A trek across Northern America with three friends met along life’s journey starting with MB, who is to meet me in New York and travel with me for the next ten days……
“……In the very centre of the museum is a closed off area to photography. A second more private museum area full of items that were from the actual site, personal items, photographs, film displays and artefacts. Controversial items like photographs and film footage of people jumping to their deaths from the buildings.
Currently I’m standing next to a man who is watching this footage, whilst holding the hand of his four year old. The four year old too, is watching the footage. And I shake my head wondering why the father thinks it’s suitable that his child should see the footage he is presently transfixed watching. I move on, and see keys, shoes, a comb, glasses, a wallet. There’s information attached to the items as to precisely where they were found. Nearby there’s further film footage of the towers coming down. It’s on loop so it’s a repeat, and you see the buildings collapse over and over again.
Words recorded in print that were spoken that day by air hostesses on the plane that crashed, messages recorded on message bank by those on the plane saying goodbye to their loved ones. Tape recordings in an audio theatre playing the voices of those trapped in the buildings with two tower silhouettes and a spotlight pointing to exactly where the message was sent from and by whom. Transmitted messages converted to text from the services that attended the towers that day, fire department, emergency services, the police department. Photographs and film of each of the sites affected, the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania……”
Day Thirty Eight – 22nd. October – Saturday – A ridiculous idea, a full day in NYC. So as a result I am rolling out of bed at 3:30 am, with only four hours sleep under my belt. Sandra my sister and I, having talked for three hours after we went to bed at 9:30 am so I today have lost the advantage of an early night. She’s heading back to Australia this morning and was reluctant to just go to sleep, there seemed much to talk about.
Washing my hair I feel only half alive but by the time I am drying it I know I’m organised, packed and ready to go. Our taxi is ordered for 5:15 am to take us from the Cassidy Hotel to Terminal Two at Dublin Airport. The taxi arrives and is on time, but the driver is a smoker so we drive to the airport with the windows partway down, and as it’s 11 degrees Celcius outside it’s a cool drive. Not a very good driver either, slow fast slow fast, he has simply no idea how to smoothly control a car’s speed with his foot, and he doesn’t use cruise control. Sandra politely asks him to drive smoother as she feels car sick.
We arrive at the airport and get our cases out, we both have two large cases and one carryon, as well as a handbag. Sandra’s bags are well in excess of permitted weight, mine are not, and when we meet up later after having proceeded through the first customs point, she says her first case at the Etihad checkin was 17 kg and second 27 kg. The lass at the check point must have decided to balance the two out as we are allowed two at 23 kg each and a carryon at 7 kg. I then asked her about hand luggage. The lass, Sandra said, had asked about carryon. Sandra said “a handbag”. Her carryon, excessively over weight at 15 kg was purposely hiding behind the counter as she loaded the suit cases on the conveyor belt. Then Sandra was, remarkably, waved through. For the third time I must add. It has been the same at the last three airports. And I am amazed at her ability to completely thwart the powers of control by sneaking overweight luggage through at EVERY check in.
I’m at the American Airlines counter. First bag 18 kg, second 18 kg, the lass doing my check in doesn’t even bother with weighing my carryon. I head through to the first customs check point. As per usual, I ring all the bells as I walk through the circular X-ray machine, four joint replacements and I have, for the first time ever, a female security officer’s hands run all over my body firmly. Twice. Then a mechanical detector. Do you have any joint replacements? Yes, four. I have to go back into the doorway X-ray again, then another run over with the female officer, this time with a hand held apparatus.
The US check area is thorough. Shoes off, all hand luggage, contents of pockets in tray, all jackets, hats off etc. Through another circular X-ray machine again. Then onto a customs area where my Visa application is checked, fingerprints and a photo is taken. Then onto a security area where I am drilled by an officer. Put your four fingers on your right hand on the green pad. Put your right thumb on the green pad. Put your four fingers on your left hand on the green pad. Put your left thumb on the green pad. I am thoroughly fingerprinted. Look into the camera. He takes a photo. I wasn’t asked to smile. But he’s not the type to be amused easily.
