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.