. About 5 machines. The place was crowded. I sat and read the Boston Globe
A sort of beach shack ( exposed to the wind) with beer signs, locals, 60’s music and lobster specials. I ate a steamed small lobster and a grilled corn cob. People , as they arrived, would greet other locals, nod at me, sometimes ask where I was from, smile when bits of my lobster claw went flying. No other tourists
A beer house – lots of wood, canoes in the ceiling, locals, peanut shells on the floor, adverts for varying community events ( many businesses are doing something on mothers day to aid breast cancer research. ). I had a big bowl of clam chowder – total $9 incl tip. No other tourists.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Saturday 28th Travel to Martha’s vineyard
I am now in Martha’s Vineyard, on holiday, so the blogs for the next few days may be brief.
All went smoothly getting here. Walk to subway, subway to Penn Stn, train ( Acela – thank you to the people who suggested, it was worth the extra money – at least 3 people) to Boston. The Acela is an upmarket train with business and first class, I gather aimed at business travel in the Washington – new York_ boston Corridor. The free wifi worked. At Boston I managed to make the connection with the bus relatively easily despite twice being directed to the wrong counter to buy a ticket. It was a 1 ¾ hour ride to Woods Hole and then a ¾ hour wait for the first ferry. Everyone else sat inside except for me and a pleasant young man who sat outside. He graduated a year ago with a civil engineering degree and counts himself one of the lucky ones to have a job – dealing with waste water. He is working on a scheme to increase the capacity of the underground tanks, under Boston, that hold the combined stormwater and sewerage. If it rains too much, they almost overflow and their contents get pumped out to sea after first being hit with chlorine to ‘sanatise’ them and then being dechlorinised . He has never been to New York. Said Boston was big enough for him.
Then I caught the bus from Vineyard Haven, one of the settlements on Martha’s Vineyard to Oaks’s Bluff, where I am staying. I have a nice view of the water – Nantucket Sound, but not when I am sitting at the little table, like I requested. Never mind, tomorrow I will do some furniture rearranging.
I went for a walk around the town and had a very nice dinner at a place recommended by the Ukranian lady at the desk here. I walked in, the main bar was almost full and she asked if I wanted to sit at the Rah Bar and pointed at another bar . Fine, said I, not understanding what a Rah Bar was. While I was having my cocktail ( to celebrate my holiday) and then my MV clam chowder ( because it is what you eat here) , I got chatting to the guy who was setting up what he described as the oyster bar. He was from Dublin. He asked if I had been there – I said only for a night, but it had a nice feel ( well, it did) – he replied ‘You Aussies- you go everywhere. I watched him as I was having my scallops ( to test whether they were as good as the 2 lots I had in NY) . His job was to open the oysters and prepare the plates of oysters for the customers. Most of the time he was flat out. I also looked through a touristy booklet on MV that I had picked up and worked out that the Rah Bar was the Raw Bar. Several restaurants have them. Then , while I was having my apple crumble ( to soak up the rest of the alcohol in the cocktail) I got chatting to the 2 locals who had come to sit next to me at the Raw bar. They were having their oysters and telling me how they were farmed in salty water nearby – he did say but I have forgotten the name- the guy from Dubin passed me one across the bar. Everyone I have seen in NY and here slurps them straight from the shell, so so did I. It was a bit hard to comment on the taste because I was in the middle of my apple crumble! I waddled ( not reeled) back here.
Tomorrow I am doing as little as possible. I wonder how successful I will be.
All went smoothly getting here. Walk to subway, subway to Penn Stn, train ( Acela – thank you to the people who suggested, it was worth the extra money – at least 3 people) to Boston. The Acela is an upmarket train with business and first class, I gather aimed at business travel in the Washington – new York_ boston Corridor. The free wifi worked. At Boston I managed to make the connection with the bus relatively easily despite twice being directed to the wrong counter to buy a ticket. It was a 1 ¾ hour ride to Woods Hole and then a ¾ hour wait for the first ferry. Everyone else sat inside except for me and a pleasant young man who sat outside. He graduated a year ago with a civil engineering degree and counts himself one of the lucky ones to have a job – dealing with waste water. He is working on a scheme to increase the capacity of the underground tanks, under Boston, that hold the combined stormwater and sewerage. If it rains too much, they almost overflow and their contents get pumped out to sea after first being hit with chlorine to ‘sanatise’ them and then being dechlorinised . He has never been to New York. Said Boston was big enough for him.
Then I caught the bus from Vineyard Haven, one of the settlements on Martha’s Vineyard to Oaks’s Bluff, where I am staying. I have a nice view of the water – Nantucket Sound, but not when I am sitting at the little table, like I requested. Never mind, tomorrow I will do some furniture rearranging.
I went for a walk around the town and had a very nice dinner at a place recommended by the Ukranian lady at the desk here. I walked in, the main bar was almost full and she asked if I wanted to sit at the Rah Bar and pointed at another bar . Fine, said I, not understanding what a Rah Bar was. While I was having my cocktail ( to celebrate my holiday) and then my MV clam chowder ( because it is what you eat here) , I got chatting to the guy who was setting up what he described as the oyster bar. He was from Dublin. He asked if I had been there – I said only for a night, but it had a nice feel ( well, it did) – he replied ‘You Aussies- you go everywhere. I watched him as I was having my scallops ( to test whether they were as good as the 2 lots I had in NY) . His job was to open the oysters and prepare the plates of oysters for the customers. Most of the time he was flat out. I also looked through a touristy booklet on MV that I had picked up and worked out that the Rah Bar was the Raw Bar. Several restaurants have them. Then , while I was having my apple crumble ( to soak up the rest of the alcohol in the cocktail) I got chatting to the 2 locals who had come to sit next to me at the Raw bar. They were having their oysters and telling me how they were farmed in salty water nearby – he did say but I have forgotten the name- the guy from Dubin passed me one across the bar. Everyone I have seen in NY and here slurps them straight from the shell, so so did I. It was a bit hard to comment on the taste because I was in the middle of my apple crumble! I waddled ( not reeled) back here.
Tomorrow I am doing as little as possible. I wonder how successful I will be.
Thur and Friday Pleasantville
I ventured into the Post Office again on Thursday morning only to be ‘greeted’ by Ms Grumpy again. She spoke really fast telling me that she couldnot possibly answer questions because there was a queue etc etc. I was trying my best but got nowhere so I left her window, stood and thought – I wanted to walk out but I really did want to send the 2kg or so of stuff. I rejoined the queue, waited till I got the other lady who must have heard what was going on . She was extra nice, worked it all out, gave me the box and custom form and said quite clearly to come back to her window. I filled it all out, rejoined the queue and when I got to her window, she said ‘Oh, you did not have to queue up again’. I shrugged. When I thanked her and left, her eyes and head nod clearly said sorry for Ms Grumpy. The experience has just highlighted how friendly and helpful everyone else has been.
In the afternoon I caught the train to Pleasantville – a village in the Hudson Valley, just East of the Hudson River about ¾ hour by train North East of New York City. I was met at the station by John’s elder sister’s husband’s cousin.and taken to her and her husband’s home 1 ½ miles away on the edge of the village. John had met these lovely, vey hospitable people. Their good friend also came for dinner and to stay the night. I had met her before . The evening - good company, delicious food, - passed very quickly. All 3 have led very interesting lives in many different countries.
On Friday morning, after pancakes and fruit, we went for a walk in the nearby Rockefeller Estate. This is a working dairy farm but with many acres of public woods. The green of the leaves and grass is much brighter than I am used to.
For lunch we went to an interesting place called the Stone Barn. This was part of a large estate that grows lots of organic food, has farm tours, kids camps, a fancy restaurant and a café with nice food that we went to. Then we went to a place on the Hudson River where there used to be a large residence but now there are only some retaining walls left – and the lovely view and the magnificent huge old trees. After that we went to visit one of the daughters of my hosts in her new home. After a drive around some of the streets of Pleasantville and a cup of tea it was time for the return train journey. It was a lovely day – windy and cold, but sunny. It was good to have the company of people who knew of me and my background and had been to Australia in the middle of my time away on my own.
In the afternoon I caught the train to Pleasantville – a village in the Hudson Valley, just East of the Hudson River about ¾ hour by train North East of New York City. I was met at the station by John’s elder sister’s husband’s cousin.and taken to her and her husband’s home 1 ½ miles away on the edge of the village. John had met these lovely, vey hospitable people. Their good friend also came for dinner and to stay the night. I had met her before . The evening - good company, delicious food, - passed very quickly. All 3 have led very interesting lives in many different countries.
On Friday morning, after pancakes and fruit, we went for a walk in the nearby Rockefeller Estate. This is a working dairy farm but with many acres of public woods. The green of the leaves and grass is much brighter than I am used to.
For lunch we went to an interesting place called the Stone Barn. This was part of a large estate that grows lots of organic food, has farm tours, kids camps, a fancy restaurant and a café with nice food that we went to. Then we went to a place on the Hudson River where there used to be a large residence but now there are only some retaining walls left – and the lovely view and the magnificent huge old trees. After that we went to visit one of the daughters of my hosts in her new home. After a drive around some of the streets of Pleasantville and a cup of tea it was time for the return train journey. It was a lovely day – windy and cold, but sunny. It was good to have the company of people who knew of me and my background and had been to Australia in the middle of my time away on my own.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Wednesday – This and That
Today I pottered. Firstly, I pottered trying to work out what had to be clean for tomorrow’s sleepover at rellies of rellies – more info later – and then the following day’s trip to Martha’s Vineyard. Then I pottered trying to work out what to do on my last day and half here. I am tired. I thought a coffee might help. I squeezed in to the last available table 2 inches away from it’s neighbours. Other people wider than me seem to be able to ‘squeeze’ more elegantly. I trip over things, knock glasses over etc etc. Ah well. I read the magazines from the weekend New York Times all about brain issues – training to be more intelligent, how steady walking rather than aerobic exercise does something good but I have forgotten what , about depression etc. The book section was less worrisome!
Then I pottered with my photos for a while, then I walked to the Met Museum. I quite confidently told them that I had been the previous week, paid the regular entrance fee then ( I did not tell then I had a city pass which made it cheaper for me) and would like to pay only $5. I think I offered too much. She was very polite to me. $25 is the suggested price ( if you read the very fine print)
I looked at the 2 Chagall paintings I had not seen the first time, a photography room and some medieval illuminated books and other things. I was not feeling crash hot so thought it was lunch time. I walked back yet another way through Central Park. It really is an amazing place. There are minor roads for service vehicles, police etc but most traffic goes on the few roads that are sort of hidden. It is really well designed.
I had a gravlax and cream cheese toasted everything ( meaning all seeds) bagel at Barney Greengrass – an UWS deli that has been around for a while. I liked the gravlax ( salmon cured (not smoked) in a variety of things depending on the place but always including dill). I kept walking to Riverside Park – a long bit of green on the map between the UWS and the Hudson River. I only walked along a small part of it - from about W89 to W 78 but it was pleasant – except for the constant noise of the traffic on the freeway between the park and the river. That is confusing. Starting at the river, there is about a 3m wide concrete walking/jogging/cycling path, then a 4 ?? lane freeway, then a 70m wide ( varies a bit) green space with big trees, plygrounds, flower beds, memorials and a slope up to the road and a row of fancy apartments.
I bought on the way home a biscuit from a vegan café I have been to a few times . They call it a magic biscuit. I have had one before. The ingredients are listed and they all sound OK ( the word I was going to use was kosher – but this is not the city to use that word frivolously) . I pottered at home for a while eating my biscuit and coffee.
I had a nice dinner at a French restaurant in the same block that had been recommended by the owners. I spent the money that I did not spend in the Met Museum shop that is full of lovely things. I had a nice white burgundy from France. Why have we stopped drinking white burgundy in Australia? . I remember Houghton’s White Burgundy from ages ago.
