Well that was a trek. Park Slope Brooklyn, all the way up 5th Avenue, across the Manhattan Bridge, through Chinatown and Little Italy, then up Broadway to Times Square and then along 42nd Street to here; Grand Central Station food area, Junior's Deli. If it takes that long to detail the route, I wonder if there are enough hours in the day to describe it...
I am sat alone at a table in Junior's, with an empty coffee cup and an unfinished slice of the most incredible blueberry cheescake...I'm just taking my time with it. It's not that it's bloody enormous or anything. Just six inches thick.
Brooklyn was under snow when I woke up at 5am, but stopped by the time I set out at 11am. I was wrapped up and braced for a long walk to Manhattan before seeing anything of the major sites - Brooklyn is a mixed neighbourhood of low two-storey buildings and nail and hair boutiques in red neon, but glancing down a street as I walked, the Statue of Liberty was framed for an instant, bright green against shades of grey and blue grey of a melting city snowscape.
Walking quickly, I counted down the streets heading North, just taking everything in...
The Manhattan Bridge offered amazing views of downtown Manhattan through and around the criss-crossing cables of the Brooklyn Bridge, as I walked along underneath the shaking road next to the subway tracks. Rooftop children's play areas caged but open to the sky startled me with unexpected colour.
The snow may have been melting fast, but the air was cold and as I came down one side of the bridge, it carried the heavy warm cooking smells of Chinatown. Inside of two-blocks I was in Little Italy, and the two areas loop and interlock like steepled fingers. Tempted by the window display, I bought a slice of focaccia pizza from an Italian delicatessen on the corner of Mulberry and Grand, where two guys in white t-shirts were arguing about a cousin's birthday under hanging meats while Billy Joel played on the radio in the background.
It's criminal, but I'm not sure I'm going to finish this cheesecake. Mind you, the coffee cup didn't stay empty very long. I think my liking for this country may be accelerating.
Speaking of which, I heartily recommend Air India to anyone whose idea of economy class air travel is a complimentary third of a pint of Ballantine's whisky and semi-drunken slumber after that, punctuated with wide-eyed wonder at the view of the ice sheets off Greenland and Northern Canada from the window.
Shiv and Krissa could not have could not have me more welcome...I even have my own keys, with a handy compass on one key ring, so that if all else fails I can revert to my antiquated Boy Scout skills. After a high pitched and energetic welcome last night, we ordered a Chinese takeaway, had coke and chatted animatedly on subject from Gabriel Marquez to our most disturbing Google referrals (I think this is more or less traditional) via much gossip. Krissa left after Shiv's boyfriend Dominic arrvied at about eleven and I finally got to sleep at about midnight, but it was 5am in my head, bringing a 24hour day to an end...we're all going out tonight. This could get extreme...
Anyway, after Little Italy I motored up Broadway, via Shakespeare and Co. and the world's largest used book store. It was a shaky moment, but I've still got some money left. I had a hotdog in the insanity of Times Square, and took photos, including one of a conveniently yellow-haired girl outside of the New Amsterdam Theatre.
I'm about as stocked up on caffiene and sugar as I can be (Jetlag? What jetlag?), so: time to pay the bill.
Bloody hell that was good cheesecake.
Counting Crows fan eh? I love you.