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.
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| 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.
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