 |
| Our last evening, before Polly left for Manchester and we were seperated... |
 |
| Mems |
 |
 |
 |
|
I'm having a bit of an emotiional moment here, bear with me...
Monday 24 September 2012
Stalker Misses Best Friend
So Polly (my best best friend ever) deserted me for Manchester Uni last week. It was traumatic. I won't discuss it further than that.
I went up to visit her for Friday and Saturday night and had a f a n t a s t i c time. It really made me look forward to heading off to Bristol, but it also made me miss her even more when I got home.
We cause the best kind of chaos when we're together. We should never be seperated.
Gosh.
Declaration of Love
So I'm finally off to Bristol on Saturday. All my friends went off to uni a week ago and I miss them so I'm superduper excited - although a little nervous - and I think that before I go I should do something crazy. Like, something totally mental. I've died the under bit of my hair at the back a really dark brown so that when I tie it up you can see a flash of dark, and it also peeks through when it's down.
However, although this does look, if I say so myself, v cool, and quite 90s grunge with my died blonde hair, it's hardly an act of insane rebellion before I leave for my new student life. So I want to declare my love for someone, too, because it's an insane thing to do and I think will feel liberating or something, and then I'll never see them again. So it won't be embarassing or awful. Is this making sense?
The only problem is that there isn't actually anyone who I have an undying passionate love for who doesn't know. That does rather make it sound like I go about telling people that I have an undying passionate love for them on a regular basis. I don't. I do fall in love randomly with people I see on the bus or the tube or walking down the street or serving me in shops quite a lot, but I rarely declare my love for them (actually, make that never) and I'm actually quite reserved and fussy when it comes to guys incase they're not the The Love of My Life and he's actually standing behind them. (I KNOW. Everyone tells me I'm absurd). My very specific 'type' - consisting predominantly of being Italian - also makes all this undying love malarky a bit tricky.
BUT, when I was on the bus today heading off to Primark to buy 16 mens t-shirts - I got carried away - I saw Allessandro (probably his name) who used to work in my local cafe Nero, where I go a lot, and who is a) Italian and B) VERY ATTRACTIVE and I'd forgotten quite how beautiful he is and quite how much I want to marry him. If I've ever had an unspoken, passionate and undying love for anyone, it's for him. My best friend attempted to make a video of him singing Happy Birthday to me as an 18th birthday present because she knew it would make me lityerally hysterical. That's how much I love him. (He wasn't at work the day she went in with her camera, sadly.)
So, I need to declare my undying and passionate love for him. And the run away. Very fast.
If I see him, I'll do it. Errm...
However, although this does look, if I say so myself, v cool, and quite 90s grunge with my died blonde hair, it's hardly an act of insane rebellion before I leave for my new student life. So I want to declare my love for someone, too, because it's an insane thing to do and I think will feel liberating or something, and then I'll never see them again. So it won't be embarassing or awful. Is this making sense?
The only problem is that there isn't actually anyone who I have an undying passionate love for who doesn't know. That does rather make it sound like I go about telling people that I have an undying passionate love for them on a regular basis. I don't. I do fall in love randomly with people I see on the bus or the tube or walking down the street or serving me in shops quite a lot, but I rarely declare my love for them (actually, make that never) and I'm actually quite reserved and fussy when it comes to guys incase they're not the The Love of My Life and he's actually standing behind them. (I KNOW. Everyone tells me I'm absurd). My very specific 'type' - consisting predominantly of being Italian - also makes all this undying love malarky a bit tricky.
BUT, when I was on the bus today heading off to Primark to buy 16 mens t-shirts - I got carried away - I saw Allessandro (probably his name) who used to work in my local cafe Nero, where I go a lot, and who is a) Italian and B) VERY ATTRACTIVE and I'd forgotten quite how beautiful he is and quite how much I want to marry him. If I've ever had an unspoken, passionate and undying love for anyone, it's for him. My best friend attempted to make a video of him singing Happy Birthday to me as an 18th birthday present because she knew it would make me lityerally hysterical. That's how much I love him. (He wasn't at work the day she went in with her camera, sadly.)
So, I need to declare my undying and passionate love for him. And the run away. Very fast.
If I see him, I'll do it. Errm...
London Fashion Week
So it was London Fashion Week last week, and obvs being the uber fashionista that I am (ahem. Yes.), I managed to obtain an invite to an event that Glam Media were hosting, sponsored by Rimmel. Normally I'm just very much aware that LFW is going on, and think dreamily about the various fashion wonders that are being paraded down the catwalk as I rifle through Charity shops and Hammersmith Vintage Clothes Fair in a vain attempt to recreate them. But not this year!!
