Saturday 15 November 2014

Five literary spots to visit in the UK

This is re-posted from my other blog where I talk libraries, books and writing...as it's about travel too, I thought I'd share here too.

Yesterday I spotted a Buzzfeed article on “19 British Places all Book Lovers Must Visit”. It’s a great list, and I was slightly ashamed to have only made it to four of them, but it did miss out some of my personal favourites…so here are five UK literary spots I’d add to the list: 

The West Yorkshire Moors
Although they all left home at various points in their lives, the Bronte sisters were all very much attached to their home of Haworth (itself now a much-visited destination, featured in the Buzzfeed list) and the West Yorkshire Moors are a major feature of most of their novels, perhaps most famously in Charlotte’s Jane Eyre and Emily’s Wuthering Heights. You don’t even have to brave the elements to enjoy this literary setting; take the train from Leeds to Manchester and you’ll be certain you spotted the imposing Wuthering Heights up on a cliff amongst the breathtaking scenery.

St Peter’s Church, Bournemouth 
If you know me well, you’ll know that Mary Shelley was always going to feature in this list! She is buried in the graveyard here, along with her mother, the famous feminist Mary Wollstonecraft, her father, the philosopher William Godwin, and the heart of her husband, the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (he died in a storm at sea and his rotting body was recovered and cremated…it is said that his heart did not burn, and Mary took it and kept it in her desk drawer, where it was discovered by her adult children after she died). As a Mary Shelley fan, this was a bit of a pilgrimage for me. If you fancy a drink after a wander around the churchyard, there's a Wetherspoons called The Mary Shelley next door!
  
St Pancras Old Church, London
Just one more Mary Shelley one, I promise! She grew up in Somers town and her mother was originally buried in the graveyard here (first Mary’s remains were moved to Bournemouth after the second Mary’s death). Mary would often visit her mother’s grave to think and to write, and after she met Percy Bysshe Shelley, this is where they would meet in secret (he being married already). It was here that they admitted their love for each other and, it is suggested, erm…acted on this (well, they didn’t really have anywhere else to go!). There is still a memorial stone for Mary Wollstonecraft here but I have never been able to locate it; however I love walking round the churchyard, following in Mary’s footsteps.
  
Perrott’s Folly and Edgbaston Waterworks, Birmingham
I grew up in north Birmingham, and as a teenager I played trombone in a jazz band which met on the south side of the city every Monday night. I was a bit of a Lord of the Rings fan, reading the books around the time that the films came out, and one evening my Dad took us on a detour home, to see Perrott’s Folly, which is said to be one of two towers in Edgbaston (the second being Edgbaston Waterworks) which inspired Tolkien’s Two Towers. There’s no solid evidence that this is true, and there are many articles and blog posts out there arguing otherwise, but as someone with an active imagination, I loved standing there and thinking about how Tolkien may have pulled these ordinary industrial urban features into his fantasy land.  I’m no longer a LoTR fan but I’d still argue it’s a must-visit for those who are.
Newnham College, Cambridge
The poet Sylvia Plath first came to England on a scholarship to Cambridge University, studying at this women-only college. She wrote lots and published work in the student newspaper, and it was while she was here that she met and married Ted Hughes. I discovered Sylvia Plath, as many girls do, when I was about 17 years old, and around this time I went on a school trip where we stayed overnight at Newnham College, learning about life at the university. I was completely taken by the idea that I was wandering the same corridors that Sylvia Plath had, and that perhaps I or one of my friends were staying in her very room...

Tuesday 29 July 2014

Corfu, Greece




Every July I go away for a week somewhere hot and sunny, to ensure that whatever happens with the British weather, I will get at least a few days of sun! I wasn’t sure where to go this year, so I did a bit of searching, and cheap apartments and hotels on the Greek island of Corfu kept coming up, so, having never been to Greece before, I decided to give it a go.

I wouldn’t normally go for an apartment as it feels like too much space for one person, but this was by far the cheapest option accommodation-wise this time. I booked in at Minore Apartments in Messonghi, in the south of the island. I was initially a bit concerned that there were no TripAdvisor reviews for this place (there is one now!), but I reasoned that most people will generally only bother putting reviews on TA if something is very good or very bad, so there was probably nothing to worry about. It turned out to be a great decision; the studio apartment was basic but had everything I needed, it had a balcony with a bit of a sea-view, it was a few minutes’ walk from the sand and the beach-side restaurants and bars. And the owner was fantastic; I had emailed to ask if they could help me to arrange an airport transfer, as I was finding them expensive and their blurb on the booking pages said that they could help with this; their aid was actually the owner himself turning up to collect me from the airport, and dropping me back there the next week, and refusing to accept any payment for it! Once settled in on the Wednesday night that I arrived, I relaxed on my balcony drinking some local beer and listening to the Greek music drifting up from the tavern below, watching the sun set over the sea, and ready to start my holiday.

I spent Thursday lazily, just adjusting to being on holiday; lots of lying on the sand, swimming in the gorgeous but chilly sea, and eating and drinking: gyros (legitimate doner kebab!) and Greek beer for lunch, and prawns in tomato and ouzo sauce and feta cheese, with local wine, and baklava for dessert, for dinner…yum. My initial impressions of Corfu? How green it was…it looked like a tropical island with the forest enveloping the hills. I was also struck by the friendliness of everyone I had encountered that day; in the  restaurants and the shops they welcomed me to Corfu, and no one questioned or commented on the fact that I was alone. 


