BA Lounge, JFK Airport

I had some very delicious berries,yoghurt and granola - not as sweet as most here - and coffee and said 'goodbye' to another cafe. I managed to squeeze everything into my pack and left it and my day pack with Warren and Susan and walked  a kilometre or so to a cafe in  Central Park where I had an early lunch. I went back, collected my bags, walked to the corner, stuck my arm out and a taxi stopped. Very easy.

I chatted to a lady from Sydney while waiting for half an hour or so for the checkin desk to open.  I explained to the nice gentleman what had happened on the way over and was there anything he could do, please, to stop it happening again. Turns out he is the duty officer  in charge of the other check in people and none of them can change my seat without refering to him. He will also be at the departure gate. I also wrote his name in my little notebook. We shall see what happens. It will be just my luck to have a very large person sitting either side of me.

At the end of the conversation, before he gave my boarding pass to me he wrote on it. 'This will get you into the BA lounge' he said.  Thank you very much. I have just had a very interesting shower . I could have water coming out from the top, or  shoulder height or top and shoulder or hip eight.  I had taken spare clothes with the intention of changing in LA, but the shower and clean clothes are lovely now.

I will now go and get some food.

Wednesday Last full day

This morning I was almost not popular twice.   I had to buy a subway ticket because my monthy one has run out. I had a whole lot of quarters saved to do a load of washing which I haven’t needed. It took a while to feed them into the machine at the subway station. Luckily there was only an old couple waiting and they were in no hurry and did not know what to do anyhow. I helped them.

At Bryant park, I took some extra time to pay, using up yet more small change .  The people behind me were tourists, so they could wait. My coffee and croissant were nice. But the wind made reading the paper a bit difficult.  Then I walked about 14 blocks  heading to a shop , Habu, I had read about. I passed Macy’s and thought I would have a quick look to see if they had shoes like I am looking for. Silly me.   Once I found the shoe floor, I quickly realised that  the acre of  brightly coloured summer shoes with  mirrored stands reflecting glittering lights was not where I wanted to be.  I did a quick wiz around so I could pretend to myself that I had looked .  I went onto the other shop, but it had no street front or wasnot there, so I went to the next on my list . This was a material shop like nothing I have ever seen in my life. Rows and rows and rows of material of all different sorts, some ordinary – but all colours of ordinary -, some beautiful Italian wool etc .  Most of the bolts had a safety pin sort of thing with about 20 5 cm by 5 cm swatches  that you could take 1 of.  There were rules though, and some of the beautiful European fabrics did not have any.  Next was a shop called Muji – a Japanese shop that sold storage containers, clothes, furniture – all sorts of different things.

Then I came back here and had lunch at one of my local cafes . I half  listened to the people at the next table discussing in Italian some other eating places in New York. I was looking at my book but not turning the pages very often. I was surprised at how much I could understand.  This afternoon I pottered, sorting myself out for tomorrow’s trip home.

I had dinner at a nice small  place ( same block) that I have eaten at several times before. Apparently the owner went to Byron Bay about 10 years or so ago for 2 weeks and stayed for 1 ½ years in Australia. I had a glass of wine with my dinner , then decided to have desert because it is my last evening and was given another glass of wine. It would have been rude of me not to drink it!  I talked to the ‘mayor’ holding court on his step  2 doors away from mine for a while after dinner and met some other locals as they went past. Very interesting. One lady was saying that she was under the impression that Australians held American culture in high regard.  Hmmm. Tricky to answer. I said that certain sections of our society may do, but not all. Bed time.

Tuesday Montauk

Yesterday I caught the bus to Montauk as planned. The time was spent getting out of NY, speeding along a freeway down the middle of long island, and then going slowly through the last  6 or so small towns before reaching Montauk, the most easterly town. As i had hoped, it has a more low key feel to it than the other towns.

I arrived at a bit before 1 pm and was thinking about lunch. i walked to the place i was staying at, 2km away.  I have a nice room or rather 2small rooms with a view past the verandah, cross the car park, cross the road, thru the 50m of low scrub to the beach and breaking waves.  I asked the proprietor if he knew where I could get a lobster roll ( because i missed out the day before - i can justify anything). He said near the wharf area. He was about to go into town so he gave me a lift.  I knew I would have to walk a fair way back.  I had a lovely lobster roll with a view of fishing boats,  a few people doing odd jobs,  a few boats coming in and out. Great. Then I walked back to my b and b. The first 6 km was along a road with just a row of houses between me and the water. There was a wide range of styles - big and old, big and new, big and pseudo tudor, big and. ... Then I went inland and the houses became more modest. I stopped for a coffee at the town and got back here and relaxed for a while.