Some things I have forgotten to record:
Another frustration on Monday was my forgetfulness making a cup of coffee in my studio. I did not put the pot into which the coffee drips underneath the place from which the drips come. Consequently a cup of coffee was all over the bench.
I forgot to say that the Library was a lovely building. It is Beaux Arts in style, faced with white marble. The main reading room is huge with a lovely ceiling and lots of light. There are 88 miles of books stored beneath the library.
In the children’s section of the library is a display of the original toys that AA Milne gave to Christopher Robin Milne between 1920 and 1922 and on which he based the famous books. Apparently these toys were given to the American publisher in 1947 . In the display case are Winnie-the-Pooh, Eeyore, Piglet, Kanga and Tigger. No Roo. I was annoyed to see another character in the display. None of the other visitors around me knew who it was. Someone went and asked. Several years ago someone wrote another book with the same characters and introduced Lottie the otter and that was she. I thought she was an interloper.
It has been quite cold here over the last few days and some of the doormen on the fancy buildings have their winter uniforms on – or maybe just their between seasons uniform. Some have very nicely cut overcoats. I assume when it gets colder they have nice scarves and gloves.
I wonder if there is a maximum number of dogs a dog-walker can walk. I have seen 3 walkers with 6 dogs, but none with 7.
Greenacre Park ( where I could not take a photo) is 18m wide and 36m deep. What is called a vest-pocket park.
I am having trouble thinking of a little momento to buy for me that will remind me of my time in New York
I am having even more trouble thinking of something to buy for my children - I am hopeless at this and it causes me a lot of stress.
When I told Susan, the owner, that I admired all the small places in the city that had chairs and pot plants etc outside and had been made pleasant to sit in she replied that it is often a trade-off. If a building makes an effort to provide some recreational space, they get to build more storeys.
A male nanny is a manny.
Then I pottered with my photos for a while, then I walked to the Met Museum. I quite confidently told them that I had been the previous week, paid the regular entrance fee then ( I did not tell then I had a city pass which made it cheaper for me) and would like to pay only $5. I think I offered too much. She was very polite to me. $25 is the suggested price ( if you read the very fine print)
I looked at the 2 Chagall paintings I had not seen the first time, a photography room and some medieval illuminated books and other things. I was not feeling crash hot so thought it was lunch time. I walked back yet another way through Central Park. It really is an amazing place. There are minor roads for service vehicles, police etc but most traffic goes on the few roads that are sort of hidden. It is really well designed.
I had a gravlax and cream cheese toasted everything ( meaning all seeds) bagel at Barney Greengrass – an UWS deli that has been around for a while. I liked the gravlax ( salmon cured (not smoked) in a variety of things depending on the place but always including dill). I kept walking to Riverside Park – a long bit of green on the map between the UWS and the Hudson River. I only walked along a small part of it - from about W89 to W 78 but it was pleasant – except for the constant noise of the traffic on the freeway between the park and the river. That is confusing. Starting at the river, there is about a 3m wide concrete walking/jogging/cycling path, then a 4 ?? lane freeway, then a 70m wide ( varies a bit) green space with big trees, plygrounds, flower beds, memorials and a slope up to the road and a row of fancy apartments.
I bought on the way home a biscuit from a vegan café I have been to a few times . They call it a magic biscuit. I have had one before. The ingredients are listed and they all sound OK ( the word I was going to use was kosher – but this is not the city to use that word frivolously) . I pottered at home for a while eating my biscuit and coffee.
I had a nice dinner at a French restaurant in the same block that had been recommended by the owners. I spent the money that I did not spend in the Met Museum shop that is full of lovely things. I had a nice white burgundy from France. Why have we stopped drinking white burgundy in Australia? . I remember Houghton’s White Burgundy from ages ago.
Some things I have forgotten to record:
Another frustration on Monday was my forgetfulness making a cup of coffee in my studio. I did not put the pot into which the coffee drips underneath the place from which the drips come. Consequently a cup of coffee was all over the bench.
I forgot to say that the Library was a lovely building. It is Beaux Arts in style, faced with white marble. The main reading room is huge with a lovely ceiling and lots of light. There are 88 miles of books stored beneath the library.
In the children’s section of the library is a display of the original toys that AA Milne gave to Christopher Robin Milne between 1920 and 1922 and on which he based the famous books. Apparently these toys were given to the American publisher in 1947 . In the display case are Winnie-the-Pooh, Eeyore, Piglet, Kanga and Tigger. No Roo. I was annoyed to see another character in the display. None of the other visitors around me knew who it was. Someone went and asked. Several years ago someone wrote another book with the same characters and introduced Lottie the otter and that was she. I thought she was an interloper.
It has been quite cold here over the last few days and some of the doormen on the fancy buildings have their winter uniforms on – or maybe just their between seasons uniform. Some have very nicely cut overcoats. I assume when it gets colder they have nice scarves and gloves.
I wonder if there is a maximum number of dogs a dog-walker can walk. I have seen 3 walkers with 6 dogs, but none with 7.
Greenacre Park ( where I could not take a photo) is 18m wide and 36m deep. What is called a vest-pocket park.
I am having trouble thinking of a little momento to buy for me that will remind me of my time in New York
I am having even more trouble thinking of something to buy for my children - I am hopeless at this and it causes me a lot of stress.
When I told Susan, the owner, that I admired all the small places in the city that had chairs and pot plants etc outside and had been made pleasant to sit in she replied that it is often a trade-off. If a building makes an effort to provide some recreational space, they get to build more storeys.
A male nanny is a manny.
War Horse
This was amazing. I cannot remember seeing anything like it. Like the movie, this play was based on a book about a horse, born in Devon in 1912, reared by a farm boy, is sold to the army, goes to war, is involved in war. The horses are life-size puppets. There are 2 main horses – Joey and Topthorn. Each is operated by 3 puppeteers, 2 underneath - 1 operating front legs and 1 operating hind legs both supporting a frame with a skin over it and sometimes ridden by an actor. The 3rd puppeteer operates the neck and head and makes most of the horse-like movements At first I was a little aware of the puppeteers, but very quickly I just watched the horse. The ears twitched, the body moved, he quivered – all sorts of lifelife movements. I was sitting in the third row, very close to the stage. I felt quite involved. The play showed how futile horses were against barbed wire and tanks. I was sitting next to a couple from Hobart. She was clasping her hands when Joey was leading a charge into enemy guns, starting at gun shots, etc like me.
The live actors were god too.
The live actors were god too.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Tuesday – Museum of Natural History and Central Park
This morning I went to the Museum of Natural History. It is huge and it is impossible to take in all the exhibits in 1 visit. I thought I would concentrate on North American stuff and skip the stars, origins of life, rocks, asian animals etc etc. My ticket gave me entrance to a half hour show in their new Planetarium. I listened and looked up for 5 minutes or so when I realised my neck was stiff. The next thing I knew the voice was talking about brown dwarfs and finishing up. Ah well, as long as I donot fall asleep tonight in the performance of War Horse. I wandered round the North American animals for ages. They claim the Alaskan Brown bear is the largest living carnivore weighing up to 1600 lbs.. I had never heard of cacomistles before – similar to a skunk. Female armadillos always give birth to identical quadruplets. Good trivia questions.
I then wandered around the section on Northwest Coast Indians. There were some interesting displays of their weaving, clothes, armour, jewelry. By the time I got to the section on the environment of New York State I was getting tired. There were huge numbers of groups of school kids and the noise was quite overpowering. I wandered through a few more exhibits, but mainly to find my way out.
I had lunch at a place, Shake Shack , that had been recommended to me as having the best hamburgers around and what they call concrete – like a frozen custard. Apparently some guy had a food van in Madison Square Park in 2004, made good fresh hamburgers with good beef and his business grew. There are now 7 in NYC, some in about 7 other USA cities and 1 in Dubai. As far as I could tell it is like an upmarket MacDonalds. But maybe that is because I donot care for the soft, sweetish buns they use. The concrete tasted like what it is– frozen custard .
I then went on a walk all around the southern part of Central Park. There are lots of different areas – formal areas with ponds, fountains, paved walkways and lakes with row boats, informal areas with large rock outcrops , almost overgrown bush areas..
Tonight I am going to the play of War Horse.
I then wandered around the section on Northwest Coast Indians. There were some interesting displays of their weaving, clothes, armour, jewelry. By the time I got to the section on the environment of New York State I was getting tired. There were huge numbers of groups of school kids and the noise was quite overpowering. I wandered through a few more exhibits, but mainly to find my way out.
I had lunch at a place, Shake Shack , that had been recommended to me as having the best hamburgers around and what they call concrete – like a frozen custard. Apparently some guy had a food van in Madison Square Park in 2004, made good fresh hamburgers with good beef and his business grew. There are now 7 in NYC, some in about 7 other USA cities and 1 in Dubai. As far as I could tell it is like an upmarket MacDonalds. But maybe that is because I donot care for the soft, sweetish buns they use. The concrete tasted like what it is– frozen custard .
I then went on a walk all around the southern part of Central Park. There are lots of different areas – formal areas with ponds, fountains, paved walkways and lakes with row boats, informal areas with large rock outcrops , almost overgrown bush areas..
Tonight I am going to the play of War Horse.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Monday - Library , NY bagel and a few frustrations
First thing this morning, I had another go at finding information from the US Postal Office around the corner. Once again the staff member who talked to me was rude, hard to understand and unhelpful. I had been warned by several people that they have a bad reputation. I had taken a plastic bag with a book and the icebreaker pants in it and wanted to know the price to send it to Australia. She said I should have looked it up on the internet – well I had and there were far too many choices with not enough info to choose between. She told me the price and then I asked what if it was double the weight. She was unable to tell me – I think her system was so automated that that enquiry was too much for her. Then she started telling me I was taking up too much time and there were other people waiting. I turned round and one of the people behind me rolled her eyes at the US postal woman and said to me it was fine. Then I bought some stamps for postcards. I asked if I needed air mail stickers. ‘Of course not’ she replied. There is, on very close inspection, a small aeroplane on the stamp. I set off up the street intending on having a cup of coffee at a café I had seen previously on my way to another postal company. The coffee shop was too crowded when I passed, the other postal service said they only send express ( the USPS was going to cost $28 and they quoted $110 for 3 days – obviously not appropriate), I walked back down the street and the coffee shop queue was out the door – longer than before – never mind I went to one of the 2 that I alternate between.
I caught the subway to near the main New York Library and walked to Greenacre park . I had read about this place and was curious. It is another like others I have seen that is surrounded by tall skyscrapers. It is small, has a waterfall, trees, tables and chairs, all paved, pots of brightly flowering plants. There was a sign saying no photos. I can understand if people are there that taking photos is discouraged but noone else was there – it was cold and drizzly. I went to take a photo and was told off by a watcher who I had not seen. Bother.
I walked a different way back to the library and then wandered around the different rooms that were available to the public. In one foyer area there were 4 murals depicting the progress of the written word. The first was Moses carrying a stone tablet with writing on it – 10 commandments, the second was a medieval scribe painstakingly copying out a book , the third showed Guttenberg and his printing press and the fourth showed Ottmar Mergenthaler, the guy who invented linotype.
I then caught the subway to the edge of the Lower East Side with the sole purpose of buying myself a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel from Russ and Daughters, one of the famous NY delis, except it is not strictly speaking a deli because it does not sell meat. The official name used to be ‘Appetizer’ for stores that were like delis but did not serve meat. Not sure about now. Once again a minor frustration. For every choice I had to make – I asked for his suggestion. I ended up with Norwegian smoked salmon and I should have thought – that is what I eat at home if the Tasmanian salmon is too close to its use by date. It was delicious all the same. I sat on the chair outside the shop and watched the world go past. Then I walked a different route through Nolita and Soho to a subway that one of my 2 lines stopped at.