Where are you from? Australia. How long are you visiting for? Five weeks. Are you staying with family or friends? Friends. Where are you staying? In New York at the Paramount for three days then with my friend …. at Honeyoe Falls for seven days. I’m in Wisconsin for two weeks with another friend. Then San Fransisco for ten days with another friend. What are you doing whilst here? Holidaying. Have you been to the USA before? No. What date do you depart? 27th. October? No, 27th. November. Is this your suitcase? I look at the monitor. Yes that’s it. Is this also your suitcase? Yes. (Yep they’ve got a pic of that one too I see as I look at the next pic on the monitor.) Have you any souvenirs? Yes, a bag full. What sort of souvenirs? And so the questions go on. Then finally. Finally he winds it up. Exactly how long are you away for? 75 days, I’m travelling around the world. What day do you return to Australia? The 28th. November. At last, reasonably satisfied with all my responses I am permitted to proceed through to the next area.
I’ve never had such a thorough check in at an airport before and I’m imagining this will be repeated numerous times over the coming weeks as I have Buffalo to Chicago, Chicago to San Fransisco, San Fransisco to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Hawaii ahead. Not to mention my arrival in the various airports as well. So I guess I’ll get a bit more practice at doing this.
The flight leaves late. I was told by the travel agent the American flights are “always late”. Expect to wait. The projected arrival time of my flight is presently around 11:11 am US NYC time, 4:11 pm Dublin time. It’s a seven hour flight. There are no TV Monitors on the backs of the seats but there are movies overhead though but you have to buy headphones if you haven’t brought them with you. I have headphones. I watch Finding Dory.
When the movie finishes the flying stats appear on the overhead monitor. We have been cruising at 10670 metres and at 832 km/ph the outside temperature is -49 Celcius. Time is passing slowly. The air hostesses are older ladies, not the dolly types. They serve lunch an hour into the flight, but it tastes pretty ordinary. I have a small bar of chocolate so resort to eating that and I drink a large glass of red wine then manage a good hour’s sleep.
At 1:00 pm Dublin time we are given an ice cream. It’s delicious. I read Diana Gabaldon for a time but I’m currently settled into writing notes from today and yesterday, the last day of my trip. It’s a discipline this journal keeping. My sister asked me last night, “aren’t you tired? I can’t think, my brain’s not working.” “Yes” I replied, “but if I don’t write I’ll forget then it’s impossible to write anything up. And it’s important to keep track for the books and my blog I’ll finish later”.
We are in some turbulence at present but I have some fabulous music blasting through my headphones and I am in a world of my own. It’s 2:15 pm Dublin time. Two hours to go. I look at the monitor again projected arrival time is now 11:21 am NYC time. I hope my American pen pal MB can keep track of the delay. We are presently flying at 11887 metres, and 750 km/ph whilst the temperature outside has dropped to -56 degrees Celcius.
At 3:55 pm Dublin time we start the descent into JFK. “Welcome to New York” blasts over the intercom fifteen minutes later as we touch down. I collect my bags then look for MB. I’m not game to move from the baggage area at this point as I have absolutely no idea where to go, so I hook into the free wifi only to find MB’s running late so she leaves a message to go straight on to the hotel and meet up there. I go to the information desk and they advise to get the shuttle service from the airport into town so I book a ticket and they pick me up about twenty minutes later. The service is not direct though and we stop at Terminal 2, 3 and then another two terminals picking up even more people before we are done. Then suddenly the driver’s heading back to Terminal 8 again. “No more to pick up there” says his operator “you can head into town”. The run around took half an hour.
The shuttle then heads into New York at 12:15 pm and it’s 2:30 pm by the time we make my hotel but the drive in is exciting. The classic New York skyline slowly rises into view as we come to one of its famous bridges. My phone camera is to hand so I shoot video and stills as we head into Manhattan. It’s gorgeous, and by the time I’m done I’m bouncing around in the seat, snapping images of this and that, through rain spattered glass, all whilst thinking to myself, this is so much better than I thought it would be.