Because the season has not got going, and it was Monday, there were no restaurants open between here and the main bit of the town, so back I went to a place that was recommended, the other side of the town. It was a lovely place on the edge of a lake with lovely views,  looking into the setting sun.I had some delicious baked clams and then a seafood plate that had salmon, scallops and swordfish. Then I had what was described as a creme brulee taster - 5 eggcups of 5 different flavours. They were big egg cups, but i had earned it. I walked back,  quite enough walking for the day.

I wondered what the gentle rhythmical sound was after i turned my light out last night  . I have not enjoyed being lulled to sleep by waves in a while. This morning I enjoyed a stroll along the beach, breakfast looking at the ocean and then a few hours of reading on the verandah  before heading back into town, to catch the bus back to manhattan. My only regret is that I should have had this mini-break last week.  I got back to Manhattan at about 3 and  a little souvenir shopping on the way back here.

I have just looked I my little notebook that I jot odd things in.

On the bus going towards Montauk we got offered a muffin or a granola bar. This morning we got offered a choice of pretzels, chips or goldfish.  Goldfish?  Apparently they are savoury cheese biscuits. I chose  chips.

One of the towns that had an exit off the freeway leading to it was called Hicksville. I must find out if Hick has any negative connotations here.

I had 2 maps of Montauk. One was badly not too scale and only had some streets marked, the other was more to scale but the scale was not marked,. It had more streets on it, but not all. 

It was cold and very windy when I got to Montauk. I wished I had taken my thermal pants, but it warmed up as the day got on and was quite mild by the time I was walking back after dinner. Today it was mild in Montauk and cold in NY.

Several days ago I saw a sightseeing bus that had  about 4 rows of tiered  seats  longways down the bus. So everyone was looking out the same side windows.

Technology is great. Several nights ago, sitting in bed,  I finished the book I was reading, did not feel like starting the next bookclub book which I have on my tablet,  wanted an easy who dun-it, so logged into my account at the Belconnen library and scrolled through the available titles in the mystery section, downloaded one and started it – all without getting out of bed in far away New York.  I do have the library’s Overdrive app installed.

Saturday and Sunday

Saturday was not a brilliant day. Sometimes being on my own, away from home, gets to me a bit and I wonder why I am putting myself through the effort involved.

I had a nice breakfast at a nearby ( 3 blocks) Le Pain Quotidien – a bakery/café chain that has spread since last year. I like their food. They have fruit salad, other healthy stuff as well as nice croissants and other similar things. OK coffee. And lunch stuff. I went back to my room, fiddled with photos and read more of my who-dun-it but could not silence the voice in my head that said ‘get up and do something ( i.e. useful)’  So I did. I thought I would eat at the first place that did not have a queue and then go into Central Park and have a wander over more parts that I have not been to.  The first 4 places had queues, the next was an Indian offering $10 talis . Peaceful and pleasant food. Mothers Day is a big deal here, and brunch is  normally a big deal, hence cafes this weekend are doubly busy. 

After wandering in Central Park I went down to 52^nd st to a shop I had read about..  The rain, which had stopped in the morning, had started again. Thunder, tropical downpour sort of rain. Many contenders for best wet T-shirt . I had my rain jacket, but ended up with wet shoes (again)

Then home for a Skype call with my daughter and her husband. 

Today, I have been back to normal.  My fairly regular morning wake-up ( for me ) / goodnight ( to him)  call helped. Then I went for coffee to one of the 2  very local cafes that I alternate between but have neglected over the past few weeks in favour of the other one. In part of the NY Times that I was reading there was an article about a writer’s preference for solo travelling. It was thought-provoking and several times I felt myself smiling in agreement.

Last year I walked twice , once at night and once in daytime, along the High Line in Chelsea. This is a stretch of about 4 km of a disused elevated freight line that has been turned into a park.  It is great. Last year the first section had been finished , this year the second section , which was there last year , is now complete. It too has several places where you can sit and watch the underlying streets, Lots of timber seats, nooks and crannies, interesting art works. It was crowded, but not too so.

My intention was to have a lobster roll at a famous place in Chelsea Market that I enjoyed last year. Chelsea Market is a big old disused ( I think biscuit ) factory that now houses lots of food shops and a few cafes and a few homeware shops. And, on Sundays at noon , many many people. I quickly scrapped the idea of a take away and decided to go into a nice restaurant . Because it was relatively early (they had not been open for brunch) I got a quiet seat at the end of the bar. I had 2  of 2 different sorts of oysters and lobster bisque and a glass of pinot blanc. Not quite lobster roll, but delicious. The young lady who served me was very helpful.