I stopped at the Lincoln Centre the complex of several buildings – different sized performance spaces. - where I saw the opera last Wednesday and where there are 2 Chagall paintings on the second story. They are designed to be viewed from outside, but there are currently some hanging advertisements obscuring them. I asked a guard how to get up to the balcony – he said I could not unless I was attending a performance. I asked if I brought my ticket stub from last Wednesday would he let me in? He said no. Then I tried the ‘I’ve come a long way’ line. That got me nowhere. Frustration number four.
I did have a nice coffee and fruit tart nearby. I caught the subway 2 stops rather than walk and got some dinner from Zabars. I hope that will be nice. I went into a shop that sold book readers. I thought they might have a cover for Tabatha. They almost fitted, but not quite. I got home and realised that I must have left my plastic bag with the items to be posted in the coffee shop. I went and got it, came home and remembered that I wanted to get some money today. Back out again. More stairs. Frustrations 5 and 6. But I am still smiling and enjoying myself.
I caught the subway to near the main New York Library and walked to Greenacre park . I had read about this place and was curious. It is another like others I have seen that is surrounded by tall skyscrapers. It is small, has a waterfall, trees, tables and chairs, all paved, pots of brightly flowering plants. There was a sign saying no photos. I can understand if people are there that taking photos is discouraged but noone else was there – it was cold and drizzly. I went to take a photo and was told off by a watcher who I had not seen. Bother.
I walked a different way back to the library and then wandered around the different rooms that were available to the public. In one foyer area there were 4 murals depicting the progress of the written word. The first was Moses carrying a stone tablet with writing on it – 10 commandments, the second was a medieval scribe painstakingly copying out a book , the third showed Guttenberg and his printing press and the fourth showed Ottmar Mergenthaler, the guy who invented linotype.
I then caught the subway to the edge of the Lower East Side with the sole purpose of buying myself a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel from Russ and Daughters, one of the famous NY delis, except it is not strictly speaking a deli because it does not sell meat. The official name used to be ‘Appetizer’ for stores that were like delis but did not serve meat. Not sure about now. Once again a minor frustration. For every choice I had to make – I asked for his suggestion. I ended up with Norwegian smoked salmon and I should have thought – that is what I eat at home if the Tasmanian salmon is too close to its use by date. It was delicious all the same. I sat on the chair outside the shop and watched the world go past. Then I walked a different route through Nolita and Soho to a subway that one of my 2 lines stopped at.
I stopped at the Lincoln Centre the complex of several buildings – different sized performance spaces. - where I saw the opera last Wednesday and where there are 2 Chagall paintings on the second story. They are designed to be viewed from outside, but there are currently some hanging advertisements obscuring them. I asked a guard how to get up to the balcony – he said I could not unless I was attending a performance. I asked if I brought my ticket stub from last Wednesday would he let me in? He said no. Then I tried the ‘I’ve come a long way’ line. That got me nowhere. Frustration number four.
I did have a nice coffee and fruit tart nearby. I caught the subway 2 stops rather than walk and got some dinner from Zabars. I hope that will be nice. I went into a shop that sold book readers. I thought they might have a cover for Tabatha. They almost fitted, but not quite. I got home and realised that I must have left my plastic bag with the items to be posted in the coffee shop. I went and got it, came home and remembered that I wanted to get some money today. Back out again. More stairs. Frustrations 5 and 6. But I am still smiling and enjoying myself.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Sunday – Day of rest
I went to bed on Saturday night with no clear plan for today, other than Susan, the owner, had invited me for coffee at 10.30. It is unusual for me not to have a plan. I woke up – turned over- and thought – no sights, no museums, more sleep. Later, I went to get some breakfast supplies and a NY Times. It was cold and drizzly and grey all day. Yesterday I had rewritten my ‘must-do’ and ‘like-to-do’ list. The ‘like-to-do’ list was far too long and I talked to Susan about the places on the list and was able to cull it a bit. She also was able to suggest local places to try some of the iconic NY foods that I have yet to try. We talked about NY, kids, opera – all sorts of things.
For lunch I went to a local old-style diner that Susan had suggested and had matzo ball soup and new york cheesecake. On the way home I passed the wool shop that I went to previously. I spent an hour looking at patterns , talking to a man from a knitting group at the church , St Ann’s in Brooklyn that I had visited, talking to another lady who was learning to crotchet ( she was escaping her 20month old) and another lady who was not a competent knitter but had on an amazing felted scarf that she had made.
I have read a large part of the newspaper, planned my next few days, read my book, written a few emails, done some embroidery and will go to bed early. I need energy for all the things I want to see before I leave..
For lunch I went to a local old-style diner that Susan had suggested and had matzo ball soup and new york cheesecake. On the way home I passed the wool shop that I went to previously. I spent an hour looking at patterns , talking to a man from a knitting group at the church , St Ann’s in Brooklyn that I had visited, talking to another lady who was learning to crotchet ( she was escaping her 20month old) and another lady who was not a competent knitter but had on an amazing felted scarf that she had made.
I have read a large part of the newspaper, planned my next few days, read my book, written a few emails, done some embroidery and will go to bed early. I need energy for all the things I want to see before I leave..
Saturday – walking around southern Manhattan
In the morning I caught the train to Long Island City, the western most part of the borough of Queens, and met there, as arranged, the cousin of a friend. She showed me around the area – new waterside parks, demolition of old buildings, new apartment blocks, nice views of Manhattan. She lives in a block that has been built into and around the bottom half of an old building. There are old steel girders visible in the new brick work. Quite attractive.. Her apartment is lovely.
We went on the East River ferry to Wall St. Lovely weather and views. Wall St is in the southern part of Manhattan but used to be the barrier between the early Dutch settlers and the ‘natives’. – the wall It is now quite a funny little narrow street. Several apartment blocks have appeared since 2008 when several banks and businesses went bust. Like every New York neighbourhood, it is changing.
We walked to the start of Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan . That is not strictly correct. Everyone talks of NSEW ( as in Upper West Side, north of Houston) , but Manhattan, the long skinny bit of island , lies NE to SW. For the rest of the day we walked and talked , with photo stops and food stops. We followed Battery Park round to the west , looking at the new One World Trade Centre under construction ( my info is about 18months old and it could have changed it’s name) , a memorial to the potato famine in Ireland, several other monuments, parks being used by people, absurdly long queues of people waiting for the boat to Statten Island,, till it became the Hudson River Park. We had lunch at a place by the river with a view and a leaking roof.
Then we walked through Tribeca , through Chinatown, through Little Italy ( coffee/ tea and biscotti stop) , through Lower East Side ( looked at Katz’s deli - unpleasantly crowded and Russ and Daughters, - small, crowded but pleasant. I will go back for my bagel with lox and cream cheese) . We kept on walking ( and talking) through East Village and Gramercy Park and gave up at 23rd street. By walking through the areas one after an another , it was easy to see the differences between the areas. We caught the subway back to my area, had dinner at a nice Italian restaurant that had been recommended to me and then went our separate ways. It was a lovely day – great company and interesting sights.
We went on the East River ferry to Wall St. Lovely weather and views. Wall St is in the southern part of Manhattan but used to be the barrier between the early Dutch settlers and the ‘natives’. – the wall It is now quite a funny little narrow street. Several apartment blocks have appeared since 2008 when several banks and businesses went bust. Like every New York neighbourhood, it is changing.
We walked to the start of Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan . That is not strictly correct. Everyone talks of NSEW ( as in Upper West Side, north of Houston) , but Manhattan, the long skinny bit of island , lies NE to SW. For the rest of the day we walked and talked , with photo stops and food stops. We followed Battery Park round to the west , looking at the new One World Trade Centre under construction ( my info is about 18months old and it could have changed it’s name) , a memorial to the potato famine in Ireland, several other monuments, parks being used by people, absurdly long queues of people waiting for the boat to Statten Island,, till it became the Hudson River Park. We had lunch at a place by the river with a view and a leaking roof.
Then we walked through Tribeca , through Chinatown, through Little Italy ( coffee/ tea and biscotti stop) , through Lower East Side ( looked at Katz’s deli - unpleasantly crowded and Russ and Daughters, - small, crowded but pleasant. I will go back for my bagel with lox and cream cheese) . We kept on walking ( and talking) through East Village and Gramercy Park and gave up at 23rd street. By walking through the areas one after an another , it was easy to see the differences between the areas. We caught the subway back to my area, had dinner at a nice Italian restaurant that had been recommended to me and then went our separate ways. It was a lovely day – great company and interesting sights.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Friday Guggenheim
Firstly I forgot to say something about the Brooklyn Bridge. It is not just any old bridge. In the 3 different lists of the top 10 things to do in NY that I have, ‘walk across Brooklyn Bridge’ appears in them all. It was the world’s first steel suspension bridge. When it opened in 1883, the 1596ft span between the 2 support towers was the longest in history.
This morning I went for the 3rd time to the new place , Gastronomie, for my coffee and croissant. The young guy who served me when I sat in te café on my first visit asked how the opera was . I was his only customer on my first visit. This morning he was on duty in the front part where I got my coffee and croissant – I was certainly not his only customer but he kept asking questions and we talked between customers. He had been an extra – a soldier, in a previous Met performance of Aida. I said I had seen Aida in Verona last year. He immediately asked ‘with elephants?’ Apparently the horses were very difficult to control backstage at the Met!
I walked a different way through Central Park to the Upper East Side and walked straight into the Guggenheim. The building was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and finished in 1959. It is very modern and stands out amongst the statuesque apartment buildings surrounding it. Solomon Guggenheim , who died in 1949, collected a whole lot of modern paintings and the building was purpose designed to house them. There is a large internal space and a spiral ramp that goes upwards with galleries coming of it. I was a bit disappointed though. Most of the space is taken up with exhibitions and only 1 gallery has items from the permanent collection. I was not taken by the weird photos in 1 exhibition, nor the Kandinsky paintings in another. There were ‘sculptures’ by an American John Chamberlain that were vaguely OK. He started in the late 1950’s making 3D objects out of smashed up old cars.
I know I said I would not talk about food but lunch was noteworthy on several counts. I had been recommended the Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station and had been told that Grand Central Station was an interesting building. I sat at a free spot at the bar and was given a huge menu that meant very little to me – about 12 different types of oyster, just with a price per piece, all sorts of fish dishes, dishes with clams, A guy a few empty seats arrived soon after me, but ordered first. I asked how big the Manhattan Clam Chowder was ( lots of places have 2 sizes of soup). She said just a moment and went and got his , brought it to show me, then gave it to him. He heard me talking to the waitress and asked if I was from Australia or New Zealand. Most people haven’t a clue.. He had another dish and I asked what it was – a crab salad not on the menu. He said’I haven’t touched it, would you like to try?’ I ordered some chowder. It was nice, but nothing to write home about. (says me, writing about it) I saw several people getting plates with half a dozen oysters. I told the very helpful waitress that I would like to try some oysters but did not have a clue which ones and was there a minimum. She said how about I get you 3 different ones. Excellent. She brought me 1 Bluepoint, 1 Fire Island, and 1 Peconic Pearl, all from Long Island. I preferred the Bluepoint. I rounded her tip up.
The building itself it lovely. Sort of calming, even though there were large numbers pf people milling around. It has a huge empty space with balconies all around which you can look down on the people from. There is a vaulted ceiling painted blue with constellations across it. One book I have says the artist must have been dyslexic, another says it was deliberately painted from God's perspective - the other side of the stars. The building was finished in 1913.
I have bought a few postcards, but have decided that I will not spend any of my precious time in New York writing them. I will sit on the verandah of the B and B at Martha’s vineyard and write postcards.
This morning I went for the 3rd time to the new place , Gastronomie, for my coffee and croissant. The young guy who served me when I sat in te café on my first visit asked how the opera was . I was his only customer on my first visit. This morning he was on duty in the front part where I got my coffee and croissant – I was certainly not his only customer but he kept asking questions and we talked between customers. He had been an extra – a soldier, in a previous Met performance of Aida. I said I had seen Aida in Verona last year. He immediately asked ‘with elephants?’ Apparently the horses were very difficult to control backstage at the Met!