I notice there are few places to park and that it’s primarily taxis, shuttles and buses in the city. The taxis honk their way along the streets with impatience, and there are sirens every few minutes. The police are everywhere, park their cars everywhere, and they are also on the streets patrolling. I speak to some police officers when I stop for a photo a little later, they are really friendly.
My bags are unloaded as the shuttle simply stops in the second lane from the side of the road out front and I head into my hotel, The Paramount. I know MB is inside waiting. I’m really excited to be finally meeting her. I walk in and I spot her instantly as she spots me and she jumps up and we both call out each other’s names. MB holds up a paper with Tomamichel written on it, as instructed, so I could find her easily, and we both crack up laughing. We bear hug each other. She’s exactly as I imagined. Funny, vivacious, real. She has a grin from ear to ear, as I do. A lovely person. And her eagerness to come on this journey with me is very much appreciated. It’s going to be a great ten days.
We go up to the room but head out fifteen minutes later eager not to waste a second of our time in this magical city. I need to do laundry, desperately, but it can wait. MB tells me with the confident delight of one who has been planning this for months, that she has an itinerary of surprises lined up for us and I say bring it on. First up we walk down the street and into Times Square some three hundred metres away. Fifteen minutes later and we’ve walked several blocks, and have located our first NYC must do that MB has booked, online no less (way to go MB) an evening’s visit to the high rise lookout stop, The Rock, at the top of the Rockerfellow Centre.
There’s a church spire peaking through the buildings at the corner ahead, and on the way we see ice skating on a city street rink, set below the street level where we are, called The Rockerfellow Square Ice Rink . I shoot images from above. It seems bizarre seeing people skating without snow all around as I’ve seen this place cloaked in white in the wintertime, in several movies about New York. It is smaller than I had thought, tiny. Some of the buildings have American flags on them which are billowing in the cold gusts of wind that funnel their way willy nilly down the narrow corridors created by the high rise buildings and intersecting tiny three and four lanes one way streets.
The church ahead is St. Patrick’s, a stunning, almost white stone Gothic inspired architectural masterpiece and inside the stained glass windows are inspired. It is bright inside the cathedral, with its ceilings that reach to dizzying heights, and generous cavernous proportions. And it is flooded with natural and softly coloured light filtering through vast arched windows casements. The sounds inside are compelling. A priest is singing, it is just beautiful, like nothing I have ever heard before. Melodious, soulful, moving. He is singing his way through a marriage ceremony, in Latin. Not just words in a singsong fashion, but truly singing his heart out in melodious, glorious song. I am riveted, spell bound and video the church with the enchanting sound echoing gloriously all around.
But it is 3:00 pm and lunch is a good eight hours overdue for me as I’d not really eaten on the plane and, upon arrival in New York after a seven hour flight, we had put our watches back five hours. Breakfast for me in Dublin had been at 7:00 am. and MB, faithful in her waiting in the lobby for me, also hasn’t eaten. She too, had been up early and travelling. We find a burger joint called Burger Bill’s and chat, and have an American Burger each, and share sweet potato fries and a salad. MB navigates me through tipping and at 4:30 pm, after a short session of free wifi and uploading some pics of meeting Mary and my arrival in New York, we head off again.
New York is fabulous. Lights, glitter, people. There is a frenzy of activity all around us. Street food vendors selling hotdogs, burgers, kebabs, felafel, donuts, coffee and a myriad of other hot culinary delights are on almost every corner. There’s autumn colour in the trees, and here and there I see water fountains and artworks. Buildings soar to dizzying heights, some seventy stories high, one after another, after another, and icon buildings are all around. The Chase Manhattan Building, The Empire State Building, The Rockerfellow Centre, Radio City, and theatres as we are on the edge of the theatre district. The lines are straight, crisp, clean. The Architecture is mostly Modernist. And the skyline is rich with shape, form and pattern. It is cold today, 9 degrees Celcius and the wind feels cutting in some places, but I am lightly jacketed as it’s warm walking, and we walk on the sides of the streets that are sheltered. But by 6:00 pm, after looking at some shops, and going into one very artistic clothes shop called Anthropologie, we are looking for a sit down and a coffee.