I forgot – walking around New York you pass many doormen – of fancy hotels , of apartment buildings, of fancy shops – standing around outside their building. Most of them deliberately try to avoid making eye contact  or greeting you if you donot look like one of their customers. On one of my several routes to one of the subway lines I have a choice of, I pass the Beresford – Maid in Manhattan fame – a huge fancy hotel/apartment building.  It is on a corner and has 3 different doors and 3 different doorman. This morning one of them greeted me cheerily ‘ Good Morning Ma’am, Happy Mothers Day’. I stopped and chatted to him for a bit. He made me smile. I was pleased with myself that I refrained from the obvious question ‘How do you know I am a mother?’

On  my way home from Chelsea, at the same corner as the Beresford , I saw a straggly bunch of elderly people from a distance. I caught up to them. They were the Granny Peace Brigade. Banners, placards. They gave me a brochure. Apparently the lady, Julia Ward Howe, credited with initiating Mothers Day in 1870, was very anti-war. She wrote a poem against war – her Mother’s Day Proclamation.

In the afternoon I organized  for tomorrow morning , a bus to Montauk ( pronounced Montork) , a room at a B and B , and a return bus  on Tuesday. Montauk is on the Eastern end of Long Island.  The wind and ocean will be good.

Photos

Jane's Carousel

 My horse - with an attitude.  Friendly eyes but with a bit of a snarl.

Lucky horses- to live with a view like that.

The Watertower 

Great that kids have a 3 masted vessel to play on with the Brooklyn Bridge in the background.

Friday Carousel and Watertower

Today was a muddle.  The sightseeing highlight came unexpectedly at the end.

I had my morning cup of coffee at Bryant Park. I find it easy to just sit there, not read or plan or even think much.  I checked -new flowers in the ladies restroom. I spent a while talking to a guy who was trying  to sell copies of his cookbook. We  talked mainly about soul food and how it is changing to accomodate more modern tastes eg less fat. .I also looked at the books on the Reading Room rack. There were several anthologies of author’s writings about New York.      What a pity, I will have to go back and have a read.  I walked to my next planned destination.

There is a new museum recently opened -a museum of  maths (or rather math). I had planned to get there when it opened at 10 . I got there more like 10.30 and was hit by a wall of sound. Far too many school kids.  No thanks. The museum is on the edge of Madison Square Park, where i had not been before, so I wandered around . There were lots of people siting chatting, playing with kids, reading etc. There was an art installation called Red, Yellow and Blue. I quote from the pamphlet   "this work...envelops 3 lawns within MSP with 1.4 million feet of undulating,  layered nautical rope covered in over 3500 gallons of paint". The shapes were quite pleasing to look at. Sort of like waves or sand dunes.

I walked on, further south and stopped in at a  giant homewares / furnishings shop, ABC Home that I had been told about. It was full of lovely stuff.  This was not on todays agenda, but it was interesting. I looked in a few more shops on my way to The Broken Kilometre. This is a place I tried to go to before and went to 393 broadway, not west broadway.  Not sure why i  bothered.  It was rather peaceful in a weird way.  In a large bare rooom, timber floor, old white pillars with fancy tops, tin ceiling, there are 500 highly polished round solid brass rods each 2M in length and 5cm in diameter. The 500 rods are placed in 5 parallel rows of 100  rods each. I sat and looked at it for a while. Then i walked to the housingworks cafe where i have been several times before for lunch. On the way i had an ethical problem. There were 2 well dressed women in front of me talking about going to this shop and that shop - fancy brand names.  One lady, the leader, said to the other  that   one of the shops was in Prince street and Prince street is ahead and to the right. No it is not, I thought. We past it several blocks ago. Would you like a look at my map? I thought.  Should I have said anything? . They walked on several blocks chatting to each other   with me following. The leader stopped at pedestrian  stop lights ( as I did) and said to the other 'you know what,  i am lost'  I looked around and saw that  2 young men standing nearby had heard her. Both women had loud voices-i wasnot trying to eavesdrop. I was sure the men would help, but i could have saved them several blocks of walking.