I walked a different way through Central Park to the Upper East Side and walked straight into the Guggenheim. The building was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and finished in 1959. It is very modern and stands out amongst the statuesque apartment buildings surrounding it. Solomon Guggenheim , who died in 1949, collected a whole lot of modern paintings and the building was purpose designed to house them. There is a large internal space and a spiral ramp that goes upwards with galleries coming of it. I was a bit disappointed though. Most of the space is taken up with exhibitions and only 1 gallery has items from the permanent collection. I was not taken by the weird photos in 1 exhibition, nor the Kandinsky paintings in another. There were ‘sculptures’ by an American John Chamberlain that were vaguely OK. He started in the late 1950’s making 3D objects out of smashed up old cars.
I know I said I would not talk about food but lunch was noteworthy on several counts. I had been recommended the Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station and had been told that Grand Central Station was an interesting building. I sat at a free spot at the bar and was given a huge menu that meant very little to me – about 12 different types of oyster, just with a price per piece, all sorts of fish dishes, dishes with clams, A guy a few empty seats arrived soon after me, but ordered first. I asked how big the Manhattan Clam Chowder was ( lots of places have 2 sizes of soup). She said just a moment and went and got his , brought it to show me, then gave it to him. He heard me talking to the waitress and asked if I was from Australia or New Zealand. Most people haven’t a clue.. He had another dish and I asked what it was – a crab salad not on the menu. He said’I haven’t touched it, would you like to try?’ I ordered some chowder. It was nice, but nothing to write home about. (says me, writing about it) I saw several people getting plates with half a dozen oysters. I told the very helpful waitress that I would like to try some oysters but did not have a clue which ones and was there a minimum. She said how about I get you 3 different ones. Excellent. She brought me 1 Bluepoint, 1 Fire Island, and 1 Peconic Pearl, all from Long Island. I preferred the Bluepoint. I rounded her tip up.
The building itself it lovely. Sort of calming, even though there were large numbers pf people milling around. It has a huge empty space with balconies all around which you can look down on the people from. There is a vaulted ceiling painted blue with constellations across it. One book I have says the artist must have been dyslexic, another says it was deliberately painted from God's perspective - the other side of the stars. The building was finished in 1913.
I have bought a few postcards, but have decided that I will not spend any of my precious time in New York writing them. I will sit on the verandah of the B and B at Martha’s vineyard and write postcards.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Thursday – Brooklyn Heights
After some delicious scrambled eggs with salmon and cream cheese mixed in ( it was recommended to me by the owners and it would be rude not to try – I think I have used that excuse before ) I went to Brooklyn by train. The area at the end of the Brooklyn bridge is called Brooklyn heights and is described as the historic part. I wandered round some streets and it felt a lot like here – the Upper West Side – but quieter. I looked at a church called The Plymouth Church of the Pilgrims, built in the mid 1800’s. It was famous as the base for Thomas Ward Beecher who was a prominent abolitionist and campaigner for women’s rights. The church was part of the Underground Railroad. I walked along what is called the Brooklyn Heights Esplanade. It goes along the waterfront in front of the very fancy old houses but quite a few meters above the water.
I sat at a long table in Le Pain Quotidien ( a chain of nice café/ bakeries) and got talking to the 3 single woman nearby. Apparently this place opened about a week ago. There was much talk why in the last few years quite a few cafes had come and gone. Someone made a comment about the ones that women frequent. One of the woman said that all the men are in Starbucks. I replied that they were all old. One of the other women said the younger ones are inside. I have often seen older men sitting in the windows of Starbucks. The other 3 woman would all have been in their 60’s. Not old! The conversation for the next hour or so covered rent control, tablets, renting apartments for vacations, salaries of teachers etc etc. I was there for about 1 ½ hours. One of the women , whose name was Susan and had shoulder-length grey hair, thought that Brooklyn Heights and UWS were the only 2 areas in New York where people thought about important issues and were interested in the outside world.
I looked at another old – 1840’s - church. St Ann and the Holy Trinity. It has many stained glass windows – 3 rows of them along the walls. Most are thought to be the oldest American made stained glass windows. It has lots of community activities including a monthly Sat afternoon invitation to knitters to join them for conversation while making things for a seaman’s welfare organsation and regular organ recitals
The walk back to Manhattan over the Brooklyn bridge was quite spectacular.
I had another nice dinner at a different local – same block – restaurant. I had scallops ( I had seen in the fish market that they are not as expensive relative to other seafood as they are in Australia) and a glass of cabernet franc – not because it went with the scallops but because it was the only American wine out of the 8 wines-by-the glass. I think that I write too much about where I eat and it might seem that I am overly concerned with eating nice things .
Some unrelated things .
Twice I have had nutmeg on my morning cappuccino – not to my taste and I must remember to ask to no have it.
I have seen far more people than in Australia asking questions about the food and asking for modifications of the dishes.
OOPs – both food.
I sat at a long table in Le Pain Quotidien ( a chain of nice café/ bakeries) and got talking to the 3 single woman nearby. Apparently this place opened about a week ago. There was much talk why in the last few years quite a few cafes had come and gone. Someone made a comment about the ones that women frequent. One of the woman said that all the men are in Starbucks. I replied that they were all old. One of the other women said the younger ones are inside. I have often seen older men sitting in the windows of Starbucks. The other 3 woman would all have been in their 60’s. Not old! The conversation for the next hour or so covered rent control, tablets, renting apartments for vacations, salaries of teachers etc etc. I was there for about 1 ½ hours. One of the women , whose name was Susan and had shoulder-length grey hair, thought that Brooklyn Heights and UWS were the only 2 areas in New York where people thought about important issues and were interested in the outside world.
I looked at another old – 1840’s - church. St Ann and the Holy Trinity. It has many stained glass windows – 3 rows of them along the walls. Most are thought to be the oldest American made stained glass windows. It has lots of community activities including a monthly Sat afternoon invitation to knitters to join them for conversation while making things for a seaman’s welfare organsation and regular organ recitals
The walk back to Manhattan over the Brooklyn bridge was quite spectacular.
I had another nice dinner at a different local – same block – restaurant. I had scallops ( I had seen in the fish market that they are not as expensive relative to other seafood as they are in Australia) and a glass of cabernet franc – not because it went with the scallops but because it was the only American wine out of the 8 wines-by-the glass. I think that I write too much about where I eat and it might seem that I am overly concerned with eating nice things .
Some unrelated things .
Twice I have had nutmeg on my morning cappuccino – not to my taste and I must remember to ask to no have it.
I have seen far more people than in Australia asking questions about the food and asking for modifications of the dishes.
OOPs – both food.
Wednesday - Met Museum and Met Opera
Funny word Metropolitan.
I enjoyed walking a different route through Central Park to the Met Museum of Art. I got there, like I always do, a bit before it opens. I got though the bag check, got my clip on badge and audio tour and went straight to a far gallery in the European section where there were some paintings by Caravaggio. I knew of 2, but there were 4. The one I liked best was Peter’s Denial of Christ. There was a lady pointing out Peter to a soldier and Peter’s troubled face was so clearly saying ‘ No, not me’ . I spent a while, reading my notes, looking at the paintings, listening to the audio guide and the extra info on the guide. Noone else was there, other than the attendant who was watching over 2 other galleries as well.
Then I walked through the modern section looking for the 2 Chagall paintings that I was told was there but I could not find them. I will go back. There is a relatively new 3 American wing with 3 floors that I thought I would concentrate on. The top and bottom levels have mainly furniture and recreated rooms of particular periods. The first was a room from a Massachusetts farm house of 1860, then several rooms showing the Dutch influence. There was an interesting Shaker room of 1830 and what was called Renaissance revival room of 1870 – about as far apart as you could get in style. The commentary talked about the furniture and how the families lived. The last, on the ground floor was a large recreation of a room that Frank Lloyd Wright designed for a farmhouse in Minnesota in 1907. It was a large rectangular room and he had windows along both long sides. In the museum, 1 side looked out onto the garden. Apparently he designed all the furniture and furnishings.
Then I went to look at the paintings, concentrating on works that showed how people lived. There was a portrait of a family in a Renaissance revival room , a few farm paintings, a painting with native Americans – is that the pc term now? All were interesting.
I had a choice for lunch between 3 places – 1 sold only sandwiches, the 2nd was described as a cafeteria and was underground, and the 3rd was a nice place with a pleasant view of Central Park. I eliminated the first - I did not want a sandwich and then I was pleased with myself for instantly ruling out the cafeteria – too noisy and crowded. 2 years ago I would have had difficulty feeling I should save money and go to the cafeteria. I am learning to ski quite well. I had a nice meal including a glass of merlot from Long Island. When I went to dinner on Monday night, we had a cocktail, and there the cocktails were a similar price to a glass of wine. I have been looking since then and that has consistently been the case. Even fairly ordinary places have cocktail lists. The bill at the museum restaurant had another variation of ‘How to get a tip out of a foreigner’ . It had printed on the bottom : ‘ For your convenience, suggested gratuities are calculated below’ Then it listed 15%, 18% and 20% of my bill. They didnot get 20% from me because I didnot get my wine till after my pasta arrived.
I walked back a longer way through Central Park, past a peaceful lake with a boathouse and some people rowing boats, more statues, and a special area called Strawberry Fields, just inside the park from where John Lennon was shot. I met a volunteer who I got talking to. Amongst other things we talked about single women and she had done a research project on women in casinos. Apparently one of her subjects – not the right word, but I cannot think – said to her ‘ Where else can a single woman go for a drink at 3am?’
I had some biscuits and cheese (goats from Zabar’s) and then went to the opera. It was fabulous, I thought. A modern setting of La Traviata. Everything was black or white except Violetta’s red dress. Except when they were in the country - they had very flowery dressing gowns on and flowery material draped over the furniture. There were 3 women next to me who hardly clapped at all. I heard 1 saying that she did not like modern settings – she would not like John Bell. They did not even clap after some amazing singing. The whole experience was great – I even liked the glitter and glitz in the theatre. No photos allowed, though. Just before we sat down we got given a programme – A5 size and not quite a glitzy as they have become in Australia.
After the performance, many of the attendees went down to the subway. There was a saxophonist playing excerpts from the opera – but on a different platform to me. I might even have been tempted to give him something. Walking back from the subway stop nearest to me it started to drizzle and a lady near me offered to share her umbrella with me. We chatted for several blocks till our paths diverged. A pleasant end to a lovely evening.
I enjoyed walking a different route through Central Park to the Met Museum of Art. I got there, like I always do, a bit before it opens. I got though the bag check, got my clip on badge and audio tour and went straight to a far gallery in the European section where there were some paintings by Caravaggio. I knew of 2, but there were 4. The one I liked best was Peter’s Denial of Christ. There was a lady pointing out Peter to a soldier and Peter’s troubled face was so clearly saying ‘ No, not me’ . I spent a while, reading my notes, looking at the paintings, listening to the audio guide and the extra info on the guide. Noone else was there, other than the attendant who was watching over 2 other galleries as well.
Then I walked through the modern section looking for the 2 Chagall paintings that I was told was there but I could not find them. I will go back. There is a relatively new 3 American wing with 3 floors that I thought I would concentrate on. The top and bottom levels have mainly furniture and recreated rooms of particular periods. The first was a room from a Massachusetts farm house of 1860, then several rooms showing the Dutch influence. There was an interesting Shaker room of 1830 and what was called Renaissance revival room of 1870 – about as far apart as you could get in style. The commentary talked about the furniture and how the families lived. The last, on the ground floor was a large recreation of a room that Frank Lloyd Wright designed for a farmhouse in Minnesota in 1907. It was a large rectangular room and he had windows along both long sides. In the museum, 1 side looked out onto the garden. Apparently he designed all the furniture and furnishings.