On the way back to the apartment that evening I stopped off at the supermarket to buy some bottled water (tap water in Corfu should not be drunk) and local wine to drink on my balcony, and was presented with a shot of kumquat, the local liqueur, at the till – lovely, but bizarre!
 
I had decided to take a boat trip on Friday. There are several travel centres in the area but the TripAdvisor Messonghi forum suggested that it was cheaper to go down to the Messonghi River in the early evening and book direct with the boat owners, so on Thursday night before dinner I had done this, booking with Captain Homer, again on the recommendation of posters on the TA forum. The trip departed at 10am, sailing out from the beautiful river and south along the coast. The Captain and his wife were both welcoming and friendly – again, no comment about me being on my own – and there was a really lovely atmosphere to the whole trip. Our first stop was Petriti, a little fishing village, which was wonderfully isolated and peaceful; boats, sand, a solitary taverna, a few people walking along the road every so often. I took lots of photos! Back on the boat, we headed out into deeper water for a swimming stop – blissful – being greeted with a little cup of ouzo and lemon after clambering back up the ladder; it was only 11.30 in the morning, but it was perfect after a swim! Another swimming stop in shallower water – a bit chilly – and it was time for lunch; a delicious spread prepared by our host – Greek salad, tuna salad, bread and olive oil and tsatsiki, with some local wine to wash it all down with. It was all very lovely.


Our final stop was at Notos, which was like a tropical paradise; palm trees and flowers everywhere, hammocks to laze in at your leisure, and the sound of crickets filling the air. I climbed up the hill for a bit to enjoy the view, then chilled out in a hammock until it was time to board the boat again to head back to Messonghi – a glorious way to spend the afternoon.


We arrived back at 4pm and I was left really sleepy – must have been all that sea air – so I went back to the apartment for a nap before heading out for dinner; sofrito, beef in garlic sauce, a Cofriot speciality, and then back to the apartment to chill out on the balcony with a book.

I slept badly (partly due to an epic dream in which I was in the Hunger Games!) and didn’t wake until late on Saturday, so I decided to have another lazy day; beach, swim, food, wander. In the evening I walked along the beach after night had fallen and there was the most beautiful full moon, shimmering over the water; I tried to take photos on both my camera and my phone but sadly I couldn’t get any of them to come out. I stopped at the supermarket for water and wine again and was once again given kumquat at the till; I could get used to that!

On Sunday I woke up with my skin feeling a bit dry and sore, despite all the suncream and aftersun I’d been using, so I decided to stay off the beach today to give it a bit of a break. In the morning I walked up to a little village called Chlomotiana; a very steep two-mile climb from the Messonghi-Moraitika road, but one which is totally worth it for the amazing views and the pretty village at the top. It’s a proper little Greek village; white houses, flowers everywhere, old women in traditional clothing chatting in the street (I would really have liked to take a photo of them but felt it would be too rude to do so without asking, and my Greek is pretty much non-existant!). I found a café and sat outside with a couple of other tourists and some locals, drinking my first (and last) Greek coffee – disgusting stuff, like the granules left at the bottom of a filter coffee mixed with sugar – no wonder it’s always served with a glass of water! After taking a few more photos, I headed back down, walking into Moraitika to have a wander and some lunch. 



My plan for the afternoon was more walking, this time to Boukari; I had read that it was a pleasant three-mile walk along the coastal road. However, not realising this meant the minor road right by the shore, I walked along the main road and ended up heading inland on a very steep climb…after a while of panting my way around another corner to find yet another winding hill, I realised I’d very much taken a wrong turn! It was such a trek and scorching hot, but the views of the coast were wonderful, as were the close-up views of the forest and crags as I climbed higher, so I kept going for a while! After all of that the lure of a swim in the cool blue water was too strong, so I reneged on my plan to stay off the beach and went for a quick late afternoon dip.


After dinner I decided to treat myself to a cocktail in one of the beach bars, choosing one – “Barocco” - with lots of comfy-looking sofas and cushions right on the beach. It turned out to be a gorgeous way to spend the evening; sipping a cheap but strong Black Russian, watching the sun set over the sea. Feeling very blissed-out, I headed to the supermarket for my usual bottled water and shot of kumquat before taking up position on my balcony. It was World Cup final night – Germany vs. Argentina – and I heard a cheer rise from the village; there were lots of German tourists around!

I got up early on Monday to catch the bus into Corfu Town.  I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing with the bus, but I figured if I stood at a bus stop and got on a green bus that stopped there, it would all work out! It turned out to be a very organised operation, with a conductor on the bus taking fares and giving change. It was just 2 euros and 20 cents for the 25 kilometre journey, which is super-cheap compared to bus fares in England! The journey took just under an hour and followed the coast for most of the way, so I was glad I had deliberately selected a seat on the sea-side of the bus just in case – it was a gorgeous view.

(It’s worth noting that, although there is officially no bus service from Corfu Airport, this bus was letting people off a few roads away, by the Avis car hire, and picked people up from there too on the way back).