Ok, so maybe one morning spent in a very luxurious room in One Aldwych Hotel having my nails done doesn't actually count as having arrived at London Fashion Week, but it's definitely a start.
The event was run specifically for bloggers and so I met loads, who were allmuch cooler than me and knew far more about, well, everything. One, who worked at Dutch Elle, told me that she started as a two month internship, then moved onto six months, and at the end of that was offered a job. You know me, I love a good internship, especially at a glamorous magazine, and I was totally inspired. I'm going to email Lisa and get a reference from her, and some advice on how to apply for a second internship next summer.
Key Trend Spotted: Over-sized 'costume' jewellery with neon. Get on that y'all.
The only colour I ever have on my nails is red, so I went for err, a lovely red, but thought I'd go a bit crazy and have red sparkles over it. This summer, whilst partying in Portugal, I got really very into body glitter. I loved the way it caught the light and made me look like a vampire (because of the way I sparkled in the sun obviously) but when I got back home I thought that couldn't really continue, so this was my last attempt to hold onto the summer. I chose 'Precious Stones' for my top coat and, although it is maybe a little bit Christmassy, it looks fab.
We also went for breakfast at the very classy Delaunay were I had a delicious fruit salad - and the pastries looked a m a z i n g - and a very British pot of tea (with strainer woo). Most exciting, we bought four marshmallows from their shop (don't even ask how much they cost) and they were so yummy it was actually mind blowing. I don't normally like marshmallows because they make me feel like I'm drowning, but even I loved them. Especially the Green Apple flavour. It was so green.
Popping into the Chanel pop up store in Covent Garden probably wasn't the best idea. I totally adore the new purple lipstick. As my friend pointed out, I could become known in Bristol as the girl with the purple lipstick. I like that idea.
It was also not the best idea to pop into the Kurt Geiger store, where 'Everything But The Dress' is in full swing. I literally FELL IN LOVE. How could I not fall in love with Manohlo-esque purple velvet shoes with a gold heel?? The price tag on the new Min is less beautiful so if anyone wants to fund this poor students need for gorgeous footwear, here's where you can find them.
In fact, if someone could just fund this poor student’s need for beautiful purple things, I'd be grateful.
Least glam moment: The Moomin shop, in Covent Garden (which is actually owned by the Finnish Government. When you ring its Foreign Office there's a line for the Moomin shop. True fact). We met actual Moomin. It was an exciting moment for us all.
I sometimes write for online magazine Whatever After - check out my feature on London Fashion Week Nails and my Top Ten Tips for beautiful nails. (Well, only if you want to. You totally don't have to.)
Ok, so maybe one morning spent in a very luxurious room in One Aldwych Hotel having my nails done doesn't actually count as having arrived at London Fashion Week, but it's definitely a start.
The event was run specifically for bloggers and so I met loads, who were allmuch cooler than me and knew far more about, well, everything. One, who worked at Dutch Elle, told me that she started as a two month internship, then moved onto six months, and at the end of that was offered a job. You know me, I love a good internship, especially at a glamorous magazine, and I was totally inspired. I'm going to email Lisa and get a reference from her, and some advice on how to apply for a second internship next summer.
Key Trend Spotted: Over-sized 'costume' jewellery with neon. Get on that y'all.
The only colour I ever have on my nails is red, so I went for err, a lovely red, but thought I'd go a bit crazy and have red sparkles over it. This summer, whilst partying in Portugal, I got really very into body glitter. I loved the way it caught the light and made me look like a vampire (because of the way I sparkled in the sun obviously) but when I got back home I thought that couldn't really continue, so this was my last attempt to hold onto the summer. I chose 'Precious Stones' for my top coat and, although it is maybe a little bit Christmassy, it looks fab.
 |
 |
| A definite look for all my upcoming Bristol Freshers parties at any rate. |
We took liberal advantage of their goodie bags (yesss we all took two. Love, I have a 17 year old sister. I couldn't well go home without one for her could I!?) which were so full of make up, and nail varnish and lipstick that I kept peering into my laden bag with disbelief. My fave gift is the Kate Moss lipstick in shade 107, which is a dark vampy red and my chosen colour for this autumn. It looks particularly hot when worn with a turned up collar on my new grey boyfriend style tweed coat or trusty leather jacket, sunglasses and studded boots - and also with '20s flapper style dresses (of which I own several) for a glam grunge look. I've been wearing Maxfactor Lipstain in shade 06 for a while, but there's nothing like lipstick. I do love a good lipstick, I really do.