Then I went to look at the paintings, concentrating on works that showed how people lived. There was a portrait of a family in a Renaissance revival room , a few farm paintings, a painting with native Americans – is that the pc term now? All were interesting.
I had a choice for lunch between 3 places – 1 sold only sandwiches, the 2nd was described as a cafeteria and was underground, and the 3rd was a nice place with a pleasant view of Central Park. I eliminated the first - I did not want a sandwich and then I was pleased with myself for instantly ruling out the cafeteria – too noisy and crowded. 2 years ago I would have had difficulty feeling I should save money and go to the cafeteria. I am learning to ski quite well. I had a nice meal including a glass of merlot from Long Island. When I went to dinner on Monday night, we had a cocktail, and there the cocktails were a similar price to a glass of wine. I have been looking since then and that has consistently been the case. Even fairly ordinary places have cocktail lists. The bill at the museum restaurant had another variation of ‘How to get a tip out of a foreigner’ . It had printed on the bottom : ‘ For your convenience, suggested gratuities are calculated below’ Then it listed 15%, 18% and 20% of my bill. They didnot get 20% from me because I didnot get my wine till after my pasta arrived.
I walked back a longer way through Central Park, past a peaceful lake with a boathouse and some people rowing boats, more statues, and a special area called Strawberry Fields, just inside the park from where John Lennon was shot. I met a volunteer who I got talking to. Amongst other things we talked about single women and she had done a research project on women in casinos. Apparently one of her subjects – not the right word, but I cannot think – said to her ‘ Where else can a single woman go for a drink at 3am?’
I had some biscuits and cheese (goats from Zabar’s) and then went to the opera. It was fabulous, I thought. A modern setting of La Traviata. Everything was black or white except Violetta’s red dress. Except when they were in the country - they had very flowery dressing gowns on and flowery material draped over the furniture. There were 3 women next to me who hardly clapped at all. I heard 1 saying that she did not like modern settings – she would not like John Bell. They did not even clap after some amazing singing. The whole experience was great – I even liked the glitter and glitz in the theatre. No photos allowed, though. Just before we sat down we got given a programme – A5 size and not quite a glitzy as they have become in Australia.
After the performance, many of the attendees went down to the subway. There was a saxophonist playing excerpts from the opera – but on a different platform to me. I might even have been tempted to give him something. Walking back from the subway stop nearest to me it started to drizzle and a lady near me offered to share her umbrella with me. We chatted for several blocks till our paths diverged. A pleasant end to a lovely evening.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tues - Empire State Building, High Line, Circle Line and more
I arrived at the queue to get into the Empire State Building about 10 minutes before it opened at 8am. I walked straight in – the queue moved quickly but judging on the large areas of roped waiting rows, other times of the day are far more crowded. The audio guide was interesting, describing the buildings, parks, historical info etc. . Later I went to the Chelsea markets again. The day before I had seen a large seafood shop that sold rolls, prepared salads as well as raw stuff. They had , eg, oysters from 10 different places. I had 3 little brioche-style rolls, 1 filled with a lobster mixture, 1 crab and 1 shrimp.
Next I walked along the High Line again. The views were different in the day. It was great to see so many locals enjoying the space. I kept on walking north to 42nd street and the pier of a commercial ferry that goes round the island. I did not know how big the boat was and wanted to get a good seat so as soon as the queue started to form I joined it. I stood in the sun for about ¾ hour. I had worn my hat walking along the High Line and did not see any other female wearing a hat. It was quite a hot day. I was the only female in the queue with a hat on. The trip was really interesting. It took almost 3 hours. The guy giving the commentary was good – lots of info and a good sense of humour.
The boat trip finished at 6pm. My plan was to get a bus and then subway to the Lincoln Centre where the Met Opera is and have a drink and a bit of food watching the people arrive – Manon was being performed. No bus came, so I walked and stopped at a Diner and sat in a booth. I have now been to another establishment that I associate with USA. Soup and a glass of wine was significantly cheaper there than I would have paid near the Opera.
I got out of the subway right near the Lincoln Centre and saw a group of 6 policemen, all in heavy protective clothing and 3 with large guns – what I used to call sub-machine guns, but I’m sure they is a more correct term. Subversive lot are opera goers.
Unfortunately the fountain in the forecourt of the Opera building was just dribbling, not spouting high up like in the pictures. I sat on a wall on the edge and watched the people arrive, mill around and go in. I was sitting between a guy in his early 20’s and a woman in her early 60’s. The guy had a jacket over his jeans. I reckon 80% of the men wore jackets. I was surprised at how little colour there was in the women’s clothes. About 80% had black or other quite dark colour slacks and a fancy jacket of varying shades of grey. The lady next to me had beautifully cut slacks, flat interesting shoes, a dark brown jacket with interesting stitching, shoulder length grey hair and seemed on her own. That reminds me – never once , when I have arrived at a restaurant , have I heard ‘Is it just/only for 1 / you?’ I do not like ‘just’ or ‘only’. Anyway, after everyone went in I went into the shop. There were some beautiful things. I satisfied myself with a postcard for a Dendy-opera-going friend in Brisbane. I had satisfied myself that my black slacks, black top ( noone at the opera will know or care that it doubles as my pj top) and scarf will blend in. The red jacket less so. Pity about the granny shoes.
Some random things :
Every toilet in a café that I have seen has had a sign saying ‘Employees must wash their hands before returning to work.” They need to be told?
Police cars have different sirens for different tings. A small gentle pip, like a sick animal might make, is a little warning. 2 pips a bigger warning or ‘move over’. Very rarely have a heard the full sirens. The fire department trucks sound like semi-trailers changing gears.
Next I walked along the High Line again. The views were different in the day. It was great to see so many locals enjoying the space. I kept on walking north to 42nd street and the pier of a commercial ferry that goes round the island. I did not know how big the boat was and wanted to get a good seat so as soon as the queue started to form I joined it. I stood in the sun for about ¾ hour. I had worn my hat walking along the High Line and did not see any other female wearing a hat. It was quite a hot day. I was the only female in the queue with a hat on. The trip was really interesting. It took almost 3 hours. The guy giving the commentary was good – lots of info and a good sense of humour.
The boat trip finished at 6pm. My plan was to get a bus and then subway to the Lincoln Centre where the Met Opera is and have a drink and a bit of food watching the people arrive – Manon was being performed. No bus came, so I walked and stopped at a Diner and sat in a booth. I have now been to another establishment that I associate with USA. Soup and a glass of wine was significantly cheaper there than I would have paid near the Opera.
I got out of the subway right near the Lincoln Centre and saw a group of 6 policemen, all in heavy protective clothing and 3 with large guns – what I used to call sub-machine guns, but I’m sure they is a more correct term. Subversive lot are opera goers.
Unfortunately the fountain in the forecourt of the Opera building was just dribbling, not spouting high up like in the pictures. I sat on a wall on the edge and watched the people arrive, mill around and go in. I was sitting between a guy in his early 20’s and a woman in her early 60’s. The guy had a jacket over his jeans. I reckon 80% of the men wore jackets. I was surprised at how little colour there was in the women’s clothes. About 80% had black or other quite dark colour slacks and a fancy jacket of varying shades of grey. The lady next to me had beautifully cut slacks, flat interesting shoes, a dark brown jacket with interesting stitching, shoulder length grey hair and seemed on her own. That reminds me – never once , when I have arrived at a restaurant , have I heard ‘Is it just/only for 1 / you?’ I do not like ‘just’ or ‘only’. Anyway, after everyone went in I went into the shop. There were some beautiful things. I satisfied myself with a postcard for a Dendy-opera-going friend in Brisbane. I had satisfied myself that my black slacks, black top ( noone at the opera will know or care that it doubles as my pj top) and scarf will blend in. The red jacket less so. Pity about the granny shoes.
Some random things :
Every toilet in a café that I have seen has had a sign saying ‘Employees must wash their hands before returning to work.” They need to be told?
Police cars have different sirens for different tings. A small gentle pip, like a sick animal might make, is a little warning. 2 pips a bigger warning or ‘move over’. Very rarely have a heard the full sirens. The fire department trucks sound like semi-trailers changing gears.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
MoMA on Monday
There is a shop in the next block – deli in the front and café in the back that opened 3 weeks ago. I went there for breakfast this morning. I had what was described as ‘Sweet Potato Biscuit Sandwich’ . Sweet potato bits had been put in the bread dough for the bun that was cut in half sandwiching scrambled esggs, nice cheese and turkey bacon. I had asked about turkey bacon and was told it was very thin slices of turkey, but it tasted like bacon. ??
Several days ago I saw a fancy shop only selling Ugg boots from Australia. This morning I saw a sign in a dry cleaners saying they specialised in cleaning Ugg Boots. Who cleans their ugg boots? I also saw a sign in the subway today which I copied into my little notebook because I knew I would not be able to remember it all. It was an advertisement for a legal firm that specialised in children’s injuries ( their word). Then it listed the following : cerebral palsy, development delay, autism, premature birth, seizure disorder, erbs palsy, lead paint poisoning and brain damage. I did not write the rest down, but it was something like ‘ We will help you get as much money as we can to help your child’ . From whom? I hate to think of how high doctor’s insurance must be.
I spent the morning in MoMA, the museum of modern Art. It is a lovely building – you can see different levels from vantage points in each level. My favourite paintings were Gustav Klimpt’s Hope II., and Marc Chagall ‘s I and the village. I remember being quite taken by a painting by him in the museum of Modern Art in Venice called A wandering Jew ( I now know why I put effort into this blog – I have just looked that name up) . I also liked a wall mural done by Diego Rivera, the Mexican painter when he was in NY from 1931 to 1932. That was at the height of the Great Depression when the rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer. It is in 3 levels – the top skyscrpers, the middle a large glass shed with sleeping workers side-byside squashed in on the floor and the bottom a vault with a few rich people counting their money. Quite a statement.
I had morning tea in one of the cafes. They added 10% to the bill, which I asked about. They said it was standard practice because many tourists did not know about tipping. The fine print on the docket said something that this gratuity was shared amongst all of the staff and you could always change the amount at any time before or upon final payment – but you donot get to read that till after you have paid.
After a few hours back in my studio I went to the West Village and walked through thee to Chelsea , pottered around a few streets and had a look at Chelsea market. In an old disused biscuit factory there are a whole lot of small specialty food shops. I was amused at the advertising of 1 cake shop. Apparently all their cakes and cupcakes are 3D. Do they think everyone else’s cakes are flat 2D?
I met, as arranged, the partner of the son of my friend Helen who I travelled in Italy with last year. She has lived in NY for a year and we had an enjoyable evening at a nice restaurant with delicious food. After dinner we walked along the high line - a disused elevated ( 3 story high) freight railway with good views of the lights of the buildings in New Jersey and in several places to the streets below. I had no qualms about walking home from the railway station at 10.30pm .
Several days ago I saw a fancy shop only selling Ugg boots from Australia. This morning I saw a sign in a dry cleaners saying they specialised in cleaning Ugg Boots. Who cleans their ugg boots? I also saw a sign in the subway today which I copied into my little notebook because I knew I would not be able to remember it all. It was an advertisement for a legal firm that specialised in children’s injuries ( their word). Then it listed the following : cerebral palsy, development delay, autism, premature birth, seizure disorder, erbs palsy, lead paint poisoning and brain damage. I did not write the rest down, but it was something like ‘ We will help you get as much money as we can to help your child’ . From whom? I hate to think of how high doctor’s insurance must be.
I spent the morning in MoMA, the museum of modern Art. It is a lovely building – you can see different levels from vantage points in each level. My favourite paintings were Gustav Klimpt’s Hope II., and Marc Chagall ‘s I and the village. I remember being quite taken by a painting by him in the museum of Modern Art in Venice called A wandering Jew ( I now know why I put effort into this blog – I have just looked that name up) . I also liked a wall mural done by Diego Rivera, the Mexican painter when he was in NY from 1931 to 1932. That was at the height of the Great Depression when the rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer. It is in 3 levels – the top skyscrpers, the middle a large glass shed with sleeping workers side-byside squashed in on the floor and the bottom a vault with a few rich people counting their money. Quite a statement.