Lunch was a nice sandwich in very pleasant surroundings. Its a good feeling when you like a  place once, then  return and still like it. Doesnot always happen.  I sat there for a while thinking of  everything and nothing and everyone close to me and noone and decided i didnot want to go to the maths museum.  I  decided to go to DUMBO an area Down Under Manhatan and Brooklyn Overpass. Once again old warehouses being converted to expensive apartments, little shops, interesting cafes. There is an interesting foreshore ( ie. edge of east river ( I suppose a river can have a foreshore bit it sounds a bit funny) )  park.  Situated there is a lovely old carousel. This carousel was originally built in 1922 and installed in Ohio. It was bought by a NY couple in 1983. It was in bad disrepair.  The carousel was bought to NY and restoration started in 1985. It opened in September 2011.  So, having set a precedent in Central Park, I had to have a ride. Much more frivolous than the maths museum.

I wandered around the park a bit more and found a really interesting sculpture. The Watertower.  It is the same size as the 19^th century style wooden barrels used to store water on NY roofs. These water tanks are in lots of iconic pictures of NY  .  This new watertower is made of 1000 scraps of plexiglass.  It reflects light in an interesting way and apparently it is lit from the inside at night time. It was only installed recently.

Home, dinner and now bed.. I will put some photos here  tomorrow. I think I have a few good ones of the watrertower with the Brooklyn bridge in the background.

Thursday - Rain in Williamsburg.

Williamsburg is one of the trendy areas of Brooklyn. It has lots of little cafes, tiny old houses next to new apartment blocks, unusual shops, factories being converted into?? , the usual delis / corner shops  with lovely cheap flowers out the front, clothes shops for trendy young things 1/3 my age, a few vintage shops.  Once again , the locals had their gumboots on, the street drains were blocked, and people without gumboots  and without 6ft long legs got wet feet.  My waterproof, indestructible map only covers Manhattan and the small piece of paper I had with some Williamsburg streets was only legible for a short time. In fact, it fell apart before I was ready for it to fall apart. No matter, I just wandered. The map was helpful to get me to my first stop – a café started by the same guy who started Toby’s Estate about 12 years ago in Sydney that has spread in Australia and now to New York. It was in a large converted industrial space and had a nice feel to it. 

I came back here for lunch and spent the afternoon catching up on a few emails, compiling a list for my last 6 days and had  an afternoon nap.

In the evening I went to the bookclub  that the knitting shop I like organises. It was good.  I was made very welcome, my views were asked for, interesting discussion, friendly women.

A few odd things:

In a museum recently there was a sign on an exit door "Alarmed Exit" . I know what it means, but I did smile.

In a fancy jewellry shop on the Upper East Side the other day, I say a large life-like model of a zebra taking up a lot of the space. At the time I thought - another animal, but I cannot remember where else I have seen an animal in a jewellry shop. I think there must be a plague because yesterday I saw a large yak-like, again life size, animal. This one had fluroescent green hair. It was not the first animal that I saw. So I will keep my eyes peeled for a fourth animal in a jewelry shop..

Wednesday Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art and a few others

This morning I went to the Rubin Museum in Chelsea after first stopping at one of the Café Grumpy chain of 4 cafes. I  have been  to one of these on the Lower East Side. The chain was started by an Australian and they understand ‘flat whites’.

The museum was very interesting.  It was opened fairly recently and  is built round a large spiral staircase that was part of its previous life as part of Barney’s  store .

The first floor had a sort of introduction to both Buddhist and Hindu art of the region - who the different people are ( e.g. Buddhas, Bodhisattivas, tantric deities, wrathful deities etc) , how they  are represented and what do  the different representations mean  etc.  The second floor had things from the museums permanent collection – paintings, textiles, objects. 

The next floor had a temporary exhibition about the Naga people (made up of quite a few tribes)  from the far NE of India  on the border with the  NW  corner of Burma. They were head hunters  - but only to fight waring  neighbouring tribes.  A  lot of emphasis was placed on status and your achievements.  The one garment you wore was a piece of cloth that had details of who you were woven into the design – if you were the chef’s wife,  how many banquets for the poor you had hosted , etc .  Dare say you got a new one if you were the chief’s wife and he got his head chopped off by a marauding tribe.  There were some of these beautifully pieces of cloth on display. The next floor had an exhibition called  ‘the flip side’. Tibetan art usually had a lot of detail on the back.

Another gallery had an interesting exhibition of photos taken by an American of what were described as living shrines of the Uyghur people of far NW China. The Uyghurs  are Buddhist and build structures in the desert  with upright  poles resting against each other with coloured flags . These ‘living shrines’ were called  ‘mazars’ in the text describing the photos.  I had some nice soup in their café.