In the bus station I picked up a map and a bus timetable, intending to take my usual approach of just wandering around to explore the town. First I came across the magnificent New Fortress, then the port; brilliant blue sea, with gigantic cruise ships parked up, and ferries arriving, I think from the mainland. I then found myself in the Old Town, where I was continuously taking photos – so pretty! It reminded me a lot of the nooks and crannies of Naples last year. There were lots of shops selling jewellery, trinkets, olive oil etc. too. I found St Spyridon’s Church (the patron saint of Corfu) but couldn’t go in as I wasn’t appropriately dressed; I was wearing short shorts, and hadn’t thought to bring a scarf or wrap to cover myself up with. 











After lunch I headed up to The Liston – the elegant esplanade that was once reserved for royalty only – and then the old palace, finding next to that the gorgeous Old Fortress sitting out in the bright blue sea, ships all around it, and people bobbing around in the water. I spotted one guy swimming out from the beach to the fortress, and really wished I’d brought my bikini and towel! It was absolutely beautiful and reminded me a lot of Malaga and Naples; that Mediterranean city feel.







If you’ve read my previous posts, you have probably noticed that my lack of direction and spatial awareness is a general theme throughout any trip of mine; coupled with my inability to read maps, I got totally lost navigating my way back through the town to the bus station; I have no idea how I managed it in the end, but I did!

That evening I finished off my souvenir shopping in Moraitika before dinner, then followed my new routine of dinner and a cocktail on the beach. There were two little girls playing at the edge of the water, and slowly they began to play together; their parents were enjoying a drink and they were both amusing themselves. They had only just met and didn’t seem to speak the same language, but they bonded over picking up handfuls of wet sand and chucking them into the sea; it was really sweet to watch!


I woke on Tuesday with the feeling that I must make the most of my last day! I decided to try walking to Boukari again, taking the correct road this time! I was hoping to find a bit of beach along the way but had no luck finding anywhere decent until about two-thirds of the way along the road, when I spotted a little rocky cove, with what looked like a swimming platform (it had a ladder) past a rickety plank, extending over the rocks into the deeper water – obviously I was going for this! The water was surprisingly warm and I had a wonderful swim, with the whole thing to myself. Afterwards I lay out on the rocks, enjoying the sun and listening to the sea. 


When I eventually could bring myself to move, I completed my walk into Boukari and located some lunch; now with sore feet – I should have worn trainers for this three-mile walk! Boukari was exceedingly picturesque; lots of little boats and fishing platforms, and the water was a fantastic blue in between the darker shades of rocks and seaweed.


When I stepped out of the tavern, I realised it was raining – boo! It was a cold drizzle and there was a wind getting up. I started my walk back to Messonghi, and by the time I’d reached my little cove again, the drizzle had stopped, so I decided to sit there for a while. The sea was rough and was tossing the swimming platform around, so as much as I wanted to swim, I decided it would be silly to attempt it, with no one else around. So I just sat, enjoying being out on a rock amidst the choppy water, a little crab tickling my toes. It was very peaceful and I sat here for ages – I spotted Captain Homer’s boat coming back in for the day, but not close enough for them to spot me waving sadly!

After getting back to Messonghi, I went for one last swim in the calmer shallows, before dinner and a final cocktail (OK, maybe two, as it was my final night!) on the beach.

I was leaving first thing for the airport on Wednesday, but I got up early to watch the sun rise over the sea from my balcony, then walked down to the beach for one final view of the sea. It was scorching hot already and shaping up to be a beautiful day. I really didn’t want to leave, but was struck at how lucky I was to be enjoying that view that morning, and to have spent the week there; to be seeing the world very slowly, one country at a time.







You can see the rest of my photos on Flickr.

Monday 16 June 2014

Culture 'n' stuff



So I tend to only write about foreign trips on this blog which, on reflection, is a bit daft really, as I have plenty of adventures here in the UK…so I’m going to make an effort to write about some of those too.

When I moved to Bedford last year I thought I’d be off to London every weekend as it’s only 40 minutes on the train, but I’ve not been anywhere near that often and I definitely have more exploring to do. I’ve been down there a couple of times recently to do some interesting stuff. My friend A has just bought membership to the British Museum which includes a guest pass, so we decided to go and see some exhibitions. 

On our first trip we went to Vikings: life and legend (running until 22nd June so get in quick if you want to see it). Before we went into the exhibition we went to explore the Members’ Lounge, where there’s a lovely little café – perfect place for a coffee before we went in – and a “study area” with some reading tables and books (obviously I geeked out over this bit!). Free Wifi too, another nice perk of membership; this would be great place to come and do some research or writing.

We both enjoyed the exhibition but would have liked to see more on the mythology; the exhibits were very much about everyday life, which is of course also fascinating. My favourite piece was the remains of a longboat which they have laid out towards the end of the exhibition, and I also enjoyed learning about the women who were sorceresses, offering herbal cures and potions; I think I would have been one of those had I lived then! A came away wanting a drinking horn; they had some in the gift shop but they were very expensive and we were unsure whether they’d actually be suitable for drinking out of!

Afterwards we headed to Sade, a Mediterranean restaurant on the corner of Exmouth Market, where I ate far too much food in the form of stuffed vine leaves and the “Sade Special”, a minced lamb kofte in a tortilla with yoghurt and tomato (getting ready for my trip to Greece next month!). Good wine, friendly service and a relaxed atmosphere; would recommend.