I had morning tea in one of the cafes. They added 10% to the bill, which I asked about. They said it was standard practice because many tourists did not know about tipping. The fine print on the docket said something that this gratuity was shared amongst all of the staff and you could always change the amount at any time before or upon final payment – but you donot get to read that till after you have paid.
After a few hours back in my studio I went to the West Village and walked through thee to Chelsea , pottered around a few streets and had a look at Chelsea market. In an old disused biscuit factory there are a whole lot of small specialty food shops. I was amused at the advertising of 1 cake shop. Apparently all their cakes and cupcakes are 3D. Do they think everyone else’s cakes are flat 2D?
I met, as arranged, the partner of the son of my friend Helen who I travelled in Italy with last year. She has lived in NY for a year and we had an enjoyable evening at a nice restaurant with delicious food. After dinner we walked along the high line - a disused elevated ( 3 story high) freight railway with good views of the lights of the buildings in New Jersey and in several places to the streets below. I had no qualms about walking home from the railway station at 10.30pm .
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Sun April 15
I am still not sleeping properly. Very annoying. I gave up trying to get back to sleep after waking at 4 at about 6am. At about 7.30 I went off to the local farmer’s market – called a greenmarket here. Only a few stalls were starting to set up . Luckily there was a nearby coffee shop. I have only had one or 2 nice cups of coffee, but I will keep trying. I bought a few things to eat , put them into my fridge then caught the train to the Soho area. I spent the day following a guide books suggested walking route through West Village, Soho, Nolita and Little Italy. It was good . The areas are , in places, quite distinct, but in others one district merges into the adjacent one. I liked Nolita best. It did not have upmarket shops like Soho or large cafes, rather small quirky design shops and small cafes. The streets were smaller and cobbled and the buildings seemed to have a slightly more cared for feel. I wanted a stop and found some people waiting outside a café that was about to open , so I waited too and realised it was a bookshop. After my tea I spent ages browsing. It was large. McNally Jackson. A customer browsing in the children’s section told me of a children’s book about New York that her children love. We shall see if it appeals to non New Yorkers. I also found an outdoor shop with a large range of Icebreaker clothing. ( the brand of very fine lightweight pure merino clothing that I like) Far more than Paddy Pallins or any other shop in Canberra and cheaper. I bought some pants – like nice trackpants, but if my black wool pyjama top doubles as my top to wear to the opera ( well both are night attire) who knows what I will do with these pants. I also spent ages in a lovely wool shop – similar wool to the nearby one but they also had material.
There were quite a few interesting old buildings. One, the Cable Building, was uilt in 1894 and housed the power plant for the Brooklyn Cable Car – the first in the country. Another, made of cast iron was the Singer sewing machine factory. Another was the first structure to use the steam elevator developed by Elisha Otis.
I have been doing a fair bit of walking over the past 4 days and had had enough, so I came home. I got off the train at 79th street , thought only a few blocks to 82nd street as I groaned my way up the steps from the subway, set off, and was most disgruntled with myself when I looked up and saw 76th street. I had got out of the station at a different exit and had not paid enough attention and walked in the wrong direction. When I got back to 80th I went into Zabar’s, the famous deli. It is huge. I have never seen anything like it. It’s the shop Meg Ryan hides from Tom Hanks in in You’ve got Mail. As a consolation I bought myself some goats cheese, nice looking local ( Hudson Valley) yoghurt and 1 macaroon.
I have been doing my embroidery, doing sudokus on Tabatha, getting my photos up-to-date and now it is dinner and bed. That reminds me, Tabatha is proving very useful. I read the info about where I am going in a café or wherever I’ve stopped or sometimes, like in the Frick, I was able to read about different paintings as I was going around the gallery.
There were quite a few interesting old buildings. One, the Cable Building, was uilt in 1894 and housed the power plant for the Brooklyn Cable Car – the first in the country. Another, made of cast iron was the Singer sewing machine factory. Another was the first structure to use the steam elevator developed by Elisha Otis.
I have been doing a fair bit of walking over the past 4 days and had had enough, so I came home. I got off the train at 79th street , thought only a few blocks to 82nd street as I groaned my way up the steps from the subway, set off, and was most disgruntled with myself when I looked up and saw 76th street. I had got out of the station at a different exit and had not paid enough attention and walked in the wrong direction. When I got back to 80th I went into Zabar’s, the famous deli. It is huge. I have never seen anything like it. It’s the shop Meg Ryan hides from Tom Hanks in in You’ve got Mail. As a consolation I bought myself some goats cheese, nice looking local ( Hudson Valley) yoghurt and 1 macaroon.
I have been doing my embroidery, doing sudokus on Tabatha, getting my photos up-to-date and now it is dinner and bed. That reminds me, Tabatha is proving very useful. I read the info about where I am going in a café or wherever I’ve stopped or sometimes, like in the Frick, I was able to read about different paintings as I was going around the gallery.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Sat 14th April
This morning I woke early in order to get the subway to Penn Station to be there at the same time I have to be there in 2 weeks time to catch a train to Boston. I have a train ticket, but there is no way of reserving a particular seat. I found out this morning : they only display which track number the train is leaving from about 15 minutes before departure, at which point the many passengers who have been milling around rush to the appropriate gate , there is a nice enough looking bakery for breakfast, the toilets are clean.
I walked from there through the garment district to the main long-distance bus terminal. The streets were littered with rubbish. It was about 8:10 . I wanted something to eat and walked past 2 starbucks, 1 KFC, 1 McDonalds, 1 dunking donut, several Asian shops until I got to a passable bakery with a few tables. No cafes. Not an auspicious start to the day.
At the bus station my questions about the bus from Boston to Woods Hole were answered. The toilets were very unclean. You need to know this?
My next destination was Bryant Park which I had read about, next to the main library. By then it was about 9am and the street cleaners were all out and picking up, so maybe it was too early in the garment district. On the way I walked past a massive queue stretching several blocks of mainly young black men. The queue started at a movie theatre. I asked a guy who was watching the queue what was going on. Apparently some actors from an upcoming movie were coming and the people in the queue would get to file past them and get autographs. What fun. He did say the movie’s name, but I have forgotten – not surprising given the demographics.. I am learning the local lingo. Not only do I ask for the check and tip appropriately ( it is now 20%, fairly standard, in all restaurants and cafes) , but I said to this gentleman as I moved on ‘Have a good day’ (I cannot manage 'Have a nice day'). Quick as a flash he replied ‘You too, ma’am’ .
There are interesting light effects early in the morning with the rising sun shining on some, but not all of the skyscrapers. I would like to be a better photographer. I tried to take some photos of skyscrapers reflected in the shiny exterior of other skyscrapers.
Bryant Park is a lovely area, used by all sorts of groups, with a small oval, plants ,lots of paving and little round metal tables and chairs ( not bolted down) , some food kiosks. I sat down and started to read the New York Times I had bought. I wish I had waited to have my breakfast there, it was lovely. They have early morning tours to talk about the birds that live there. I walked from there to the main tourist bureau, and, third time lucky, it was open. Apparently the Muppets were visiting on Thursday. They are official NY abassadors to somewhere or maybe from somewhere to NY – I was struggling with the guys accent and lost the thread of why the muppets should disrupt the hundreds of tourists who must pass through that place daily. After the Muppets visit all their computers went down. Hence the second days closure. What did the Muppets do?
I set off in the direction of Central Railway station, stopped in at St Patricks Cathedral , was not in the mood, moved on to the Rockefeller buildings forecourt. I was not feeling brilliant – lack of sleep, lack of food and decided to come home and do nothing for the afternoon. That was easier said than done. I waited on the platform for ages and ages – about half an hour. I was on the platform at which B and D trains depart from. I wanted a B train – local, stopping at all stops . The D goes along most of the same line but skips a lot of stops ( including mine), until it gets to the Yankee stadium. There must have been a Yankee game on this afternoon, given the clothing of most of the people who were arriving at the platform. 3 D’s came along before my B – and I can understand the train scheduler’s logic.
I had a nice lunch on my way back to my studio. Next to the Italian café where my brain scrambled on Thursday morning is a French bistro. I went there for their $25 fixed price lunch. It was excellent value – a delicious onion and goat cheese tart, nice salmon and beans and then the highlight – a lemon tart. But – another muddle- one of the menu choices was ravioli du jour and most of the wait staff were Spanish . I have been looking at the wine lists of lots of places looking for North American wines with little success. There were none on the menu today, so I asked whether he had any. He produced a chardonnay from the Carneros area of the Napa Valley. It was not particularly to my taste, but I drank it. As far as I have seen wine by the glass is consistently more expensive relative to the food than in Australia. The glass today was $10 – the lower end of what I have seen.
I have spent some lovely relaxing time this afternoon sitting in my window seat , doing some embroidery, watching the passing parade of locals – many going for a walk, cycle, jog in Central Park I surmise by their clothing.
PS
Yesterday with my crabcake on the plate was ½ lemon tied up in a bright yellow bit of gauze material. I asked what it was and was told it is so I did not get pulp on my crabcake. I thought – I’d rather pulp than that garish dye, but said nothing.
Yesterday , with the salad that came with my tofu and veg curry in the evening was chip-size pieces of a vegetable I did not know. – jicama. It is otherwise known as Mexican yam or Mexican turnip. It is the fruit of a vine, eaten raw and did taste a bit like a turnip.
Yesterday I passed a lovely little ‘urban park’ in between 2 skyscrapers. There was a paved area, tables, chairs , a waterfall ( excellent at providing background noise so you did not notice the car noises) , murals, plants in pots.. I passed another today, this one with a clear roof through which you could see the neighbouring skyscrpers.
I walked from there through the garment district to the main long-distance bus terminal. The streets were littered with rubbish. It was about 8:10 . I wanted something to eat and walked past 2 starbucks, 1 KFC, 1 McDonalds, 1 dunking donut, several Asian shops until I got to a passable bakery with a few tables. No cafes. Not an auspicious start to the day.
At the bus station my questions about the bus from Boston to Woods Hole were answered. The toilets were very unclean. You need to know this?
My next destination was Bryant Park which I had read about, next to the main library. By then it was about 9am and the street cleaners were all out and picking up, so maybe it was too early in the garment district. On the way I walked past a massive queue stretching several blocks of mainly young black men. The queue started at a movie theatre. I asked a guy who was watching the queue what was going on. Apparently some actors from an upcoming movie were coming and the people in the queue would get to file past them and get autographs. What fun. He did say the movie’s name, but I have forgotten – not surprising given the demographics.. I am learning the local lingo. Not only do I ask for the check and tip appropriately ( it is now 20%, fairly standard, in all restaurants and cafes) , but I said to this gentleman as I moved on ‘Have a good day’ (I cannot manage 'Have a nice day'). Quick as a flash he replied ‘You too, ma’am’ .
There are interesting light effects early in the morning with the rising sun shining on some, but not all of the skyscrapers. I would like to be a better photographer. I tried to take some photos of skyscrapers reflected in the shiny exterior of other skyscrapers.
Bryant Park is a lovely area, used by all sorts of groups, with a small oval, plants ,lots of paving and little round metal tables and chairs ( not bolted down) , some food kiosks. I sat down and started to read the New York Times I had bought. I wish I had waited to have my breakfast there, it was lovely. They have early morning tours to talk about the birds that live there. I walked from there to the main tourist bureau, and, third time lucky, it was open. Apparently the Muppets were visiting on Thursday. They are official NY abassadors to somewhere or maybe from somewhere to NY – I was struggling with the guys accent and lost the thread of why the muppets should disrupt the hundreds of tourists who must pass through that place daily. After the Muppets visit all their computers went down. Hence the second days closure. What did the Muppets do?