With our goodie bags!! We felt like we were on the red carpet
We also went for breakfast at the very classy Delaunay were I had a delicious fruit salad - and the pastries looked a m a z i n g - and a very British pot of tea (with strainer woo). Most exciting, we bought four marshmallows from their shop (don't even ask how much they cost) and they were so yummy it was actually mind blowing. I don't normally like marshmallows because they make me feel like I'm drowning, but even I loved them. Especially the Green Apple flavour. It was so green.
Popping into the Chanel pop up store in Covent Garden probably wasn't the best idea. I totally adore the new purple lipstick. As my friend pointed out, I could become known in Bristol as the girl with the purple lipstick. I like that idea.
It was also not the best idea to pop into the Kurt Geiger store, where 'Everything But The Dress' is in full swing. I literally FELL IN LOVE. How could I not fall in love with Manohlo-esque purple velvet shoes with a gold heel?? The price tag on the new Min is less beautiful so if anyone wants to fund this poor students need for gorgeous footwear, here's where you can find them.
In fact, if someone could just fund this poor student’s need for beautiful purple things, I'd be grateful.
Least glam moment: The Moomin shop, in Covent Garden (which is actually owned by the Finnish Government. When you ring its Foreign Office there's a line for the Moomin shop. True fact). We met actual Moomin. It was an exciting moment for us all.
I sometimes write for online magazine Whatever After - check out my feature on London Fashion Week Nails and my Top Ten Tips for beautiful nails. (Well, only if you want to. You totally don't have to.)
Monday 17 September 2012
Lunch in Greenwich
Greenwich Village is beautiful.
We'd spotted a lovely little restaurant as we drove through Greenwich Village on our open top bus tour the day before, and so we returned after our Boat Tour. all this city sightseeing is hard work you know! You have to keep your strength up.
It was a lovely little local place, with delicious food next, door to a beautiful florist, whose flowers encroached on the restaurant so that it had a gorgeous outdoor seating area, as well as really beautiful gardens. I so wish I could live in NY and know everywhere. Each place I went past I wanted to visit, especially in Greenwich Village, where all the cafes are adorable and little and look like exciting things could happen in them and may well be the favourite place for the Love of My Life to go for coffee.
Added Bonus: The restaurant did gluten free pizza!! I was tres excited, especially as mine tasted exactly the same as my dads gluten containing pizza. New York is great like that.
We'd spotted a lovely little restaurant as we drove through Greenwich Village on our open top bus tour the day before, and so we returned after our Boat Tour. all this city sightseeing is hard work you know! You have to keep your strength up.
It was a lovely little local place, with delicious food next, door to a beautiful florist, whose flowers encroached on the restaurant so that it had a gorgeous outdoor seating area, as well as really beautiful gardens. I so wish I could live in NY and know everywhere. Each place I went past I wanted to visit, especially in Greenwich Village, where all the cafes are adorable and little and look like exciting things could happen in them and may well be the favourite place for the Love of My Life to go for coffee.
Added Bonus: The restaurant did gluten free pizza!! I was tres excited, especially as mine tasted exactly the same as my dads gluten containing pizza. New York is great like that.
After a very lovely, relaxed lunch, we wondered through Greenwich Village. I love that area. I want to live there, or in Chelsea when I live in New York. Yes, well, a girl can dream.
We also spent quite some time at the impromptu Mulry Square memorial to 9/11, which started spontaneously from children's art dedicated to the memory of the victims. It has since grown and gained a protected status, becoming known as Tiles For America. It sits on the corner of 7th Avenue and West 11th Street and is really beautiful. It's very understated and very touching.
The Statue of Liberty
On my familys's second day in the city, we continued to embrace all things toursit and did the water bus (aka boat) tour around Staten Island and all along the tip of Manhattan.
The Circle Line Sight Seeing starts from Pier 57 on the West side and goes all the way past the Statue of Liberty and up to Brooklyn Bridge. It's clearly a massively tourist thing to do and so is quite expensive and is certainly not where you'll be finding any locals, but all visitirs have to do it. The views are increadible and the info our tour guide gave us was all really cool, and well, who doesn't like cruising down the river in the sun??
Seeing the Statue of Liberty from the water was increadible, and very provocative of the memories of past New York. I suddenly realised what it must have felt like for all those immigrants - real people, like Chris and his father - who came to America, seeking freedom and a new life. She stands, so imposing and comforting rising from the water. And yet, so many immigrants were turned away, or sepertaed from their families. Our very knowledgable (and very American) tour guide nearly made me cry as he described the way that, despite America being know as the land of immigrants and the land of hope and freedom, many immigrants were turned away on Staten Island...