Mary takes me to the Starbucks which is in a corridor next to the skating rink, and after some time queuing then ordering, then waiting for a custom take out hot chocolate and coffee, we find a seat and table a bit further away in the Rockerfellow Centre, and chat solidly for the next hour. And I’m not entirely sure that MB and I are ever going to run out of things to talk about. After a twenty five year friendship writing letters and exchanging emails, being together for the first time, having coffee and enjoying the moment, it’s a remarkably easy, and very comfortable fit.
The 7:30 pm appointment with The Rock looms and we head up to the roof top lookout platforms, where the outside glassed tall fenced areas have the best views. We travel 67 floors in 43 seconds and our ears pop on the way. There’s a video lightshow on the roof of the elevator as we travel up and it’s see through so you can follow the lift’s trek up as a string of endless blue lights skim by. Outside the wind is gusting through gaps in high glass panels. It is bracing, refreshing, and freezing, all at the same time. It’s wonderful. And New York’s lights are breathtaking. Glitter and colour in every direction, different shapes, different patterns, but a spectacular skyline when combined. Beautiful. And a real highlight of this stunning cosmopolitan city.
The trek home on foot is at a comfortable easy pace. MB follows Suri’s directions, and her GPS skills really impress me as she says she has no phone skills and not an in depth knowledge of New York. An online ticket booking to the rooftop lookout AND GPS navigation, MB I am impressed. We arrive back at the hotel by 10:10 pm. We are exhausted.
Day Thirty Nine – 23rd. October – Sunday – The room in New York for three nights doesn’t include breakfast, so this morning MB and I hunt and gather at the coffee shop on the ground floor, which is part of the hotel. It sells fresh fruit and fresh fruit salad, yoghurt, blueberries and granola, tiramisu, croissants, bagels and some egg and ham dishes as well as tea, coffee and juices. We then sit in the hotel lobby, as do many of the other hotel guests munching on breakfast in the almost pitch black conditions. For some reason New York trends in decor are very dark, almost sombre, at present. There is minimal mood lighting in the lobby, and it is weirdly unusual. Gold accents amidst dark brown panelling on the walls, roof and floor with pops of pattern and texture in large gold bamboo artworks and wooden tree branches like driftwood from the sea and tall thin sticks of crazy willow. It’s quite unusual, different and very now New York.
This morning’s challenge was to make 53rd. Street from 46th. Street in less than half an hour and it was a pleasant if not leisurely walk to the bus stop, less than two kilometres away. This was my second surprise activity. Waiting for us was a huge black bus with wide plush leather seats, and as we were first to arrive we had the pick of where to sit. Within fifteen minutes however the bus was almost full and ten minutes later, the last seat is sold to a random passerby then we head off.
First stop is Strawberry Fields in Central Park but the significant buildings, like Juilliard’s School of Music, churches, memorials and luxury apartments in the 32-53 million price bracket including the homes of Robert De Niro and Ricky Martin are pointed out on the way by James, our guide, a native of Brooklyn. James has a strange accent however but it’s much later in the tour that we find out why. James hops out at Central Park and he produces a stuffed chicken from under his jacket and asks us to follow the chicken, which he raises above his head, on each of our short forays in the streets on foot.
Central Park is gorgeous today, the skies have cleared from yesterday’s wet weather, and the sun is shining, filtering its way through the autum leafed trees. We visit the site of the inspiration for the Beatles song “Strawberry Fields” and there’s a busker sitting on a park bench as tourists and passersby mill around the circular memorial on the pavement that, today, is encircled with pretty flowers. As we leave Central Park (we do a drive through the end of it) James tells us that Central Park is actually “fake”. Once the site of a marshland, Central Park was made a park using over 11 million cubic tons of soil imported from New Jersey, and every flower, shrub, plant and tree, was hand planted, all six million of them. It is a very beautiful fake park however and I’m looking forward to visiting it for much longer tomorrow.
