Tuesday 23 June 2009

Sunny Monday in New YOrk



Finally some decent weather yesterday, sunshine and warm, so off I set just after 9am, in my new Nike 'sneakers' as pounding New York's concrete was taking it's toll on my feet in trail sandals, and I take my camera in search of something. I set off for Times Square, a few blocks east and north. Wasn't sure where after that, but I think that is half of the fun. Times Square, recently pedestrianised, in a fashion, is the mecca for consumerism. Large digital screens decorate and demand the attention of those around them, they even provide deck chairs to sit and watch, and some people sit there and watch ´not sure which is scariest.

I'm approached to buy a ticket for an open top bus - bugger, I must look like a tourist!  I turn down the opportunity, preferring to walk and define my own route. Within a few yards of that I', approached for discounted tickets to 'Chicago' on Broadway, by a rather attractive 'Roxy Hart' publicist. I turn down that opportunity too, the ticket I mean.

I walk down and come across the M&M shop. No that isn't a mis-spelling of M&S, I mean M&M as in those annoying sweets. Three story store of M&M's everything, and I mean everything- yep even toilet paper. Consumerism gone daft. You name it they have M&M stamped, printed or illustrated on it. You can buy the annoying sweets for $12.99 a pound in an colour imaginable, as well as some interesting pre-mixed combinations, baseball colours, basketball colours, Christmas, Halloween, NYPD took my eye - haha, NYFD, different countries - Just had to get out. My niece Amanda informed me later that there is a 'Hershey's' store too, thankfully I missed that one.  

I head East and walk in Chelsea, to find the 'Chelsea Hotel', link below, infamous for being the place that Sid Vicious killed Nancy, as well as being the home of many literary notables. It's a huge imposing great lump of red brickwork, with black wrought iron balconies, the main entrance decorated with brass plaques announcing it's connections with the past. From Chelsea I head into Greenwich Village, allegedly the bohemian sector.  After a while I think that is a fair description (photos to follow). It's pleasant, and it's different, I know I'm not in 'Kansas' anymore, much more like 'Oz' than 'the Toon'.

I walk down through Greewich and into Soho, no not that Soho, although it has it's moments, as I did pass a 'gentleman's club with live poll dancing'. Sitting outside to one were Lou and Jack, a mother and son, both coloured and asked if I could spare a cigarette. They were like everyone else here, courteous and polite, their worldly possessions in an old supermarket trolley. Lou looked about 60, and Jack maybe 40, but who knows, I suspect they were not that old. When they realised I rolled my own they were fascinated, they didn't know you could do that. In the end I gave them my supply, they looked as if they could use it and appreciate it more than me. I asked Lou if I could take their photo, but she said no, very politely, she was too ashamed of being homeless.  They wished me a good day and I continued on my way. Lou and Jack fading into the background of New York, the invisibles, the people so many ignore and pretend they can't see. 

Lunch is a sandwich and a coffee from a deli, which I take to a park I've spotted. I watch the world pass by quickly as mine takes a break. The kamikaze taxis plunder by noisily, the people wander past at various speeds, and a small gathering of sparrows and pigeons arrive to make their bid for any lunchtime leftovers. They eat well from those in the park, one pigeon being particularly large, definitely super-sized, perhaps too many McDonald's, or Dunkin Doughnuts scraps, but I shall keep his picture for the chapter on food. 

Soho is full of fashionable shops, so fashionable they don't put prices on the things in the window, as if you have to ask you can't afford it. I sort of wished I was wearing my knotted hankie, and go and ask the price of things just to be rebellious, but I didn't. The Soho clones walked round in oblivion, with their ipods neatly keeping the world at bay, or their blackberries keeping them in touch with it. One wonders what they did pre-mobile technology.

From Soho into Chinatown and Little Italy. Chinatown bustles like nowhere else, grocery shops, fruit shops, veg shops, fish shops, bakeries, even a dairy, all Chinese and all so throbbing with life, either in what they are selling, or the people who are buying it. The fish gasp for air form their shallow dishes of water, the crabs claw at the air and blow tiny bubbles in their baskets, every other conceivable ingredient is on display, whether it is fresh or dried. 

Into Little Italy, I spot a rather 'sopranoish' looking chap lighting a cigarette on a corner. He gives me a look, and it's not a friendly one, so I don't stop to ask him for a picture, maybe 'The Feds' already have one.

Not long after that I meet Al. Another of New York's homeless. He is sitting quietly with his cup asking for change. I drop some in and then spot the Newcastle Brown Ale logo on his shirt, which makes me laugh. He asks politely what's funny, so I tell him that his t-shirt is advertising a beer from where I am from in England. He smiles and ask if the Queen drinks it? I could shatter his illusion, but I choose not too. He smiles and says it's 'neat'. I ask him for a photo and he smiles and says yes. I ask him what he is listening to on his ipod, he explains it doesn't work, he found it in the bin, but he wears it and imagines the tunes.  

I eventually arrive in the financial district, and find 'Ground Zero', although it is very difficult to see what is happening behind the hoardings, only tiny gaps offer a clue to the enormity of the space left by the atrocity. It's a building site like no other, the size is just overwhelming. I see some vantage points where I could possibly get to to take photos, but I don't want to, it feel like an invasion of privacy. I don't feel any strange atmosphere while I'm there, unlike other places I have visited in the past, it's only on the way back I find a memorial made out of salvaged girders that has been moved temporarily, that I sense any of the grief attributed to the events of 9/11. Meanwhile all around people go about their daily lives, only curious tourists appear to take an interest in the site, as the construction of the new is ongoing. 

I meander my way back to East 34th St, and arrive about 8.20pm. I walked about 160 blocks, not sure how far that actually is, but don't really care, I had a great day, met some lovely people, saw some wonderful sights, and will surely appreciate my bed in the future. 




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