It is a strange thing, going to a city as iconic as New York, having been a UK citizen and now residing in the US. If I were to go to New York from say Bristol, there would be the undoubted tingle of excitement boarding the plane to fly across the ocean to a foreign land. Different money, different voices, different food, all the joys of travel that add to the frisson when you get there. And more so going to 'the Big Apple.'
Flying there from Tacoma however, with a year's US living under my belt, I am sad to say there was no such tingle. I was very happy to be going, and very much looking forward to some time in the city with my friends, but it was much more akin to a trip to Manchester from Washington than a pilgrimage to an international icon.
That said, it was a refreshing and exhilarating trip. I have written here about the beautiful art in Tacoma and how much I enjoy taking part in the happenings around town, but there is nothing to match the high end, world class design and fashion in New York. I realized very quickly how much I valued being able to step into the V & A for a few minutes in London, or scoot past the design districts for some real-world visual stimulation.
The whole voyage was added to immensely by the fact that we had hit the weekend of the International Contemporary Furniture Fair (ICFF) and that our friend Silvia, who we were staying with, is deeply entrenched in the world of Italian designer lighting and simply had to attend functions and exhibitions. Naturally, Julia and I went too.
The first day Julia and I met near the New York Times building for breakfast in a 'nice' cafe. Somewhere to clear the head, feel 'nice' and get reacquainted. Then we set off on foot exploring. Grand Central Station was first on the list followed by a meander down to Soho to meet Silvia. I now know why the red-eye flight is called such. A 30 minute nap under a tree was enough to subdue the burning in my head but not enough to dispel it completely.
We wandered the streets enjoying the surroundings and each other. The weather was so hot and humid, I was seriously regretting my decision to wear cowboy boots and woolen socks. But we must suffer for fashion. (I noticed several people on the Subway from JFK through Brooklyn to Manhattan were rather jealous of my boots. I think I'll set up a store there).
As fortune would have it, a mutual school friend of ours also lives in New York now. We managed to meet up with him for tea just after some dental surgery on his wisdom teeth. The dentist had somehow managed to split his lip and pierce his face with a tool, as well as leaving him swollen and numb. So there are understandably no pictures of our visit with Steven! It was very good to see him though, and reassuring to know that even after 10 years, were all still the same at heart.
The evening saw us heading to our first party. Seeing as Julia and I were still in our traveling clothes, we thought it best to just stay out of the way and observe, enjoy the furniture, and learn the etiquette for the next evening which would be the main party.
The ride home turned out to be more eventful than we had planned, with the subways being canceled due to 'Police investigation'. A 20 minute Downtown-late-night search for a cab proceeded with Silvia running into the middle of the road and Julia and I standing back and crossing our fingers! We get in the cab and the cabbie confesses that he doesn't know how to work the car. It is a new hibrid he has been given that day. Congestion slows the passing over the Queens bridge and we see a large artic truck try and ascend a spiral on-ramp...we didn't look back. Around 20 blocks from home, the cab stalls in the middle lane of a stop light intersection. How many cabbies does it take to charge a car battery? More than two!
Saturday starts late and we pretty much just walk and eat, exploring the East side and Little Italy, then on to the site of the Twin Towers. The site itself was a building ground. What struck me was the feeling around it, imagining myself on that day working in one of the buildings. And seeing the memorials to the fallen firefighters on all the fire station doors. Someone asked me before I left, 'Can you really understand what it is like, seeing those towers not there? Or will it be like visiting another tourist site?' The answer is Yes. I can understand. Visualize London without Canary Wharf. Without your friends who work in Canary Wharf. Visualize yourself on the central line trapped in a tunnel while the sky falls in above you. Yes. I can understand. My family are from East Germany. Remember Berlin 1991 (2)? with the scars of the Berlin Wall very much visible in the people's faces. Revisit 5 years later and the wall is cleaned up but still there. Another 5 years and there are actors impersonating SS guards at Check Point Charlie for tourists to have their photo taken with. The scar in my heart burning as we pass them. Yes. I can understand.
That evening's party was on Greene St. We checked in at the narrow door with the PR girl with the list and walk down the thin corridor to the elevator. The call button is pressed and Julia and I are suddenly swamped by most of the Italian population of Soho. The elevator holds maybe 15? All talking Italian. The doors open after an agonizing wait to reveal the consummate New York loft, white walls, open plan, beautiful people. Tony and I had just watched Jeff Goldblum in 'The Fly'. It was reminiscent of his pad there. A waiter stood at the door to offer drinks, the DJ was turning out some Jamiroquai. It was 6.30pm.
We headed to the roof to watch the people and the sun and enjoy the garden chairs. What I found fascinating at all the events we went to was the wide cross section of the design world represented. Architects, designers, buyers, journalists, investors, PAs, sons, daughters, 'hangers on'. And all in varying states of dress. Julia and I certainly felt at home drinking wine from a plastic cup in the $200,000 kitchen. By 9pm we had certainly enjoyed what the beverage center had to offer. We could get used to this.
The night carried on late into the morning. Tacos at midnight accompanied by 80s Europop continued the surreal feel of the day.
Sunday we headed to the Met and Central Park via 5th Ave and the Apple store. We didn't like Central Park. It looked like a landscape ravaged by human occupancy and felt like Oxford St on a Saturday at 12pm. The Met however, was stunning. We passed through the Roman and Greek stuff (British Museum wins there) and headed to the African and Polynesian exhibits. This is an area sorely lacking in most European museums save for some special touring pieces.
In the evening we found ourselves in the Meatpacking District with the great and good but decided to pass on the party and head to the Highline Trail instead. This is an old railway line that has been turned into a public space for city dwellers. It certainly was stunning in the purple sunset with the view across the Hudson to New Jersey.
Monday was our last day. The end of a holiday is always difficult. The freedom of exploration replaced by an impending deadline. We took the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and then wandered around Soho and Greenwich Village soaking up the last of our time together.
We certainly had done the city and ourselves proud.
Click here for more pictures.