New York is made up of five Boroughs we are told by James (chicken man), a legacy of the USA’s colonial past and early ties with England. New York also has five zoos, and we pass the zoo the film “Madagascar” was based upon as we leave Central Park. We then head through Trump district and the home of “the wanna be President”, his Trump Tower and everything Trump as we enter the famous Fifth Avenue. We are told that there are no prices on the clothing in the shop windows on Fifth Avenue as if you need to ask how much something is you probably can’t afford it. A fact that resonates strongly with the New York wealthy and its association with affluence.
Chicken man leads us off the bus shortly after at our next stop, a spot near where MB and I wandered last night, St. Patrick’s Cathedral. We then walk to the Rockerfeller skating rink for a brief foray, then it’s back to the bus again, whilst James explains the ice rink is only operational from October to April each year. He also explains details like the flags surrounding the rink as being flags from the individual USA states. James then briefly mentions Top of the Rock, the observation Deck we visited at at the Rockerfeller Centre last night and the procedure to follow if others on the tour this morning want to visit it later.
The buildings are beautiful this morning as we drive through the streets, tall and sleek. The sun is beaming down out of a resplendent blue sky and colour in the city is bright, sharp and clean. We stop at a road intersection at our third stop. A street corner where we can see the 102 story Empire State Building quite clearly. And each time we disembark we are assaulted with the delicious smells of charcoal grilled meat that waft from the many street corner vendor vans, that sell the street foods that New York is so famous for. I immediately promise MB and myself we are going to eat lunch, a pretzel or a bagel from one before we depart this vibrant city.
From the street corner on Fifth Avenue we then trek towards Brooklyn and Trinity Church, the oldest church in New York where we are told of how the buildings in the older parts used to be mostly wooden and were once all attached to each other. James tells us New York has burned to the ground three times in its lifetime and the only way they could put these historic blazes out, he says in his odd accent, was to simply let them burn. When the fires ran out of fuel, they died out.
James then admits to being from Brooklyn, and he lapses into his native brogue but he’s almost unintelligible as he rapidly fires words at us in the sing song fashion of natives and actors well known from the district. He also explains different ways to say things. And says the typical New York response we should say to almost everything is “forget-dah-bout-it”. Especially to the guys on every street corner trying to flog Hop On Hop Off bus rides, or the ones wanting to get you to do a ride in a carriage. He says the tourists say “No No, thank you” the New Yorkers say “forget-dah-bout-it”. And hereafter he adds the catch phrase to the end of almost every sentence he speaks until it eventually becomes a bit of a joke.
James then takes us on foot to the famous Wall Street and home of the New York Stock Exchange. There’s a memorial to Washington there and being Sunday, it is quieter than usual. Shortly after we stop for lunch and spend about fifty minutes at a food market in Soho, and we pass by Brooklyn Bridge on the way. The market where we stop for lunch is a huge supermarket but there’s enormous trays of fresh cooked self serve hot food and freshly prepared cold food. We are told to not get too excited though as here you pay by weight. There’re two sizes of containers large and small and the cost of lunch is determined at the check out at $8 USD per pound. I have chargrilled chicken and some fresh noodles with vegetables in a honey soy sauce for $13.75 USD. It is delicious.
From the market it’s onto the ferry terminal to catch the next ferry to Staten Island and return. We are not staying on Staten Island however, we are merely enjoying the trip over and back looking at the Manhattan and Long Island skylines, boats and port features of New York. The ferry is free and rapidly fills with people that pour through its huge open access doors at the rear. The ferry then sets its sights on a direct route to Staten Island whilst almost everyone on board sets their sights on the stunning receding skyline of Manhattan, and then the looming, yet imposing rather svelte figure of New York’s most famous icon, The Statue of Liberty. We are with James at the back of the boat at sea level, and there’s an open back, so it’s a great spot for photography. The sea air is fresh, fragrant and the water of the Atlantic today is a stunning mix of turquoise, teal, emerald and aqua.