Our next trip took place a few weeks later, when we headed back to the British Museum, this time for the Ancient Lives exhibition – mummies! I’ve loved Ancient Egypt, but especially mummies, since I was a kid so I was really looking forward to this one, and it didn’t disappoint. The exhibition contains eight mummies and their stories, or what we think their stories are; some Ancient Egyptian, others not.  It was an amazing exhibition and brilliant to get so close; I liked the Egyptian ones of course, but in a way the other mummies, not wrapped up or encased, were more fascinating, as you can see the actual remains of the person. Maybe I’m just a grisly soul, but I couldn’t stop looking at them! This was my favourite of the two exhibitions and I’d definitely recommend going – it’s on until 30th November. 

Oh, and being a cat lover, I couldn’t resist buying an Ancient Egyptian cat in the gift shop!

Photo: And obviously I had to buy an Egyptian cat for the tat table in my living room.

We were then off to the New London Theatre on Drury Lane that evening, to see War Horse, a show we’d both wanted to see for ages. A is great at finding bargains and had found a dinner and theatre deal through lovetheatre.com, where we got a two-course dinner at a participating restaurant and our show ticket for £47 each. There’s quite a big choice of restaurants and they offer a set menu for this deal, but they all have the menus online so you can have a look beforehand.

We had a bit of spare time between collecting our theatre tickets and going for dinner, so we popped into The Angel on St Giles High St for a drink, which is a lovely pub. I enjoyed a raspberry beer in the pleasant beer garden with a view:

Photo

We’d chosen The Noodle House on Shaftesbury Avenue as it was close to the theatre and had a good variety of food we both fancied on the set menu. We went early – 5pm – and had the place almost to ourselves, with very good service again. I had calamari for my starter and Pad Thai for my main, both delicious, and A went for duck dumplings (I tried some and they were fab – took me back to Chinatown as written about in my previous blog on NYC!) and Singapore Noodles. We both agreed we’d like to go back and try something from the full menu sometime.

Onto the theatre, and we were pleased with our seats – back row of the rear stalls and we had a full view of the stage, so the £47 deal was great. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the show (other than weeping!), having not read the book or seen the film…but I was riveted from the opening scene. I can’t even fathom the amount of rehearsal that must go into operating the horses; the actors were perfectly in sync and the horses seemed real, in the way that they moved, breathed, mooched around in the background. The story was wonderful, and yes, I cried copiously, along with the rest of the theatre I think – there was definitely a near-universal breakdown at one point! I wrote in my previous blog post about seeing a show on Broadway and how appreciative and vocal the American audience was in comparison to the British audiences I’d experienced; during this show it felt much more like the American audience – people clapped and cheered at every appropriate point, no one was playing on their phone or chatting, everyone gasped in unison at one particular tense point right at the end (you may know what I mean if you’ve seen it!), and there was a standing ovation at the curtain call. Highly recommended!

Photo: #100happydays day 50 - saw some amazing mummies at the British Museum, then an outstanding, gorgeous performance of War Horse (yes, I cried my eyes out!).

I have more London plans coming up over the summer, but my next trip is not far away; a week by myself in Corfu next month…I can’t wait!

Tuesday 22 April 2014

New York, New York!