I loved exchanging roles so much; I totally embraced my tourist side; look at me taking my tourist snaps. I want to treat London like I'm a tourist.
It was a lovely way to see the city. If you can, totally do it.
You don't have to get the chocolate ice cream with sprinkles for breakfast. Only my sister did that.
We also passed on buying the statue of Libery head gear. Tempting though wning a spiky green foam headband is, I thought I wouldn't get much wera out of it. It was a shame really.
Sunday 16 September 2012
My Family Hit New York
Seeing the family again was actually really emotional!!
I was at the hotel when they arrived and it all went a bit mental. The hotel staff were a bit bemused but, being New Yorkers, acted like we were in a film and sort of joined in. I was half expecting a round of applause.
We settled into the lovely hotel Belleclaire and I danced in the bathroom and spread out on the double bed and generally revelled in the luxury of it all. My parents clearly thought I must have actually lived in a cardboard box on the streets of New York by my reaction. The YMCA was really not that bad and was certainly lots of fun. Please don't let me put you off. Certainly, the bill for my two week stay was nearly the same as the bill for our four night stay in The Belleclaire. Admittedly, there were the four of us, but it does justify the slightly depressing lighting of the YMCA at any rate.
And then we hit New York, all together!! It was so cool, my family all being there. I couldn't quite believe that me and my sister were walking down Broadway together. I kept grabbing her arm and being like, 'omg you're actually here!!' And she was like, yes.
Immedietly we did an Open Top Bus Tour with Grey Line Sightseeing Company, which was lots and lots of fun, especially as I was able to fill in extra bits of info, on top of the tour guide info, for my family, such as '...and that's my fave place for iced coffee and they told me that I have a bautiful accent'. Convinced they loved it.
That evening we went to this tiny little place for sushi. It was a two minute walk from our hotel and clearly very local. It was all buzzy and full of cool people. The food was a m a z i n g and we had such a great catch up.
For pudding we went and got froyo from 16 Handles which is a fab self service place with 16 flavours (gettit?!) and I got really excited and basically got every flavour apart from boring ones like 'natural'. It's actually so great that I've put the link to its website (http://www.16handles.com/) because I want everyone to know all about it and the flavour of the month is salted caramel and ohh to be in New York still... I have got really into froyo since I got back and me and Ellie (of http://elliemaybakes.blogspot.co.uk/) go all the time and I'm going to keep you updated on that because we've become quite the connoisseurs.
We sat outisde in the warm evening and ate our froyo and revelled in being all together. I'd never spent such a long time away from my family, and in particular my sister who had gone to Greece before I went away, and although I had skyped them regularly, it just wasn't the same. Everything was hilarious and as we wondered back to West 77th and our hotel I felt so happy I thought I might cry.
I was at the hotel when they arrived and it all went a bit mental. The hotel staff were a bit bemused but, being New Yorkers, acted like we were in a film and sort of joined in. I was half expecting a round of applause.
We settled into the lovely hotel Belleclaire and I danced in the bathroom and spread out on the double bed and generally revelled in the luxury of it all. My parents clearly thought I must have actually lived in a cardboard box on the streets of New York by my reaction. The YMCA was really not that bad and was certainly lots of fun. Please don't let me put you off. Certainly, the bill for my two week stay was nearly the same as the bill for our four night stay in The Belleclaire. Admittedly, there were the four of us, but it does justify the slightly depressing lighting of the YMCA at any rate.
And then we hit New York, all together!! It was so cool, my family all being there. I couldn't quite believe that me and my sister were walking down Broadway together. I kept grabbing her arm and being like, 'omg you're actually here!!' And she was like, yes.
 |
| Vix and I, on our first Open Top Bus Tour. Happy days. |
That evening we went to this tiny little place for sushi. It was a two minute walk from our hotel and clearly very local. It was all buzzy and full of cool people. The food was a m a z i n g and we had such a great catch up.
For pudding we went and got froyo from 16 Handles which is a fab self service place with 16 flavours (gettit?!) and I got really excited and basically got every flavour apart from boring ones like 'natural'. It's actually so great that I've put the link to its website (http://www.16handles.com/) because I want everyone to know all about it and the flavour of the month is salted caramel and ohh to be in New York still... I have got really into froyo since I got back and me and Ellie (of http://elliemaybakes.blogspot.co.uk/) go all the time and I'm going to keep you updated on that because we've become quite the connoisseurs.