The cruise to Staten island is all too brief though, then we hightail it, as per James’ instructions from the ferry drop off point to the ferry pick up point, and within five minutes of arriving at Staten Island we are then returning to Manhattan to enjoy the harbour views from the opposite direction. The ferry we ride on for the return trip however is more enclosed so the pics are not as good as I’m looking through windows or restricted in where I can shoot. The ferry rides both directions on the harbour are however, outstandingly, a highlight of the day.
We return to the coach outside the terminal then trek our way to the 9/11 Memorial, at the site of the Twin Towers disaster. The memorial comprises a new box shaped building that sits on an angle (which we are visiting tomorrow), and two striking huge square recessed water features that sit on the site of the Twin Towers, set amongst beautiful gardens. The names of the victims of the 9/11 tragedy are etched into steel plate that decorates the flat upper rim of the outer edge of the square memorials, in bold lettering. It is a touching memorial and permanent recognition for those who lost their lives. The water features are a place of beauty, serenity and tranquility set amongst the bustle and banter of urban Manhattan. Again, but for the final time we return to the coach. The tour concludes at 2:50 pm, an hour earlier than expected, and soon we are disembarking back where we started the day. MB and I immediately head to a cafe on Seventh Avenue for a coffee and some free wifi.
From the cafe we then walk to the hotel where I shower and get ready for our Broadway Show tonight “The Book of Mormon,” at the Eugene O’Neill Theatre which is only a few blocks away. We dress up a little although many who are attending the performance tonight wear smart casual. The theatre inside is a step back into time. It is an historical building, rich in appointments and plush with adornment with carved wood ceilings studded with crystal chandeliers. The seats are carved bent wood with pink velvet cushioning and the stage is beautiful with a huge lovely painted scene of clouds. The picture on the curtain seems to bleed back into other areas of the theatre with planets and stars in spaces further to the sides and above.
The story is hilariously funny, and was written by the writers of the hit series South Park. It is a musical, and the singers are vibrant and captivating but it helps to have some knowledge of the Mormon religion even though the storyline covers most bases regarding this. I loved every minute and all too soon it was over, the actors were taking their bows, and we were leaving. From the theatre MB and I walk back to the hotel then onto one of the streets a little further away from the nearby Times Square so we can find some dinner. It is 9:45 pm, a little late, but we find a great Italian restaurant and we both have a different dish of freshly made authentic Italian pasta. About four shops down is an Italian ice cream parlour where we get dessert on the way home. MB orders ice cream in a cup but I order a cone and the ice cream guy makes me an elaborate ice cream rose. Obviously it doesn’t affect the taste but it looked sensational simply because it was unique. And I chalk it up to another amazing New York memory to take away from this trip. The night markets operating over the road from the hotel each night is our last stop before going inside the hotel. An amazing end to another fabulous day, in the fabulous city, New York.
Day Forty – 24th. October – Monday – Rise and shine this morning at 6:55 am as there’s a busy day ahead. Out the door after breakfast by 8:00 am, and MB and I head to the subway. The wrong direction. About face, back to the hotel which is on 46th. Street, then we head off again, this time with our bearings correct. Suri the GPS on MB’s phone confirms we finally have it right.
We get to 42nd. Street and find the subway entrance and head down into the bowels of New York where we contemplate the strategy of buying Metro cards. No day passes here as in London or system where you can just load money on Australia’s MYKI card but there’s a $9.00 USD option good for seven days plus $1.00 for the ticket, so we figure that might be just about the right amount we’ll need. We purchase two. We head into the platforms area after swiping our Metro tickets and then head underground on a very steep escalator even further down, into the deep deep deeper bowels of New York. It’s not unlike the tube in London I think, a similar set up, but it seems hotter than in the streets above so far down.
