Almanac Travel: Travel Shorts NYC #7

 

Monday 31 August 8am. Labor Day USA.  To whoever is still reading this drivel, a big thanks for the feedback, and I apologise if I keep saying things like ‘best day ever’ etc but there seems to be no end to the excitement here.

 

Yesterday we headed off early to Times Square to get the bus to Harlem. The guide was a retired Harlem teacher and she was superb. Excellent insights into the history of Harlem’s formation from ‘black elitist’ to the difficult drug and slum days of the 60s and 70s.

 

Visual surprises everywhere and classic NY architecture. The highlight had to be the chapel that we piled into. It was a Pentecostal, full blown gospel church. The music was pumping and as soon as we got into our pew Lynda burst into tears. It was the first time tears flowed since we walked into The Cavern in Liverpool three years ago and came across two brothers singing pitch perfect Lennon/McCartney and we lost it!

 

The music was powerful and intoxicating. As an atheist, it was hard NOT to believe! These people were so beautiful and passionate. For a moment there I wanted to do a John Belushi and ‘flick flack’  Blues Brothers –style down the aisle! Thought better of it given my hammy’s and calves would have snapped!

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the tour we went to a place we know in 8^th St Broadway where you can get awesome salads. $5 gets your choice of five things put in a stainless bowl, add some dressing and whipped by hand with a wooden spoon. In 1 minute it’s all put in a plastic bowl and you’re done! So healthy and quick. Perfect for the CBD and the antithesis of regular NYC food.

 

 

We then took off to Grand Central Station to get the F train to The Met. There was a Brazilian festival going on in Times Square with about a million people going off, so we detoured a bit. Grand Central is stunning and so is the Chrysler Building which sits a block away. The closer you get, you can see the eagles heads popping out the side. At this stage it’s about 32 degrees and 70% humidity so by the time we get to the Met I’m dripping. Don’t do humidity at all.

 

 

 

 

 

The Met was sensational and we were there for two hours. Only problem was we didn’t discover the Van Gogh’s, Monet’s and other impressionists until there was fifteen mins left so we will try and get back again and take it all in. All the contemporary stuff was great but my highlight was an entire living room transported from a house in the Midwest. It was designed by the brilliant Guggenheim architect Frank Lloyd Wright. Beautiful, calm, minimalist 60s style that he is renowned for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the Met we thought we’d go downtown to Chinatown but changed our mind when I found another movie site of interest for Taxi Driver. It was marked corner of Park Ave and E 28^th St. and it was the Bellmore Cafeteria. This is clearly where De Niro takes Jodie Foster for some pie and coffee in order to convince her that teenage prostitution wasn’t a viable vocation for a 13 year old.

 

Unfortunately the café is now a nail manicure place. I asked a café owner next door as well as the nail place regarding the building’s history but they were both too young and were probably too scared to have any sort of conversation with a sweaty hairy beast from Australia with a maniacal look in his eyes!

 

We then headed to the Flatiron district and got a photo of that magnificent building. Area was full of uni students and we headed to the blue train subway via the Chelsea Hotel. It hasn’t changed at all over the years and has plaques commemorating some of the great writers and artists that lived there.

 

 

 

 

Heading down the road for the annual Labor day celebrations today with the Jamaican quarter of Brooklyn. The thing about New York is its unpredictability. God knows what we will see today, and I must say I’m becoming more a grumpy New Yorker each day. I know I’m a grumpy Melbournian at the best of times, but I’ve taken to hip and shouldering people out of the way if they pause for too long.

 

Even after I’ve bumped them out of the way and THEY apologise, I simply choose to ignore it and move on! What sort of an asshole am I becoming! The other thing I’m doing is ordering tourists to MOVE DOWN! in a crowded subway carriage. I’m becoming Harvey Keitel!

 

Speaking of which, a nut-bag in the subway yesterday could have been Harvey. Red shorts, red singlet, fit, holding a cross made from mirrors, carrying a suitcase and a possessing shocking mullet going halfway down his back.

 

 

He was ranting at the top of his voice about being a ‘saviour’ called The Earth Angel and that any women turning as much as one minute past twenty one years of age will be damned unless he ‘helps them!’ Of course! Why didn’t I think of that!

 

Every time I tried to take a photo he held up a red piece of cardboard to hide his face. He would smile at me then drop into this demonic booming voice warning all twenty year old women of the impending doom…unless of course he is let into your life! 

 

“Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet Harvey my saviour. I’m moving in with him, the other twelve girls he has saved and his ten children. Oh, and also…. I’m pregnant. Finally we’re a bit short on cash and Harvey’s post office job isn’t really cutting the mustard, so could you give us…(whispers “how much Harv?” He replies, “$20,000”) $20,000, thanks Dad love you!   CRRuuuuunch!! (The sound of Dad’s axe careering into Harvey’s cranium!)

 

Oh and if you ever wonder why there’s not many people in a subway carriage, it’s for a reason. Our carriage on the way home had a big spew that had taken up the middle section. “Not my spew, not my poo, not my wee, not my business”. The New Yorker’s Mantra.  Hope all’s well love Willow and Lynda.

 

 

To read more from Ian Wilson click here.

 

 

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