I've always been fascinated by the United States - as a teenager I bought imported US teen magazines and planned to go to UCLA for university (until I realised the costs involved!) - but have never had the chance (or funds) to visit. Sometime last year I thought "Fuck it, it's only money" and bought a plane ticket to New York for this spring (I will never have a job teaching financial education!). I decided to spend a week in the city, by myself, and do a mixture of the typical tourist activities, and my favoured method of exploring a new place, wandering around and seeing what I found.
Thursday
My plane touched down at around 5pm New York time, the trip having been nowhere near as bad as I expected for my first 8 hour flight. My initial impression as I walked off the plane along the corridor to the border was that JFK looked just like Heathrow; the same HSBC adverts plastered along the corridor, the same airlines parked up - to my plane-addled brain it felt almost like we'd not left! I'd been told that getting through the border and customs could be an arduous process, but it seemed quite quick and painless to me, although I did seem to arouse some suspicion when I said I was alone and the purpose of my visit was a holiday - the guy seemed surprised and started commenting on what a brave and unusual thing it was to do. I started talking about my previous solo trips within Europe and, just as I was starting to worry I'd be pulled aside for questioning, he let me through.
I used the AirLink shuttle service to get to my hotel - I'd not heard great things about these, but I didn't want to fork out for a taxi and didn't fancy trying the train and subway option with a large suitcase. I had to wait about 45 minutes for my pick-up but once I was on the bus the journey was fine; we headed over the bridge into Manhattan as the sun was setting and the city was lighting up; my first beautiful view of how impossibly vast it was.
It didn't take long to reach my midtown hotel, which was Pod 51 on East 51st Street. Trying to choose a hotel had been initially overwhelming as there was just so much choice, so I sought recommendations from friends, and ended up here. Accommodation in NYC is pricey and there's no getting round it; you have to compromise somewhere, and I chose to go with a shared bathroom for the sake of being able to stay right in the middle of Manhattan, rather than stay somewhere cheaper but further away from the action. The room was small but perfect for a solo traveller, and I never had any issues with the bathrooms, so I would definitely recommend this place (it has a wonderful roof terrace too!).
Upon checking in I was given a free drink voucher for Pop@Pod, the bar and grill next door, so after dropping my stuff in my room I headed over there for a glass of wine and something to eat – I went with fried cauliflower with chipotle and lime sauce purely because it wasn’t something I’d ever encountered before! However, despite the unusual food, the insistence on ID at the bar, the basketball on the television and the guy next to me shouting at it, and the attentive customer service (noticing I’d finished my glass and asking if I wanted another), I found myself thinking: “this could be London”. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the bar could have been any All Bar One or similar in central London – it hadn’t quite hit me that I was in America yet! 
Friday
As I had expected, I woke up very early due to the time difference; not sure how early, but I felt like I had a substantial lie-in before I first looked at my phone to see 5.45am. I got up at 6am, thinking I may as well get a head start on the day, especially with the shared showers. By 7.30am I was ready to go and went in search of the roof terrace, finding that it didn’t open until 8am, so I went downstairs to the hotel café to grab a (somewhat-cliched!) breakfast of coffee and cream-cheese cinnamon and raisin bagel. At 8am I found the staircase open but the door still padlocked, so I had a frustrating peer through the window! Downstairs, the concierge told me it would be open at 9, so I decided to use the time to walk to one of the local subway stations and pick up a metrocard, as I would need one for the walking tour I was signed up for that morning. I headed out, coffee in hand, and now I felt like I was in America. My photos don’t do justice the size of Manhattan – the height of the buildings, their number, the vastness of the space. And the sounds – the constant honking of horns, the sirens, feet and voices, the clattering of the trains underneath your feet. It’s amazing.
I managed to get slightly lost coming back even though it was only two blocks (I’m good like that), but made it back in time to get up onto the terrace and enjoy the view from up high before it was time for the walking tour. Pod 51 offers free walking tours using the Streetwise company, and on Fridays it’s Greenwich Village, Chelsea and the High Line. We started by catching the subway down to 14th Street. The subway completely baffled me and I was glad to be able to follow Patrick, our guide, for my first attempt at it!
The view from the roof terrace

We had a good mooch through Chelsea Market and then walked along a section of the High Line, an urban park created where the old industrial railway tracks used to run, in the pouring rain. At one point we were just about able to make out the harbour and the Statue of Liberty, far in the distance, through the gloom – very cool and a bit surreal. Even with the  poor weather we enjoyed good views of the Hudson River and New Jersey, including the arch which marks where the Titanic was supposed to arrive. I decided to come back later in the week to walk more of the route, hopefully in better weather!
From the High Line
 
Patrick then took us through the East Village, which is very different to Midtown; no skyscrapers, just the houses with the stoops, and lots of clothes shops, bars and restaurants. We saw some filming for Law and Order, but no celebrities. Some in the group were excited about seeing Carrie Bradshaw’s stoop – I’m not a SaTC fan so it meant nothing to me however!
The tour ended in Washington Park Square, where Patrick left us to explore further by ourselves. I usually find walking tours worthwhile and this was no exception – Patrick was full of useful and interesting information about the area and it was a great way to see some of the city and get myself orientated. 
Washington Park Square

I wanted to send postcards to some family and friends back home, to arrive before I did, so I went off to find a shop to purchase some, walking past New York University and hatching my new Life Plan – become Director of the NYU Library, rent an apartment in Greenwich Village, and spend my evenings in the historic music bars on MacDougall Street! I located a suitable shop and encountered the first comments on my accent, with the cashier wanting to know if I lived anywhere near Glasgow as he had a distant relative there! It so happens that my mother comes from Glasgow so we had a chat, and he God-blessed me as he sold me some postcards and stamps to get them back to England.
After some lunch (Mac n Cheese) and postcard-writing, I headed off in search of the apartment which was apparently used in exterior shots of the apartment block in Friends. I found it, but wasn’t overly impressed – it didn’t seem as tall as it should!
I cocked the subway right up trying to get back to the hotel in time for the free Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) opening (4-8pm on Fridays); first I misread the card reader as refusing my card, then when I tried again it kept displaying “just used”, so I walked all the way back to 14th Street to get on there, where I managed to get a train travelling on the correct line, but not stopping at my stop (there’s no indication of which stops the trains visit, unless you’re on a new train with an electronic display – it seems you just need  to know which train you need!), so I ended up six streets uptown and on the West rather than East side – may not sound far, I found out that it was! It was after 5pm by the time I was ready to head out to the MoMA but decided to go anyway, and I’m really glad I did. I was going initially because I felt like I should while it was free, and didn’t really have any expectations of what would be there, but it’s full of amazing stuff! Wander through a room of Picassos, past a Van Gogh, and oh look, here’s Monet’s Water Lillies! I saw some lovely Frida Kahlo paintings, Lichenstein’s Drowning Girl, and some Warhol, and Cezanne, Matisse, Pollock, and loads more. It was almost sensory overload. The place was packed, as I expected it would be.
Heading back to the hotel, I encountered Manhattan at night up close for the first time, and it was wonderful – again, I don’t have the words or photos to convey its size.