Then I  walked north to W27 where the Fashion Institute of Technology is. They have a museum.   The first part with the historic costumes was interesting. There was an outfit for a woman to ride a bike in in 1888 which had a very nice jacket and a pair of trousers, though you would not have known – more like floor length culottes.  Apparently the zip was first used in 1913 and thenit was sometimes used on the outside. Not dissimilar to some tops I have seen over the last few years. There was lots of modern stuff with all sorts of computer-generated designed stuff. There was one black and white outfit – sleeveless dress and matching tights made from fabric with a pattern based on QR codes.

Then I caught a subway to W 60 and walked a bit to the American Folk Art Museum . I thought this might be beautiful quilts, but no, it was mostly somebodies paintings ( he was so unnoteworthy ( to me – or maybe I was getting tired) that I did not make a note of his name and of course have not remembered his name.)  of children and other people.

There was nothing interesting in the shop either.

I walked home, stopping to tell the mayor that Australia was roughly 2500 miles wide and 2000 mile from top to bottom, excluding Tasmania. I had had to look that up.

Tuesday Bronx Zoo

Its 8.45pm , I left for dinner , 130m away,at 6pm and I am just back. Dinner was delicious, but I dawdled. It was lovely sitting in the window watching the array of people pass by.  I had a glass of brouilly – a light French red that I  had never heard of. She was  very generous when she poured it.  Mind you, it is the third time I have been there. I also had desert. On the way back I stopped and talked to a guy who sits on the steps often of the building 1 away from me reading a book. I have watched everyone greet  him as they pass.  He is refered to as the mayor of W82. We talked for ages. He travels on his own, grew up in New York, is widely read and knowledgable about different parts of the world, is a software designer.

I had a lovely day at the Bronx Zoo. I caught an express bus there, wandered around for ages, did not always take notes or photos of signs so now have photos of unknown animals, just enjoyed watching the animals  play. They looked happy and content. I fell asleep on the subway on the way home. I woke with a start, looked around with no idea where we were or how long I’d been asleep for, a lady opposite me said ‘We’ve just past 125^th street’ . Very thoughtful of her.

If you click on the photos, they will open up bigger.

Okapi

Who is the peacock trying to impress?

Pere David's Deer

He was just waking up.

Must you take more photos of me?

Life's tough. Silvered Leaf  Monkeys

Nice kitty.

Camoflage of the snow leopard.

Monday Neue Gallerie

Instead of walking straight across Central Park I went about 1 km south, then  across and round about  ( I sat on a bench and watched some water having a coffee) and then north along Madison Avenue. I did not go into any of the  10 or 15 very fancy shops I passed. I did slow down a bit and peer in but I never saw any customers , in any of them.  About half had a  tall, skinny, young man  standing near the door , I suppose to greet potential customers.  None of the woman's shops with a doorman  had men’s clothing.  There were other shops too.  Only 1 or 2 mens wear shops. There were people in the second hand shop.

The Neue Gallery has 2 floors of about 4 rooms each, showing Austrian and German painters.  All but 2 of the rooms  were closed for a new installation.  They had moved some of the more popular paintings i.e. some of the Klimts into  the 2 rooms, adding to what was there before.  There were quite a few people trying to look at crowded together paintings. There were several Klimts that I liked.

On the way out I looked at my map before I went outside to see which way through CP I would walk – I was not going to go directly across. The doorman tried to help. He told me it would be much easier to catch a bus  because it was too far to walk across the park! Do I look that old?   Instead of walking directly  ( about 900 m) I walked along more of Madison Ave and a roundabout route through the park ( about 3 km) , getting back to my local cafes  for a  late nice lunch of salmon and Israeli couscous.

Sunday – Another day of rest

I went for a longish walk this morning along Riverside Drive – the stretch of park running down the west side of Manhattan. It was quite pleasant, despite the noise of the 6 lanes of cars. I had lunch in a café overlooking one of the few marinas. The food was nondescript. I paid for the view!.   Later in the afternoon I had a cup of coffee in Central Park. Only 2 more bridges to go.

1 man and 8 well-behaved dogs!

Self portrait

Saturday Brighton Beach and frivolous treat

 This morning I went by train to Brighton Beach in the south of  Brooklyn. It took about 1 ¼ hours.  This is a Russian part of New York.  In May 37 years ago John and I spent 4 weeks in the then Soviet Union. About  2 ½ of these weeks were in Russia. Lots of things brought back memories of that time – the old scarf-clad ladies with their large handbags queued up to buy things on the pavement, the slightly garish shops, the slightly dated feel of everything and everybody. The shops were all much better stocked though. The elevated train clattering down the main street added to the ambience! 