We sat outisde in the warm evening and ate our froyo and revelled in being all together. I'd never spent such a long time away from my family, and in particular my sister who had gone to Greece before I went away, and although I had skyped them regularly, it just wasn't the same. Everything was hilarious and as we wondered back to West 77th and our hotel I felt so happy I thought I might cry.
Saturday Morning Vintage Shopping In NY
So Rain left. I went for a swim and had a shower and then hailed a taxi - my second in one day!!! I was so excited - and then crippled the driver with my embarrassingly big suitcase. I did warn him that it was heavy but he said that he was 'pretty strong' and then picked it up and said 'Jeeesus that is heavy'. And I was like, well yeah. I was there for over two weeks!!
It was mortifying having to get someone to help me get it off the luggage carousel when I arrived though.
Anyway, I went to the hotel that me and my family, who were flying out that day, had booked and dumped my bag with the very lovely concierge (who my dad later became, like, best friends with) and got a bit excited about how luxurious it looked in comparison to the YMCA. It was quite luxurious but, looking back, probably not quite as luxurious as my poor hostel-bathroom-sharing accustomed brain thought at the time.
Then I went vintage shopping.
Ohh I felt like such a local!!
(NB: getting really emotional remembering it all. I want to be there now!! I bet it's beautiful this time of year, with all the trees in Central Park just on the cusp of autumn...)
I went to the Chelsea vintage market 'The Garage' which is taken over by all things vintage on the week end so that the cars that fill it during the week have to retreat. I spent ages wondering about and chatting to the owners. They were all lovely, especially the eccentric, jewelled cat eye glasses sporting seller of several beautiful 1920s dresses (all sadly very much out of my price range) who encouraged me try on a fantastic beaded number from the 80s even though she knew I totally couldn't afford it. I swirled about it and we discussed the difference between British and American vintage and how much I love the flapper style and my love of all things 20s and she 'simply adooored' my accent. It was all very jolly.
I got really into the idea of long silk slips worn as summer dresses which would have looked lovely and whimsical on balmy Portugal evenings. Amazingly, I managed to restrain myself. I didn't even buy this gorgeous red mohair jumper!! It was very sad but I thought that really, given the taxi drivers reaction to my bag, I couldn't possibly get any more into it, especially given my v heavy Harper's book and new romper. It was an amazing act of restraint for me, given my past vintage shopping history, and my mum couldn't quite believe it.
After a good hour of vintage immersed happiness I went for coffee at a lovely place opposite Billy's Bakery, where all the locals were eating pancakes. I sat outside and got coffee and watched the world go by.
It was mortifying having to get someone to help me get it off the luggage carousel when I arrived though.
Anyway, I went to the hotel that me and my family, who were flying out that day, had booked and dumped my bag with the very lovely concierge (who my dad later became, like, best friends with) and got a bit excited about how luxurious it looked in comparison to the YMCA. It was quite luxurious but, looking back, probably not quite as luxurious as my poor hostel-bathroom-sharing accustomed brain thought at the time.
Then I went vintage shopping.
Ohh I felt like such a local!!
(NB: getting really emotional remembering it all. I want to be there now!! I bet it's beautiful this time of year, with all the trees in Central Park just on the cusp of autumn...)
I went to the Chelsea vintage market 'The Garage' which is taken over by all things vintage on the week end so that the cars that fill it during the week have to retreat. I spent ages wondering about and chatting to the owners. They were all lovely, especially the eccentric, jewelled cat eye glasses sporting seller of several beautiful 1920s dresses (all sadly very much out of my price range) who encouraged me try on a fantastic beaded number from the 80s even though she knew I totally couldn't afford it. I swirled about it and we discussed the difference between British and American vintage and how much I love the flapper style and my love of all things 20s and she 'simply adooored' my accent. It was all very jolly.
I got really into the idea of long silk slips worn as summer dresses which would have looked lovely and whimsical on balmy Portugal evenings. Amazingly, I managed to restrain myself. I didn't even buy this gorgeous red mohair jumper!! It was very sad but I thought that really, given the taxi drivers reaction to my bag, I couldn't possibly get any more into it, especially given my v heavy Harper's book and new romper. It was an amazing act of restraint for me, given my past vintage shopping history, and my mum couldn't quite believe it.
After a good hour of vintage immersed happiness I went for coffee at a lovely place opposite Billy's Bakery, where all the locals were eating pancakes. I sat outside and got coffee and watched the world go by.