Saturday
The weather reports on the morning television warned of a storm heading our way this afternoon and staying until Monday morning, so I got up early to hit Central Park before the rain hit me (hopefully). Good plan, but the rain started at about 10am so didn’t quite work! I covered about half of the park, starting at the bottom, seeing the main boulevard that you see so often on television and in films, the ice rink, Strawberry Fields and the John Lennon memorial (it was very hard to get a clear photo of this as so many people were posing on it for the same!), and the vast lake, before feeling I’d probably seen enough of it in the rain, so I headed off for an early lunch before next attempting to navigate the subway. A friend had suggested downloading an app, which I’d done so that morning before leaving, which actually turned out to be really helpful, with a route planner which helped me work out what trains I needed to take and where to change etc., and I successfully travelled all the way downtown to the World Trade Centre site, where I was going to visit the 9/11 memorial. I’d reserved my spot in advance, which was good as the queues for tickets (free but donations accepted) were massive, but also not so good as it was really not the ideal day to be on an outside visit – the rain was hammering down now and the wind was squally – it definitely felt like a storm straight off the Atlantic.
 
 
I arrived a bit too early so I went into St Paul’s Chapel, a church which is basically over the road from where the twin towers were. A sign in the churchyard explained that, after they came down, the yard was covered in debris, but the building itself was undamaged – hard to believe, as it’s so close by. Inside the church there’s a bit of an exhibition which is quite moving – the chapel essentially became a resting spot/changover spot/place of reflection for the rescue workers.
There is a lot of building work going on around the area; they’ve finished the new World Trade Centre skyscraper, and the memorial museum is due to be finished later this year; it’s evidently an ongoing project.
Getting into the memorial involved lots of queuing, security and bag-checks – over the week I’d realise to expect airport-style security at most places. I was struck while queuing by the mood of the people around me; I had expected a sober atmosphere, but people were chatting about everyday things, and a bunch of teenagers next to me were singing and joking around, with the adult accompanying them appearing not to be bothered. This continued as we reached the memorial. At the moment it’s the two pools which sit in the base of where the towers were, into which are engraved the names of everyone who died in the attacks on 9/11 and in 1993, grouped by who or where they were i.e. in one of the towers, on one of the planes, in a first response unit. The pools were bigger and deeper than I had imagined. I went round in the torrential rain and read every name on both pools. All were very sad, but some in particular wrenched at me; the female names accompanied by “and her unborn child”, and the number of first responders – not just fire and police, but guys who worked on the subway or for the Port Authority in other roles, who would surely never expect to go into that kind of situation in their work.  I was 14 years old when 9/11 happened and it had a massive effect on me; it showed me how awful the world could be, and led to my politicisation. So I felt it was important to visit the memorial, to pay attention to every name, and to reflect quietly on what happened. Not many people appeared to be sharing my sadness though – they were running around, laughing, chatting, smiling for photos and selfies by the pools. I suppose the kids there wouldn’t remember it, to them it’s just history, but I was surprised by the adult behaviour too. I guess it’s not for me to judge, but it felt like for many of the visitors it was just another “attraction” to tick off the list on their New York visit. 
Emotionally drained and soaked through to the skin, I decided to head back to the hotel to dry off and plan my evening. It became evident that the rain wasn’t going to ease, so I’d just have to brave it again if I wanted to experience Saturday night in New York City, which obviously I did! I initially wasn’t over-enthusiastic about going back out in that weather, but once I was out there, in my boots and umbrella, with dusk falling and buildings lighting up through the raindrops, it felt romantic and playful, as I trotted along to a local Italian to eat pizza and watching the view through the watery window. After dinner I took the subway to Greenwich Village and headed for MacDougall Street, home of the music bars where artists like Bob Dylan, Carole King and Joni Mitchell played their first gigs. The famous bars were reservation-only or had massive queues, so I wandered along for a bit and followed the sound of blues to a bar called The Groove, where I spent the evening drinking Brooklyn Lager (nice) and enjoying some amazing live bands.


Sunday
 
Awake early again despite my late night, and decided to head to a diner I spotted around the corner last night, for a proper American breakfast. I wasn’t disappointed; diner-style booths like you see in the films, a massive pile of pancakes with bacon and maple syrup, and the waiter coming round and refilling everyone’s coffee every so often. 

It was still raining so I decided to just take the day as it came, aiming for things that didn’t involve been outside too much. It was just drizzling when I left the diner, so I headed for Times Square. I was sure it was most impressive at night, a view I’d not yet seen, but it was still brilliant in the grey morning – so much light, so many moving images, and so tall – I kept forgetting to look up and being surprised when I did. It was 10am-ish on a Sunday and yet the area was busy already – tourists exploring and taking photos, people touting the Broadway shows (including a lady in full Chicago gear walking along singing “All That Jazz”), and a massive queue at the TKT booth for discount Broadway tickets; I was glad I’d decided to get mine in advance – it was bitterly cold and it looked like they’d be there for hours, which to my mind was not worth the 40% discount I could have potentially gotten.

The rain was starting to come down again so, despite not being much of a shopper, I decided to pay Macy’s a visit. International visitors get a 10% discount here – head up to the mezzanine with your passport to get an international visitors’ pass which lasts for 30 days; you present it at the till and you get the discount on top of any sale discount. I enjoyed having a wander round, looking at the flower show on the ground floor, and the prom dress section – so much colour and glitter and lace! I ended up buying a couple of things (not a prom dress!) which turned out fairly cheap with my pass. The card reader at the till was a bit tricky to work out, and I found it bizarre how there is no chip-and-PIN; they still use the signature method, which seems old-fashioned and a bit vulnerable!