I had looked up beforehand and stopped at a café that had good reviews. The menu displayed in the window was in Russian with poor English translations, at 12.15 it was 2/3 full of people who looked very Russian and it was called Oceanview Café. The ocean was several blocks away, certainly not in view of the café. Ah well, I had to eat somewhere.   Noone else was speaking  English – the first waiter spoke very little English and got another waiter for me.  I had solyanka soup. John and I spent 4 days on the Trans Sberian train and we had solyanka – or meat soup as it was translated- for lunch and dinner.  Very little else was available I seem to remember. We played a game called ‘spot the meat’ . Sometimes we found a bit, sometimes we did not. Today I probably had more meat than I eat in a month in my soup.  I also ordered some vareniki..  I donot specifically remember them in Russia, but one of my sons-in-law speaks of his grandmother making them. They were good too. Somehow I dredged up the Russian for ‘thank you’ from the depths of my brain which was accurate enough to be recognisable and went down well.

The main street of Brighton Beach is a block away from the water. There is a wide boardwalk which goes for several kilometres along the coast. For part of the way there were large  boring brown blocks of flats right next to the board walk and then Coney Island – another Luna Park , only with many more rides. There was a large expanse of sand and flat water. The beach, however was closed.  There are signs everywhere – only swim if the lifeguards are on duty. Lifeguards are on duty from 10am to 6 pm from Memorial day ( the last Monday in May) to Labour day ( the 1st Monday in September). Visitors are also supposed to be off the beach from 9pm to 6am.  About 3 months of the year – very European.

For the whole 2 kilometres , I only saw a few other hats on females. Men seem to be more sensible. I did however see several women sporting an interesting nose cover , always white,  attached to their glasses.

I had read about the Wonder Wheel and decided a ride would be quite frivolous enough to satisfy my FFs. The Wonder wheel  was  opened in 1920 and is 150ft tall. Apparently it was the tallest in the world until the London Eye was built. It has different coloured cages. The white ones donot swing and the blue and red ones swing. I chose a white one. I looked carefully at how it was made before I got on, but  when the cage I was in was at its highest I was just a tad apprehensive. It seemed like I was stuck out in space with nothing to support my cage and the ground was a long way away.

After my ride I realised that it would be  quite inappropriate not to have a cone on Coney Island. There was no queue for icecreams but there were 8 lines of about 6 people in  each line queued up at Nathan’s Hot Dog stand.  ( Except  you donot queue up for anything  here , you ‘line  up’ ) Apparently ages ago Nathan invented the hot dog.  There were at least 5 other stands that I saw along the boardwalk all selling the same sorts of fried stuff and hot dogs  with not many customers.  Most of the people queued up looked like locals – like all the locals that queued outside the place near me.

Nathan’s did sell fish and chips – the first time I have  seen f and c  on  takeaway menu.

I came back here on a different  subway line. For the first half hour or so it was elevated and ran along a mainish road, so I did  get an idea of the different ethnic groups and different housing along the route..  I had to change trains at Bryant Park so went and got a coffee and read a magazine in the quite crowded but still very pleasant ‘readiing room’ . I made a mistake though. Supposedly you donot tip for takeaways, but quite a few people leave their change coins in the tip jar. Sometimes I do. Today , while I was waiting, I was idly wondering why there were so many notes in the tip jar.  I had my money ready and was surprised when she said the price . It was less. It was happy hour and the drinks were half price. I pocketed my change, but many people must have put their change in the tip jar.   Next time I will know.

Friday No plans and Dyckman Farmhouse

Last night, for the first time in 3 weeks ,  I went to sleep with no idea  of what I would do today.  I do have a list of 'must do' and 'like to do' s though. This morning, after a slow start and less planning than normal I set off north along Central Park West on the bus to find some of the scattered remaining bridges. Several buses later and I was still travelling north on the bus and got off at 125 th street – the old traditional heart of Harlem. I had been warned that it was full of cheap chain stores. That it was. I had not planned the timing properly  , nor taken my emergency supply of nuts, needed food and could see nowhere to get food. There must have been – I had the choice of 4 directions to walk in and , instead of asking someone, chose to get the subway further north to my destination, Inwood, on the northern tip of Manhattan.

I emerged from the subway at Inwood and could see no food places.  Normally I am pretty good at spotting places to eat.  Then I saw nearby a mother with a pram enter a place that , when I got nearer,  I saw said ‘Lunch and Dinner’  - that was the only sign I could see on the outside. I followed her. It was like a time warp. 1960’s country. I had a mushroom omelette which came with fried bits of potato and toast.  There was no salad on the menu.