My coffee came with a heart and I realised how deeply I'd fallen in love with New York.
It was weird, as I sat there contemplating my time in New York, I realised that my independent time as a near local was coming to an end. I'd promised to show my family my favourite bits of the city, but I knew that I would become a tourist. The night before me and Rain had tried to think of best and worst bits (which I always do when I go on holiday) and I think it says something that we couldn't decide what our favourite bit was (too many) and simply couldn't think of a worst bit. Going through security at JFK?? Even that was no where near as bad as I thought it would be.
I was sooooo looking forward to seeing may parents and my sister and telling them everything and, I know it sounds cringey, but I was really proud of myself. I smugly sipped my coffee and then headed back to the hotel, savouring my last few hours as an independent New Yorker. But don't worry; I'll return as an independent New Yorker. Have no doubt about that.
Rain Leaves and New York Weeps #2 - Adoption and Other Stuff Occurs in New York
So Chris adopted us. We were lost and he was cycling the same way and so he led us all the way back to the bike hire shop, along the river and through the safest roads. He told us that 'when I go you go, when I stop you stop' and we'd be totally safe and wouldn't get run over.
Which we were.
He was so great.
I know this sounds a little dangerous but he was so clearly not an axe murder and wasn't creepy at all but just really lovely. I would say not to be too trusting, but at the same time being too cynical is sad and we were in a really busy area so he couldn't kidnap us without being seen.
Chris was an American Greek who moved to New York when he was eight and who's father had 50 cents in his pocket when he arrived. His grown up daughter had just gone on holiday for the first time to the tiny island that he had left in search of a better life and he was clearly in need of a daughter (or two) to look after. He grew up in Greenwich Village, next door to Robert de Niro and remembered when the city was all three storey appartment buildings and hated the new high rise skyscrapers thta dominate the city and 'block out the sun'. He had worked in the Dakota building and saw John Lennon's blood and was never a fan of 'that Yoko Ono one'. He had been in the army and thought that the New York Military Hospital symbolised all that was great about America.
He was, I'm positive, my favourite person that I met in New York. Bold statement I know.
Rain's last night was spent in Cafe Wha? (Our fave. we loved having a fave. Especially such a cool, underground fave). We had THE BEST time.
We sat right at the front and the amazingly cool lead singer winked at us before he began swaggering about the tiny stage. He wore nail varnish and told the audience to never take any bullshit and to always be happy with who you are. I cheered.
There was a woman getting married the next day and we all celebrated 'real love' and I fell even further in love with the idea of falling in love in New York and then getting married in New York too. There was a birthday party too and so we all sang happy birthday and everyone was mental. The band sang at us to 'get up, stand up' and 'fucking dance' because if beautiful English girls weren't going to dance, who were?? We obliged, and joined the crowded dance floor for Twist and Shout, and did the twist, and shouted. I love New York.
Which we were.
He was so great.
I know this sounds a little dangerous but he was so clearly not an axe murder and wasn't creepy at all but just really lovely. I would say not to be too trusting, but at the same time being too cynical is sad and we were in a really busy area so he couldn't kidnap us without being seen.
Chris was an American Greek who moved to New York when he was eight and who's father had 50 cents in his pocket when he arrived. His grown up daughter had just gone on holiday for the first time to the tiny island that he had left in search of a better life and he was clearly in need of a daughter (or two) to look after. He grew up in Greenwich Village, next door to Robert de Niro and remembered when the city was all three storey appartment buildings and hated the new high rise skyscrapers thta dominate the city and 'block out the sun'. He had worked in the Dakota building and saw John Lennon's blood and was never a fan of 'that Yoko Ono one'. He had been in the army and thought that the New York Military Hospital symbolised all that was great about America.
He was, I'm positive, my favourite person that I met in New York. Bold statement I know.
Rain's last night was spent in Cafe Wha? (Our fave. we loved having a fave. Especially such a cool, underground fave). We had THE BEST time.
We sat right at the front and the amazingly cool lead singer winked at us before he began swaggering about the tiny stage. He wore nail varnish and told the audience to never take any bullshit and to always be happy with who you are. I cheered.
There was a woman getting married the next day and we all celebrated 'real love' and I fell even further in love with the idea of falling in love in New York and then getting married in New York too. There was a birthday party too and so we all sang happy birthday and everyone was mental. The band sang at us to 'get up, stand up' and 'fucking dance' because if beautiful English girls weren't going to dance, who were?? We obliged, and joined the crowded dance floor for Twist and Shout, and did the twist, and shouted. I love New York.