I went for a bit of a wander and then headed for the New York Public Library, which opens at 1pm on a Sunday. There was a queue to get in; a mixture of tourists and library users. My friends presumed I wanted to visit because I’m a librarian, but actually my main reason for going was that I’m a big disaster movie fan, and the NYPL is the principal setting of The Day After Tomorrow! It was great seeing the Reading Room, which looked just like it does in the film! The whole building is beautiful inside and I wasn’t the only one taking photos and admiring it. There’s a gift shop, which offers a 10% discount for librarians, teachers and students (take something proving it – I used my CILIP membership card to prove my librarian identity), so I bought a few gifts and got a tote bag to boast my visit!

Next, I headed up to the Roosevelt Island Aerial Tramway, which I’ve fancied a trip on ever since seeing it in the film Leon. I love the image of the cable cars gliding past the skyscrapers of Manhattan. It’s public transport so I used my metrocard to get on it, and it was fairly quiet, so I got a great view both ways. It was a grey and gloomy day but I loved soaring above the river. Definitely one to do again on a sunny day.


  


At this point I realised I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I headed back to the hotel for a quick change, then out to a Mexican restaurant to stuff my face with enchiladas and rice and beans, before taking the subway to Greenwich Village again. This time I found myself in a bar called Vol de Nuit which specialises in Belgian beers. It was quiet but I had a fun chilled night chatting to the bar staff and writing in my journal.


Monday
I woke to the weather app on my phone telling me to expect “rain and flurries”, and the television showing images of snowflakes fluttering around a grey Manhattan, so I was expecting a cold one today.

I had a reservation for the Statue of Liberty at 11am, so after breakfast I headed straight down there – good job I allowed plenty of time as the subway was suffering delays.  Security was high once again, with airport-style security both before getting on the ferry and again before entering the Statue. Lots of queues again too! The ferry runs on a loop from Battery Park to Liberty Island to Ellis Island. If you want to get onto either of the islands, even if you don’t want to go up the Statue, then you need to book with Statue Cruises, and I’d suggest doing it in advance – the queues were bad enough without having to queue to get a ticket first. 

It was a lovely short ride to the Statue, standing on the open top deck (very cold!) for the best views. It was impressive, standing guard over the harbour, but didn’t seem as big as I had expected. The voiceover told us that we were seeing the same view as immigrants who arrived on boats back when people arrived that way would have seen, their first glimpse of the city, the Statue with the impressive Manhattan skyline behind it, after days or weeks at sea. 

You need to book in advance if you want to climb to the Pedestal of the Statue, or to the Crown; Crown tickets sell out months in advance which I hadn’t realised, so I went as far as the Pedestal only. There was a bit of a queue again, but then it was a steep but pleasant climb up. And whilst I was climbing, the sun came out, for the first time since I’d been there! It was still bitterly cold but it was suddenly a beautiful day, and the views of Manhattan, bathed in sunshine, were fantastic. Looking up, standing just below Lady Liberty’s feet, she now seemed huge. After going back down to ground level I just spent ages staring up, thinking “that’s the Statue of Liberty” – I couldn’t quite get my head round it!
Obligatory SoL selfie!


It was then onto Ellis Island, where immigrants would be processed; so again, following the route they would have taken.  There’s now a museum about the history of immigration to New York there, although some of it is still closed due to damage from Hurricane Sandy. I didn’t find it overly stimulating but that was possibly because I knew a lot of it already due  to my interest in that aspect of American history; I did however really enjoy standing in the hall where they used to process the arrivals, imagining being one of those people, just off the boat after so long at sea, the Statue visible through the window on one side and the Manhattan skyline on the other, unlike anything I’d seen in my home country, waiting to be admitted to the US and deposited in Battery Park to make my way.

I completed my shadowing of the immigrants’ route by taking the ferry back over to Manhattan. The visit had taken about four hours in total so it was mid-afternoon and still beautiful but cold, so I walked along the harbour for a while enjoying being by the water, before heading up through Wall Street and the Financial District to Chinatown for a wander around there. I was getting hungry now so decided I needed to sample some food here. There is no shortage of restaurants to choose from so I just picked one and headed inside, where I enjoyed steamed pork dumplings (amazing!), Peking prawns and white rice, and Chinese tea in a funky teapot. Chinese takeaways have a hell of a lot to live up to in the future! I’d heard good things about the Chinatown Ice Cream Shop which I’d passed on my way, so decided to head there for something sweet for dessert. The choice was overwhelming so I asked the server for a recommendation and he suggested Almond Cookie, so I had a little tub of that to enjoy as I walked along Canal Street to the subway – absolutely delicious!

  

Having been out every night, I decided a quiet night in was in order, so I headed back to the hotel and spent some time enjoying the night-time view from the roof terrace (so tall and vast and bright and unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before).

Getting ready for bed, I realised I’d got sunburnt on my nose.