The Dyckman Farmhouse Museum is at Inwood. It is the only Dutch colonial homestead in Manhattan.  Jan Dyckman established a farm here in the 1660’s. It was destroyed in the Revolutionary War and rebuilt in 1784 by his grandson William. It seemed typical to me of old farmhouses everywhere. The only thing a bit  Dutch-like was the front and back doors had an independently opening  top and bottom  half.. I wandered around, chatted to the nice young lady who worked there, sat on a bench in the grounds and then caught the subway back here. 

Later:

It is now 10.15 pm and I have just arrived home via subway( crowded train)  and foot ( other people about) after having a drink and dinner with the cousin of a friend with whom I went to Staten Island last weekend. It was most enjoyable.

Thursday Noguchi Museum in Queens and some duds

In my efforts to visit  all 5 of the boroughs , today I went to Queens.  I  had to change trains at Bryant Park , so I thought I would save my first morning coffee for there. ( you donot generally come out of the subway to change trains  but I have a  monthly pass so it did not matter) . I like Bryant Park. All the way there I had been looking forward to some fruit salad.  Trouble is there was none available  today. Nevermind, I spent my time looking at an interior design magazine of houses significantly  more up-market than mine. This magazine was from the rack available for people to borrow in the Reading Room of the park. I had intended to finish my postcards.

I caught the train to Long Island City – the part of Queens just over the East river from Roosevelt Island - and walked  a fair way to the  museum. It houses some of the work of Isamu Noguchi ( 1904 to 1988) the influential Japanese American designer and sculptor. Several people I know have copies of his furniture. The museum focussed on his large stone sculptures – some bigger than me. I particularly liked the basalt ones . They often had many different colours in them. There was a courtyard with more sculptures and a Japanese inspired garden.   I sat on a bench for a while. It was very peaceful. Then I had a mushroom wrap and chatted to a lady from Los Angeles. She was born there to Japanese parents and had met the sculptor.  She was 85 and still travelling the world on her own. A small spritely woman.

I back tracked on the train a few stops so that I could take the number 7 to Flushing, the end of the line in Queens – to the NE of Manhattan. I had read that from the train – part of the subway system but the only thing it was ‘sub’ to was the sky – you could see the different ethnic  communities along the route. Maybe so if you had  x-ray glasses that could see through the factories, run-down buildings, occasional new apartment blocks etc that lined the route. I got to the end and came straight back.  It was a waste of time and I was a bit grumpy when I got to my next destination – still in Queens, but back near Manhattan – an art gallery called PS1 which is an offshoot of MoMA.  A dud. It has 3 floors and some outside of installation space and it was just about all closed for new installations going in. Why the guy I spoke to yesterday at MoMA did not tell me I donot know. The elevator was also not working and my knees are sore. I climbed to the top floor ( there were some black silhouettes on the white walls of the stairwell)  and found the only thing there – a work by James Turrell  ( he who did the green dome thing in the front of the NGA). Trouble is, it was a small room with no roof and what seemed like plywood seats round 3 sides – nothing much in comparison.  The lady in the foyer ( who was also grumpy) said there was more in the basement. More steps! I found the room – an old boiler room with lots of old big machinery – and finally found an inscription. I did not write down the name of the work, but the medium was ‘gold paint and human spit’.  No explanation of the significance.  I looked further and realised that some of the old machinery was painted  in gold paint. 

That is clearly enough for the day I thought, and set off  back to the train station without much thought.  After too long I realised I was walking in the wrong direction and finally got back to the station. I walked along 2  long sides of a very pointy isosceles triangle.  I got off the train at my stop and came up the stairs and realised that at least I can come out the correct ( i.e. closest) exit without thinking now.  The postcards had to be written so I stopped for a coffee and a biscuit –   a good experience.   

Tuesday night Guilio Cesare , Wednesday MoMA

I thoroughly enjoyed the opera last night. It was a mix of comedy, tragedy , wonderful singing, dancing, amazing costumes, interesting, sometimes quirky sets.  It was long – started at 7pm and finished at 11.45 with 2 intervals.  

After a slow start this morning, I went to another area of Central Park to look at a few more bridges. There are less people around in the morning.  Then I stopped in at another wholefood shop I had heard about. It was even better than the last with a huge range of products.

Today’s aim was MoMA – Museum of Modern Art.   I paid my entrance and went to get an audio guide, groaned at all the signs saying ‘ photo id necessary’ . When it was my turn, I politely said I had no photo id, but I did have my National Trust card with my name on it. She said, without any hesitation, ‘that’s fine, we know overseas people often do not have photo id with them’   Quite different to the Whitney  and Morgan Library.