I set off in the direction of Central Railway station, stopped in at St Patricks Cathedral , was not in the mood, moved on to the Rockefeller buildings forecourt. I was not feeling brilliant – lack of sleep, lack of food and decided to come home and do nothing for the afternoon. That was easier said than done. I waited on the platform for ages and ages – about half an hour. I was on the platform at which B and D trains depart from. I wanted a B train – local, stopping at all stops . The D goes along most of the same line but skips a lot of stops ( including mine), until it gets to the Yankee stadium. There must have been a Yankee game on this afternoon, given the clothing of most of the people who were arriving at the platform. 3 D’s came along before my B – and I can understand the train scheduler’s logic.
I had a nice lunch on my way back to my studio. Next to the Italian café where my brain scrambled on Thursday morning is a French bistro. I went there for their $25 fixed price lunch. It was excellent value – a delicious onion and goat cheese tart, nice salmon and beans and then the highlight – a lemon tart. But – another muddle- one of the menu choices was ravioli du jour and most of the wait staff were Spanish . I have been looking at the wine lists of lots of places looking for North American wines with little success. There were none on the menu today, so I asked whether he had any. He produced a chardonnay from the Carneros area of the Napa Valley. It was not particularly to my taste, but I drank it. As far as I have seen wine by the glass is consistently more expensive relative to the food than in Australia. The glass today was $10 – the lower end of what I have seen.
I have spent some lovely relaxing time this afternoon sitting in my window seat , doing some embroidery, watching the passing parade of locals – many going for a walk, cycle, jog in Central Park I surmise by their clothing.
PS
Yesterday with my crabcake on the plate was ½ lemon tied up in a bright yellow bit of gauze material. I asked what it was and was told it is so I did not get pulp on my crabcake. I thought – I’d rather pulp than that garish dye, but said nothing.
Yesterday , with the salad that came with my tofu and veg curry in the evening was chip-size pieces of a vegetable I did not know. – jicama. It is otherwise known as Mexican yam or Mexican turnip. It is the fruit of a vine, eaten raw and did taste a bit like a turnip.
Yesterday I passed a lovely little ‘urban park’ in between 2 skyscrapers. There was a paved area, tables, chairs , a waterfall ( excellent at providing background noise so you did not notice the car noises) , murals, plants in pots.. I passed another today, this one with a clear roof through which you could see the neighbouring skyscrpers.
Friday 13th New York
This morning I tried a restaurant for breakfast that was described as New England-ish and recommended by the owners of this studio. There was a quilt on the wall, paper mache cows, embroideries on the walls. I had apple pancakes – OK, but I could make them. I then walked through Central Park to the Upper East Side to the Frick Museum. The park was lovely. It had a peaceful feel to it – people walking, jogging, cycling, sitting, fishing. Most of the trees were just sprouting new leaves or fully-laden blossom trees. Quite often you could see the skyscraper skyline through the trees.
The Frick collection is housed in the former residence (built 1913-14) of Henry Frick, who I have seen described as a robber-baron. Apparently a ruthless man, but he acquired a huge collection of paintings and things. My favourite things were a very ornate silver equelle – described in the audio guide as a small tureen for casseroles- which had small silver carvings of animals and vegetables that would have gone into the casserole all around it including a dead bird on the handle of the lid , a painting by Holbein of Sir Thomas More with a strong but still thoughtful face and luxurious velvet sleeves and some small painted enamel works from Limoges.
From there I walked downtown along Madison ave weaving around a bit through the streets of the Upper East Side. I stopped at a little French patisserie for coffee and 2 little macaroons – it was a special deal - coffee and 2 macaroons cost 50cents more than coffee and 1 macaroon. A no-brainer. I talked a bit to the lady next to me on one side and to a lady on the other side who was visiting from Florida. Walking past all the fancy designer shops reminded me of doing a similar thing in Rome last September. None of the shops here had prices but they did in Rome.
I went into Bloomingdales and bought a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms that were on special. I had not realised that my old cycling leggings were quite as holey as they are. Maybe not a good look when I go later to stay with relatives. I had lunch at their restaurant which I knew would be expensive but I was tired. I had had another very disturbed sleep the previous night. The Maryland crab cakes were delicious. I walked to the tourist bureau, only to find it closed again – 2 days in a row. There were 2 young people with ‘trainee’ badges standing outside to fend off irate customers –a hard job for a trainee. With a great effort I managed to be polite.
All along Broadway from Columbus Circle north every 2 to 5 cross streets is a statue of an animal or more with an apple. I took a few photos on the way home and will take more in future. I bought myself a pair of New Balance Minimus Zero trail shoes. They have a flat vibram sole and a very thin lightweight top with no support at all. They have the same functionality as the 5 finger shoes, forcing you to strike the ground mid-foot not on your heel and to use your toes more, supposedly improving your posture. The woman’s were a bright luminous green and the men's were black, which I chose so I could more comfortably wear them around. It will take a while getting my body used to them. I have not worked out, though, what happens when I can wear them comfortably to jog in and go back to ordinary shoes – will I be able to chop and change? I wore them home and stopped , at their invitation, to talk to Susan and Warren who were talking to their next door neighbours on their stoop – the steps going up to their front door. It was Susan who had told me about the shop – sorry, I think I said that yesterday. I told her how I liked that she was able to wear her grey hair long. I had been looking all day and there were lots of long grey haired well dressed women. She said it was only in New York.
Later, after talking to Wendy and my granddaughters on Skype I went to Peacefoods for a light dinner. I was pleased with myself. In the past, if a restaurant looked full I would not have gone in but this time I thought why not ask. In Australia I donot like to be squeezed in, but here everyone expects it. It is another vegan restaurant. I had tofu and veg Thai green curry. It was delicious but a huge serving. The young couple next to me walked all the way from Soho, where they live, to this particular restaurant once a fortnight.
Some random thoughts/ observations:
100m along the street is a NYPD station. They have little 3 wheel buggy-like cars the same as you see making deliveries in Italian old towns with narrow streets.
100 m in the opposite direction is a Ukrakian Orthodox church.
I have seen many female nannies pushing along their charges. I have also seen male nannies. What are they called?
Some things that made me smile :
A squirrel playing in Central Park, lots of clumps of tulips and daffodils in Central Park, the thought of the expression on my children’s face if I were to tell them that I am moving to New York for as long as it takes to grow my hair to my shoulders, assuming it is still as thick as it used to be. All the long grey hair I have seen is thick.
Apart from the too small women behind the counter of the tiny patisserie( there were only 5 tiny tables) there was a young largish guy in his early 20's I guess. He was Jewish and trying to balance his black bowler-like hat on his spiked hair was difficult for him as he bent over to get some little delicacy out of the display cabinet. I tried not to smile openly.
The Frick collection is housed in the former residence (built 1913-14) of Henry Frick, who I have seen described as a robber-baron. Apparently a ruthless man, but he acquired a huge collection of paintings and things. My favourite things were a very ornate silver equelle – described in the audio guide as a small tureen for casseroles- which had small silver carvings of animals and vegetables that would have gone into the casserole all around it including a dead bird on the handle of the lid , a painting by Holbein of Sir Thomas More with a strong but still thoughtful face and luxurious velvet sleeves and some small painted enamel works from Limoges.
From there I walked downtown along Madison ave weaving around a bit through the streets of the Upper East Side. I stopped at a little French patisserie for coffee and 2 little macaroons – it was a special deal - coffee and 2 macaroons cost 50cents more than coffee and 1 macaroon. A no-brainer. I talked a bit to the lady next to me on one side and to a lady on the other side who was visiting from Florida. Walking past all the fancy designer shops reminded me of doing a similar thing in Rome last September. None of the shops here had prices but they did in Rome.
I went into Bloomingdales and bought a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms that were on special. I had not realised that my old cycling leggings were quite as holey as they are. Maybe not a good look when I go later to stay with relatives. I had lunch at their restaurant which I knew would be expensive but I was tired. I had had another very disturbed sleep the previous night. The Maryland crab cakes were delicious. I walked to the tourist bureau, only to find it closed again – 2 days in a row. There were 2 young people with ‘trainee’ badges standing outside to fend off irate customers –a hard job for a trainee. With a great effort I managed to be polite.
All along Broadway from Columbus Circle north every 2 to 5 cross streets is a statue of an animal or more with an apple. I took a few photos on the way home and will take more in future. I bought myself a pair of New Balance Minimus Zero trail shoes. They have a flat vibram sole and a very thin lightweight top with no support at all. They have the same functionality as the 5 finger shoes, forcing you to strike the ground mid-foot not on your heel and to use your toes more, supposedly improving your posture. The woman’s were a bright luminous green and the men's were black, which I chose so I could more comfortably wear them around. It will take a while getting my body used to them. I have not worked out, though, what happens when I can wear them comfortably to jog in and go back to ordinary shoes – will I be able to chop and change? I wore them home and stopped , at their invitation, to talk to Susan and Warren who were talking to their next door neighbours on their stoop – the steps going up to their front door. It was Susan who had told me about the shop – sorry, I think I said that yesterday. I told her how I liked that she was able to wear her grey hair long. I had been looking all day and there were lots of long grey haired well dressed women. She said it was only in New York.
Later, after talking to Wendy and my granddaughters on Skype I went to Peacefoods for a light dinner. I was pleased with myself. In the past, if a restaurant looked full I would not have gone in but this time I thought why not ask. In Australia I donot like to be squeezed in, but here everyone expects it. It is another vegan restaurant. I had tofu and veg Thai green curry. It was delicious but a huge serving. The young couple next to me walked all the way from Soho, where they live, to this particular restaurant once a fortnight.
Some random thoughts/ observations:
100m along the street is a NYPD station. They have little 3 wheel buggy-like cars the same as you see making deliveries in Italian old towns with narrow streets.
100 m in the opposite direction is a Ukrakian Orthodox church.
I have seen many female nannies pushing along their charges. I have also seen male nannies. What are they called?
Some things that made me smile :
A squirrel playing in Central Park, lots of clumps of tulips and daffodils in Central Park, the thought of the expression on my children’s face if I were to tell them that I am moving to New York for as long as it takes to grow my hair to my shoulders, assuming it is still as thick as it used to be. All the long grey hair I have seen is thick.
Apart from the too small women behind the counter of the tiny patisserie( there were only 5 tiny tables) there was a young largish guy in his early 20's I guess. He was Jewish and trying to balance his black bowler-like hat on his spiked hair was difficult for him as he bent over to get some little delicacy out of the display cabinet. I tried not to smile openly.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
First day in New York
This morning I could not work out how to work the coffee machine so I went to one of the cafes that I had seen a few minutes walk away called Tarallucci e Vino for coffee and a croissant. It is a wine bar, open for breakfast and all through the day and, you guessed it, Italian. The menu was in Italian but I was unsure of the waiter’s accent. US and European. My still foggy mind found it difficult not to speak in Italian. I started to ask to look at the menus for other meals in Italian, stopped and repeated in English. The American at the table adjacent ( very adjacent - I will have to practise more graceful exits) asked where I was from and I told him and when I arrived and why my brain was slightly scrambled. He replied with a summary of the pros and cons of the mining tax , the inequitable distribution of mineral resources etc in Australia. My poor brain struggled to come up with something intelligent to add. I looked at the wine list. They have many wines by the glass but they were all Italian – I want to try American wines. Bother, I will have to look for somewhere else.
I came back to the apartment and Warren was standing just inside his door so I asked about recycling. Susan came in and they both expressed surprise that I would be bothered. As well as showing me how to turn the lamps on, Susan showed me how to work the coffee machine so tomorrow I will have to come up with a different excuse to go out.