Then the Latin American music started and everyone went even more mental and there was this beautiful women with waist length blonde hair who pulled me and Rain towards her and made us dance the salsa with her. I can't do that (I can just about bop in time to a beat) and looked like a hippo washing in mud next to her, but we had fun and she was lovely and gorgeous and I told her boyfriend so. She kissed me three times on the cheek. I love New York.
We took the subway and danced home, and soaked up the magic of New York so that it would always live in our bones.
Rain leaving the next morning (very early; we were not a pretty site) was horribly emotional but I did get to hail a taxi for Rain which was fun and I (once again) felt like I was in a film, and ticked off a life ambition on my Bucket List. Next; hail a yellow taxi, jump in and shout 'FOLLOW THAT TAXI!'
I'll keep you updated on that.
Friday 7 September 2012
Saying Goodbye.
On Rain's last day in New York we decided that we had to do something amazing and unforgettable to say goodbye to the city we'd so rapidly fallen in love with.
So we decided to hire bikes. There is no better way to say goodbye to a city than to cycle through it.
We started in Central Park (which was quite a scary experience because there's this really aggressive but utterly complex one way traffic system IN THE PARK and all the roller bladers and runners get really quite angry if you accidentally find yourself on the wrong side of the road) and then we cut all the way from the park across Broadway along West 97th Street to the Hudson River.
There was a woman getting married the next day and we all celebrated 'real love' and I fell even further in love with the idea of falling in love in New York. There was a birthday party too and so we all sang happy birthday and everyone was a bit mad. The band sang at us to 'get up, stand up' and told us to 'fucking dance! Because if beautiful English girls weren't going to dance, who were??'. We obliged, and joined the crowded dance floor for Twist and Shout, and did the twist, and shouted. I love New York.
So we decided to hire bikes. There is no better way to say goodbye to a city than to cycle through it.
We started in Central Park (which was quite a scary experience because there's this really aggressive but utterly complex one way traffic system IN THE PARK and all the roller bladers and runners get really quite angry if you accidentally find yourself on the wrong side of the road) and then we cut all the way from the park across Broadway along West 97th Street to the Hudson River.
 |
| Here I am, at the Hudson River. On my bike. In New York. Wearing striped high waisted shorts. Life is jolly. |
We then cycled all the way along the river, stopping off for iced coffee in the shadow of The Freedom Tower - still in the midst of triumphantly rising from the gap left in the New York skyline - in the Financial District, where lots of stressed looking men and women in suits (who were undoubtedly v jel of of our fun filled day involving bikes with baskets and sunglasses) were scurrying like ants.
Across Brooklyn Bridge we went, which was even better not in the rain. The sky scrapers take on a majestic quality from the removed position in the middle of the East River, the sheer scale of it audacious. Despite it being our second viewing, we were once again awed into an embarassing tourist silence.
Crossing into Brooklyn was cool. Like, seriously, COOL. I think it's amazing the way each part of New York has it's own unique and highly identifiable character and atmosphere - you really can live a thousand lives in one day. Brooklyn is more chilled than Manhattan; the edgier, more stoned, more laid back, dressed-in-second-hand-thrift-store-clothes kid sister to the uber chic, frantically fashionable, desperately busy Manhattan.
We drifted past games of basket balls and lounging kids on steps towards Dumbo, the area between Brooklyn and Williamsburg Bridge which is renound for being, well, cool. We cycled down Jay Street, past a group of guys with long hair jamming with guitars in their red van. Achingly cool patroners, mainly wearing John Lennon sunglasses, sat on missmatching funiture drinking coffee outside bars that, I just know, turn into hotbeds of excitement and music and debauchery and love when darkness falls and the city lights twinkle twice across the river.
We sat in the newly renovated water side park and admired Manhattan from a distance; I especially liked the way we could see both bridges - it lended a circularity to the city, which I enjoyed - and so it was decided that our day of adventure would not be complete without cycling over Williamsburg Bridge too. Besides, during the dog walks of my childhood Daddy would always insist on a circular route though Richmond Park, and has imbedded in me a desire to never retread my footsteps.
So we got back on the bikes and headed off, all very Olympic spirited I felt. Flying the flag for Team GB, us.
Across Brooklyn Bridge we went, which was even better not in the rain. The sky scrapers take on a majestic quality from the removed position in the middle of the East River, the sheer scale of it audacious. Despite it being our second viewing, we were once again awed into an embarassing tourist silence.