I first looked at the paintings of the artists I have been reading about. There were several Jackson Pollacks, several Piet Mondrians and a few Rothkos. I looked at some other paintings and then it was time for lunch.  I went back and looked at an interesting exhibition of a French architect Henri Labrouste 1801 to 1875. I had never heard of him but he was hugely influential in all sorts of things.  This exhibition focussed on the 2 big libraries ( public I think)  he designed in Paris. He was the first to make spaces for ordinary people to go and read books and to even borrow them. Before that,  books  and libraries were usually only available to people at the institution where the library was  situated e.g. university or church.

I looked at a few more things and was on my way out when I saw in the last gallery – ‘a modern design that is useful ‘ gallery - what looked like a big ball made out of sink plungers all sticking out of a central hub with the black plastic bit on the outside edge. I got closer and saw that the ‘handles’ were bamboo and the outside bits were flat and a bit more complicated.  It is a Mine Kafon Wind-Powered Deminer designed by a Dutch man born in Afghanistan Massoud Hassani in 1983 ( quite young)  . ( Kafon means explosion in Dari) . It rolls over land, powered by the wind, has a GPS chip in it recording the safe path. If it detonates a mine, it partially destructs but is salvageable and easily fixed in the field.  Large scale they expect the cost to be about $40.  How good would that be?

I spent time in MoMA’s gift shop.  I get annoyed with myself every trip. I have enough money to buy each of my family members a nice token from my trip, but not enough confidence or shopping expertise  or colour and style observation to know what is a bit different here and what they would like.  Maybe I am just not good at risk-taking.

I got the subway back to this part and stopped at one of my favourites for coffee and cake. I was going to finish writing postcards, but got talking to another lady who , though a bit younger than me, probably late 40s, travels on her own.  We were talking of the difficulties single women have . She had lived in Switzerland and said that there it was not done to sit in a bar to wait for someone even if only 5 minutes.  She had chosen New York as a city to live in, primarily because of its acceptance of single people. She had read Alain de Botton’s Art of Travelling, as I have,  and agreed with the comments made about the benefits of travelling on your own.

I have changed my guidelines on my café ‘research’ . I have been to the 6 places to get food in my block. 1 is a pub – i.e. emphasis on drinking and OK, but ordinary food. 2 are take aways. Nice, but I can get takeaways in the suburb I live most of my life in.  Of the 4 blocks I can get to by crossing 1 road, I have been to 8 of the 18 eating places.  I will go to a few more if I want to , but I have decided that  I donot have to go to a takeaway just because it is there, nor a noisy pub, nor a new café/restaurant. Tonight I went to one of the small nice places in my block. I think it was a week ago I was there and the lady greeted me  ‘ Hullo, I’m pleased  you’ve come again’ .

Now it is knitting time  before bed– I have a garment on the go , but not socks. The saga of the socks can wait for another time.

Tuesday 30th Eldridge St Museum Synagogue

  

This morning I went to the Lower East Side / Chinatown area again to a museum that I had read about. I went on a tour led by  very well-informed elderly impeccably dressed Jewish lady. 

 Between 1880 and 1920 2 ½ million Eastern European Jews migrated to the NY, specifically the LES. In 1887 a Synagogue was built in which the predominantly Orthodox community could worship.  By the late 1940’s it closed because most of the Jews had moved to Brooklyn and else where , out of the crowded tenement area where migrants first lived when they arrived. It fell into disrepair until the 1970’s ( I think) when it was completely restored to its original state , with the exception of one large  stained  glass window which was installed last year.  It has a combination of Moorish, Gothic and Romanesque architecture- sounds a mish-mash but I quite liked it.  We started on the bottom floor where they had  their weekday services and then looked at the main floor and then the balcony area where  the women were relegated to.  There were photos and other bits of pieces about the past.  Now only the bottom floor is used for all the services, except on special days. Our guide talked about the reasons for different of the Jewish practises. She herself belongs  to a progressive Jewish community. They have a female rabbi.

I went to the Housingworks café for coffee and muffin again. There was a sign on the tables that said the usual – No food from elsewhere,  Don’t just sit using the internet at lunch and also ‘ Please bus your table’  . I had no idea at all. I asked. It means, ‘clear the rubbish off your table and put it in the bin.’ How come? Apparently the people who empty the bins are called ‘bus boys’ , why ?  no-one could tell me.

I wandered rather aimlessly around Soho for a while and then came back here and had a late lunch at a Japanese restaurant (cross 1 street).

This afternoon I wandered around the rambles – another part of Central Park and now I getting ready to go to the opera – Handel’s Guilio Cesare