My aim today was to walk to the main tourist bureau and not do too much. I set off and looked in lots of windows on the way – clothes shops around here do not seem to open until 11- and found a running shoe shop that Susan had recommended. I will go back. They have a good range of very lightweight shoes that are a good transition to the 5 toe style , about half the price of that in Australia. The guy I spoke to was thin, wiry and about the same age as me. I made some remark about my wearing-out knees which he clearly related to. Soon after that I thought it was time for a bit more food and I stopped at a cute little place called Choco Bollo. It was started by a Portuguese guy. Apart from Portuguese tarts they make several different sorts of chocolate cake. There was only another couple there but the tables were tiny and closely packed so it is just as well. I had a delicious tart and average coffee. The sign on the window said ‘Choc Bollo for Coffee, Cake and Conversation. I donot know who the conversation was supposed to be between, but while I was there, one of the 2 guys serving was telling the other about the difficulties he had eating and being around food during Passover, which it is now. I asked a question and I became included. I could not pick his accent either. He came from France quite a few years ago and is Jewish. There was a gutteralness to his speech that maybe came from Hebrew ? who knows in this city.
The closer I got to midtown, the more tourists there were. I heard mainly Spanish and English ( from England I mean) .
I have heard it said many times that New York is a city that never sleeps – you can get whatever you want 24 hours a day. Well, not me. I got to the main tourist bureau in New York City at about 11.30 to be greeted with a sign on the door saying it was closed for the day and would reopen at 1.30 pm tomorrow. The sign directed me to a kiosk-like place in Times Square which was useless. I can not work out the attraction of Times Square. The glittery billboards are bigger than anywhere else. The tourists seem to mill around looking at other tourists. The tour touts mill around watching the tourists. There is a large temporary looking tiered stand that groups of people were sitting on, but I could not work out what they were looking at – other than the glittery billboards and other tourists. Give me the Spanish Steps any day.
I walked home, trying to walk a different route. At one point I decided to eat at the next reasonable place. It was an Italian restaurant with a very reasonable fixed-price lunch. The waitress was from Colombia and the waiter looked like he was from somewhere in South America too. I also went into a delightful shop that I hope to return to called Knitty City. It was full of lovely wool, patterns, knitted samples, all manner of nice ‘knitty’ things, several tables of people knitting and chatting to and helping each other.
Everybody who I have talked to speaks slower that my memory of people from USA that I have known. People are friendly and very polite.
Susan, one of the owners, has shoulder length thick grey hair. At the next table to me at lunch time, there was another lady with long grey hair. I will watch more carefully tomorrow.
After a few hours here in the afternoon, I decided that I needed to try another new thing for me – sitting at a bar for a meal. Most restaurants seem to have a bar people can eat at as well as drink at. It is common to see single people eating and chatting to others and the bar staff. There is a café round the corner called Blossom – a vegan café. I had a small serve of delicious soup. I will have to have more practice – other people just came in and sat down in one fluid motion. I sat down and was too far away from the bar and had to have several gos to get the stool in the right place with me on it. The young bar guy was from Brooklyn.
Bed time.
I came back to the apartment and Warren was standing just inside his door so I asked about recycling. Susan came in and they both expressed surprise that I would be bothered. As well as showing me how to turn the lamps on, Susan showed me how to work the coffee machine so tomorrow I will have to come up with a different excuse to go out.
My aim today was to walk to the main tourist bureau and not do too much. I set off and looked in lots of windows on the way – clothes shops around here do not seem to open until 11- and found a running shoe shop that Susan had recommended. I will go back. They have a good range of very lightweight shoes that are a good transition to the 5 toe style , about half the price of that in Australia. The guy I spoke to was thin, wiry and about the same age as me. I made some remark about my wearing-out knees which he clearly related to. Soon after that I thought it was time for a bit more food and I stopped at a cute little place called Choco Bollo. It was started by a Portuguese guy. Apart from Portuguese tarts they make several different sorts of chocolate cake. There was only another couple there but the tables were tiny and closely packed so it is just as well. I had a delicious tart and average coffee. The sign on the window said ‘Choc Bollo for Coffee, Cake and Conversation. I donot know who the conversation was supposed to be between, but while I was there, one of the 2 guys serving was telling the other about the difficulties he had eating and being around food during Passover, which it is now. I asked a question and I became included. I could not pick his accent either. He came from France quite a few years ago and is Jewish. There was a gutteralness to his speech that maybe came from Hebrew ? who knows in this city.
The closer I got to midtown, the more tourists there were. I heard mainly Spanish and English ( from England I mean) .
I have heard it said many times that New York is a city that never sleeps – you can get whatever you want 24 hours a day. Well, not me. I got to the main tourist bureau in New York City at about 11.30 to be greeted with a sign on the door saying it was closed for the day and would reopen at 1.30 pm tomorrow. The sign directed me to a kiosk-like place in Times Square which was useless. I can not work out the attraction of Times Square. The glittery billboards are bigger than anywhere else. The tourists seem to mill around looking at other tourists. The tour touts mill around watching the tourists. There is a large temporary looking tiered stand that groups of people were sitting on, but I could not work out what they were looking at – other than the glittery billboards and other tourists. Give me the Spanish Steps any day.
I walked home, trying to walk a different route. At one point I decided to eat at the next reasonable place. It was an Italian restaurant with a very reasonable fixed-price lunch. The waitress was from Colombia and the waiter looked like he was from somewhere in South America too. I also went into a delightful shop that I hope to return to called Knitty City. It was full of lovely wool, patterns, knitted samples, all manner of nice ‘knitty’ things, several tables of people knitting and chatting to and helping each other.
Everybody who I have talked to speaks slower that my memory of people from USA that I have known. People are friendly and very polite.
Susan, one of the owners, has shoulder length thick grey hair. At the next table to me at lunch time, there was another lady with long grey hair. I will watch more carefully tomorrow.
After a few hours here in the afternoon, I decided that I needed to try another new thing for me – sitting at a bar for a meal. Most restaurants seem to have a bar people can eat at as well as drink at. It is common to see single people eating and chatting to others and the bar staff. There is a café round the corner called Blossom – a vegan café. I had a small serve of delicious soup. I will have to have more practice – other people just came in and sat down in one fluid motion. I sat down and was too far away from the bar and had to have several gos to get the stool in the right place with me on it. The young bar guy was from Brooklyn.
Bed time.
Getting to New York
I used frequent flyer points for my flights and bought an exit row seat for the Sydney to LA leg and got upgraded to one for the LA to NY flight. I think it was worth it, but on the first flight, the overnight one, I was quite close to the galley and often got light in my eyes when a flight attendant went in or out. Another problem - while I approve of including different people as flight attendants, rather than the traditional young and skinny, I was not entirely happy at being woken several times by a bump from a passing flight attendant who was wider than the distance between the edge of my chair and the wall. On the LA to NY flight I heard, for the first time, an announcement that people were not allowed to congregate in groups, particularly near the toilets.
I went armed with directions to get public transport to my apartment. There is a new airtrain linking the different terminals and connecting at 2 different stations to several of the subway lines. On both occasions when I stopped to compare my instructions with the displayed map, someone approached me offering help. I got onto the first subway train at the end of the group of people and was initially undecided whether to take my pack off and sit, leave my pack on and perch on the edge of the seat or stay standing. I was undecided when the train moved off and was looking at the map to make sure I knew the station I had to get off at when several people shifted so that I could sit down. I was most uncomfortable and used a lot of energy staying precariously on the edge of the seat, not sliding off it, not to mention what the pilates instructor calls my ‘sit bones’. Needless to say after changing to the second subway train, I stayed standing. It was all worth it when I easily passed on the stairs out of the station several people struggling with large suitcases. The apartment is only a few blocks away from that subway station in a lovely residential street with blocks of apartments, some , like mine, old brownstones. The leaves are just beginning to come out on the trees along both sides of the street. Most of the buildings are 5 or 6 storeys high and the trees are the same height. They grow out of the pavement and many have flowers, often tulips, planted around them. Most of the buildings have a half flight of steps up to the main door and a half flight of steps down to the lower level. I am on the first floor, the one up from the main entrance level, with 2 big windows that look toward the street and the trees. The street is one way, lined with parked cars on both sides , and not busy. Last night I listened intermittently for noise and heard nothing, apart from the person above me who was moving around at 2.30am.
The owners live in the basement and Warren has his office in the first room on the entrance level. He happened to be looking out his window as I arrived and he assumed that the funny-looking woman staring at his building was his new tenant and came out to greet me. I also met his wife, Susan. They are a lovely couple and seem very happy to help answer questions. The studio is small, but furnished with nice old wooden pieces – a big desk set between the windows, a comfy bed, 2 large leather tub chairs infront of a funny-looking old, no longer functioning fireplace, a large interesting cabinet housing the TV, a large chest of drawers, books, lamps. There is a chest in front of one of the windows on which I have put some of the cushions from the bed to make a nice window seat where I comfortably watched the world go past for a while this afternoon. I walked around the block last night to buy a bit of fruit and some crackers and found many interesting looking cafes. Maybe I will be taking the crackers to Martha Vineyard. I bought the supplies from a little ‘corner shop’ (through it was not on the corner) that apparently is the last family owned and run shop now in the area. In the notes given to me by the owners , it was described as ‘old New York’. I did not know what that meant, but when I heard these 2 old guys behind the counter gently, slowly, talking to each other, politely stop and greet me when I entered, then continue their conversation, I knew what ‘old NY’ was.
I went armed with directions to get public transport to my apartment. There is a new airtrain linking the different terminals and connecting at 2 different stations to several of the subway lines. On both occasions when I stopped to compare my instructions with the displayed map, someone approached me offering help. I got onto the first subway train at the end of the group of people and was initially undecided whether to take my pack off and sit, leave my pack on and perch on the edge of the seat or stay standing. I was undecided when the train moved off and was looking at the map to make sure I knew the station I had to get off at when several people shifted so that I could sit down. I was most uncomfortable and used a lot of energy staying precariously on the edge of the seat, not sliding off it, not to mention what the pilates instructor calls my ‘sit bones’. Needless to say after changing to the second subway train, I stayed standing. It was all worth it when I easily passed on the stairs out of the station several people struggling with large suitcases. The apartment is only a few blocks away from that subway station in a lovely residential street with blocks of apartments, some , like mine, old brownstones. The leaves are just beginning to come out on the trees along both sides of the street. Most of the buildings are 5 or 6 storeys high and the trees are the same height. They grow out of the pavement and many have flowers, often tulips, planted around them. Most of the buildings have a half flight of steps up to the main door and a half flight of steps down to the lower level. I am on the first floor, the one up from the main entrance level, with 2 big windows that look toward the street and the trees. The street is one way, lined with parked cars on both sides , and not busy. Last night I listened intermittently for noise and heard nothing, apart from the person above me who was moving around at 2.30am.
The owners live in the basement and Warren has his office in the first room on the entrance level. He happened to be looking out his window as I arrived and he assumed that the funny-looking woman staring at his building was his new tenant and came out to greet me. I also met his wife, Susan. They are a lovely couple and seem very happy to help answer questions. The studio is small, but furnished with nice old wooden pieces – a big desk set between the windows, a comfy bed, 2 large leather tub chairs infront of a funny-looking old, no longer functioning fireplace, a large interesting cabinet housing the TV, a large chest of drawers, books, lamps. There is a chest in front of one of the windows on which I have put some of the cushions from the bed to make a nice window seat where I comfortably watched the world go past for a while this afternoon. I walked around the block last night to buy a bit of fruit and some crackers and found many interesting looking cafes. Maybe I will be taking the crackers to Martha Vineyard. I bought the supplies from a little ‘corner shop’ (through it was not on the corner) that apparently is the last family owned and run shop now in the area. In the notes given to me by the owners , it was described as ‘old New York’. I did not know what that meant, but when I heard these 2 old guys behind the counter gently, slowly, talking to each other, politely stop and greet me when I entered, then continue their conversation, I knew what ‘old NY’ was.
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