Tuesday
So lovely to see the sun shining again this morning! Last night, seeing the forecast looking good, I’d booked a ticket for the Top of the Rock for this morning, thinking there was no point going up there on a gloomy day where I wouldn’t be able to see anything. 

I set out early and picked up a coffee and scone from a local coffee shop, joining the throng of commuters walking through Midtown first thing. I loved the feeling of being just one of this mass of people, that no one knows I don’t live here, that I’m not off to work or college. This is one of my favourite things about travelling alone. You feel so free and like you can blend in and be anyone.

I arrived at the Rockefeller Plaza with plenty of time to spare so after eating my scone, I wandered around a bit, watching the skaters on the ice rink, admiring the Lego Rockefeller Plaza in the window of the Lego store, and joining the crowds peering through the windows of the NBC Today Show studio – I didn’t see anyone famous though!

The elevator up to the top spanned 67 floors, but it moved quickly and there was a light show of music and images on its roof so it didn’t feel that long, though my ears did pop! There are two observation decks which are glassed around, and then another one on top which has minimal glass (just barriers to stop you falling off!) so that’s best for photos. You can spend as much time up there as you like and it didn’t feel crowded at all; possibly first thing in the morning on a weekday is a good time to go.

It was glorious, clear, sunny morning – the best weather of the whole time I was there, so I definitely picked the best time to go. On the one side you could see lower Manhattan, with the Empire State Building presiding over the view, the new World Trade Centre sitting behind it, and in the distance, Lady Liberty guarding the harbour. On the other side was Central Park; seeing it from this high up really emphasised how big it is. It looked a bit brown though, which is not how I’d imagined it to be – but I guess it’s been covered in snow and blown around by wind all winter. 



 



When I eventually decided it was time to come down, I took the subway over to Brooklyn Bridge, to walk over it to Brooklyn, enjoying brilliant views of the harbour in the sun. I spent the afternoon in Brooklyn, as a bit of change from Manhattan; had a cheeseburger and fries followed by cheesecake and wandered around Prospect Park. I think pretty much everyone else there was a local, taking the kids out for a wander or walking the dog, and again, I enjoyed that feeling of no one knowing I didn’t live here. However, as usual, my (lack of) sense of direction failed me when trying to find the subway, and I ended up wandering around a lot more of Brooklyn than I had intended (I found the library!) before finally locating a train that would take me back to Manhattan. 

That evening I was off to Broadway and I had chosen Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, partly because I am a fan of her music, and partly because I wanted to see something I hadn’t seen/couldn’t see over here.  It was a fantastic experience; the show was amazing, the actors were wonderful, the music was brilliant (shout-out to the often-forgotten orchestra in the pit from an ex-musician!) and the story gripping; sad, happy, vibrant. I loved the reaction of the audience too; the last few times I’ve been to the theatre in Britain, people have been playing on their phones and chatting throughout, then leaving before the curtain call – here, the audience cheered every time one of the classic tunes started up, applauded after everything, and everyone gave a standing ovation to the show’s star (something I’ve only ever encountered once in Britain). After taking their bows, the cast then launched into a rendition of “I Feel The Earth Move” and the whole audience was clapping and singing along and dancing – brilliant!

Thoroughly thrilled (and singing “The Locomotion” to myself), I mooched along to see Times Square lit up at night – as amazing as you’d expect it to be, so much colour and noise and flashing light, extending so high into the sky. I have no idea how I managed to sleep that night after all that excitement!

Wednesday 

My last full day was a day of wandering around and revisiting things; the High Line (on which I got rained on again!), Greenwich Village, and the harbour. At the end of the afternoon I headed up to the American Museum of Natural History as I had heard that it was free in the final hour of opening; this was indeed true and so I had a bit of a wander around there. Too much to see in one hour of course, but I found my favourite animals, monkeys!

Once the sun starting setting I headed downtown to the Staten Island Ferry. This is a free commuter ferry which goes right past the Statue of Liberty, and I had decided to do the trip by night to see everything lit up. It certainly did not disappoint; the skyline and Statue were both as stunning as I had hoped, and the ferry over there had an open deck for the best views and photos. It was surreal to see people sitting inside reading  the paper and plugged into their iPods, evidently so used to the view that they didn’t need to see it – I just can’t imagine ever not being wowed by it!





My final plan of the evening was to head to one of the famous music bars in Greenwich Village (The Bitter End – where Carole King first performed) but by the time I got there (9.30pm) the queue was massive. I had presumed the place would be less busy on a weeknight but I was evidently wrong! I made do with peering in through the window and adding it to my to-do list for whenever my next visit might be. I think Greenwich Village is my spiritual home!

Thursday

I woke up thinking that I didn’t want to go home! I had a few hours before I had to catch my ride to the airport so I enjoyed a final breakfast of pancakes before going for a final wander around Manhattan, looking glorious in the sun. 

I found my way down to the harbour and sat on a bench, looking out at the water and the Statue and enjoying my final meal in America, which had to be a hotdog! I was joined by office workers coming down to eat their sandwiches on the benches along the waterside; I can’t even fathom having the option of lunchtime down in New York Harbour! But then I think…the past day or so, the buildings haven’t seemed so tall, and catching the subway feels normal…am I getting used to being here? Perhaps it’s best that I am leaving now after all…I don’t ever want the magic of New York City to wear off…

(more photos available here)