Crossing into Brooklyn was cool. Like, seriously, COOL. I think it's amazing the way each part of New York has it's own unique and highly identifiable character and atmosphere - you really can live a thousand lives in one day. Brooklyn is more chilled than Manhattan; the edgier, more stoned, more laid back, dressed-in-second-hand-thrift-store-clothes kid sister to the uber chic, frantically fashionable, desperately busy Manhattan.
We drifted past games of basket balls and lounging kids on steps towards Dumbo, the area between Brooklyn and Williamsburg Bridge which is renound for being, well, cool. We cycled down Jay Street, past a group of guys with long hair jamming with guitars in their red van. Achingly cool patroners, mainly wearing John Lennon sunglasses, sat on missmatching funiture drinking coffee outside bars that, I just know, turn into hotbeds of excitement and music and debauchery and love when darkness falls and the city lights twinkle twice across the river.
We sat in the newly renovated water side park and admired Manhattan from a distance; I especially liked the way we could see both bridges - it lended a circularity to the city, which I enjoyed - and so it was decided that our day of adventure would not be complete without cycling over Williamsburg Bridge too. Besides, during the dog walks of my childhood Daddy would always insist on a circular route though Richmond Park, and has imbedded in me a desire to never retread my footsteps.
So we got back on the bikes and headed off, all very Olympic spirited I felt. Flying the flag for Team GB, us.
We paused at Williamsburg Bridge-end to consult the map and immediately Chris adopted us. We hadn't planned our new route; we were lost and he was cycling the same way, so he led us all the way back to the bike hire shop, along the river and through the safest roads. He told us that 'when I go you go, when I stop you stop' and we'd be totally safe and wouldn't get run over.
Which we were, and we didn't.
He was so great.
Chris was an American Greek who moved to New York when he was eight and who's father had 50 cents in his pocket when he arrived. His grown up daughter had just gone on holiday for the first time to the tiny island that he had left in search of a better life and he was clearly in need of a daughter (or two) to look after. He grew up in Greenwich Village, next door to Robert de Niro and remembered when the city was all three storey appartment buildings and hated the new high rise skyscrapers that dominate the city and 'block out the sun'. He had worked in the Dakota building and saw John Lennon's blood and was 'never a fan of that Yoko Ono one'. He had been in the army and thought that the New York Military Hospital symbolised all that was great about America.
He was, I'm positive, my favourite person that I met in New York. Big claims.
Rain's last night was spent in Cafe Wha? (Our fave. We loved having a fave. Especially such a cool, underground fave). We had THE BEST time.
We sat right at the front and the amazingly cool lead singer winked at us before he began swaggering about the tiny stage. He wore nail varnish and told the audience to never take any bullshit and to always be happy with who you are. I cheered.
He was so great.
Chris was an American Greek who moved to New York when he was eight and who's father had 50 cents in his pocket when he arrived. His grown up daughter had just gone on holiday for the first time to the tiny island that he had left in search of a better life and he was clearly in need of a daughter (or two) to look after. He grew up in Greenwich Village, next door to Robert de Niro and remembered when the city was all three storey appartment buildings and hated the new high rise skyscrapers that dominate the city and 'block out the sun'. He had worked in the Dakota building and saw John Lennon's blood and was 'never a fan of that Yoko Ono one'. He had been in the army and thought that the New York Military Hospital symbolised all that was great about America.
He was, I'm positive, my favourite person that I met in New York. Big claims.
Rain's last night was spent in Cafe Wha? (Our fave. We loved having a fave. Especially such a cool, underground fave). We had THE BEST time.
We sat right at the front and the amazingly cool lead singer winked at us before he began swaggering about the tiny stage. He wore nail varnish and told the audience to never take any bullshit and to always be happy with who you are. I cheered.
There was a woman getting married the next day and we all celebrated 'real love' and I fell even further in love with the idea of falling in love in New York. There was a birthday party too and so we all sang happy birthday and everyone was a bit mad. The band sang at us to 'get up, stand up' and told us to 'fucking dance! Because if beautiful English girls weren't going to dance, who were??'. We obliged, and joined the crowded dance floor for Twist and Shout, and did the twist, and shouted. I love New York.
Then the Latin American music started and everyone went even more mad and there was this beautiful women with waist length blonde hair who pulled me and Rain towards her and made us dance the salsa with her. I can't do that (I can just about bop in time to a beat) and looked like a hippo washing in mud next to her, but we had fun and she was lovely and gorgeous and I told her boyfriend so. She kissed me three times on the cheek. I love New York.
We took the subway and danced home, and soaked up the magic of New York so that it would always live in our bones.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)