We are heading downtown, to the Twin Towers Museum and the underground train takes us the entire way with no train changes. And we know we can’t get it wrong as our destination this morning is the end of the line. We get out and walk the direction we imagine the building is, but have got it wrong again, then reverse direction, and head down towards the 9/11 Museum site a few minutes later. We are four short blocks from where the tragedy occurred. The Twin Towers Museum is built on the site of the former Twin Towers as a memorial to those who lost their lives on September the 11th. 2001 when the two buildings collapsed. There are also two large square water features built on the exact spots where the towers had stood.
The buildings in this area are very striking. There’s some older buildings near here of course, but the newer ones tower over these and cut some interestingly different but very distinct shape patterns into the skyline. One looks a little like a tall game of Jenga blocks, another, the World Trade Center Transportation Hub, designed by architect Santiago Calatrava is like a hair comb with the hinge joint at the top, a third is like a regular square skyscraper with a slice off one corner removed right down one side for some of its length. Buildings which famous architects have enjoyed the freedom and diversity of engineering design to create for this extremely cosmopolitan city. The roads are presently being improved however so we are diverted around cordoned off areas as we trek towards the museum, and there’s a lot of new road and building construction.
The museum has regular guided tours, and ours begins this morning at 9:30 am. Our group of about fifteen people head off, each with a headset and portable transmitter around their necks, thankfully leaving hands free for taking photos. The building is spacious inside, interesting, with a lot of angled corridors and walls, walkways and open areas with high ceilings. We are permitted to freely photograph the outer areas in the museum which have numerous interesting displays, including debris from the building in the form of girders, part of the actual below ground level wall of one of the towers which is now an archeological site, part of the aerial that was on top of one tower, the smashed up remains of a fire truck, the last steel girder to be removed from the site and a collection of beautiful photographs taken by a French photographer of the site taken in the days immediately after 9/11 during the rescue attempt.
In the very centre of the museum is a closed off area to photography. A second more private museum area full of items that were from the actual site, personal items, photographs, film displays and artefacts. Controversial items like photographs and film footage of people jumping to their deaths from the buildings.
Currently I’m standing next to a man who is watching this footage, whilst holding the hand of his four year old. The four year old too, is watching the footage. And I shake my head wondering why the father thinks it’s suitable that his child should see the footage he is presently transfixed watching. I move on, and see keys, shoes, a comb, glasses, a wallet. There’s information attached to the items as to precisely where they were found. Nearby there’s further film footage of the towers coming down. It’s on loop so it’s a repeat, and you see the buildings collapse over and over again.
Words recorded in print that were spoken that day by air hostesses on the plane that crashed, messages recorded on message bank by those on the plane saying goodbye to their loved ones. Tape recordings in an audio theatre playing the voices of those trapped in the buildings with two tower silhouettes and a spotlight pointing to exactly where the message was sent from and by whom. Transmitted messages converted to text from the services that attended the towers that day, fire department, emergency services, the police department. Photographs and film of each of the sites affected, the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania.
Slo-mo film of the plane entering The Pentagon, a sliver of nose cone only, before and after. This one you have to watch the recorded footage repeatedly to actually see the single frame of the object that appears to be a plane nose cone or you miss it. Film of the smoke from the plane that came down. The twin tower’s debris including a solid mass of compacted debris. And I pause to wonder by this exhibit, if there are actually people compacted in the huge mashed up metal brick as well. There are dozens and dozens of exhibits, and it is heart wrenching. Extraordinarily moving. Emotionally disturbing. And finally emotionally draining to view.
We leave the museum about 11:30 pm and start looking for The National Museum of the North American Indian building which we saw yesterday, only a short distance away. We head in the right direction and ask three people but know one knows where it is. We didn’t imagine seeing it but nobody has a clue of what we are talking about. So after a futile effort to locate it we decide instead to walk to the Brooklyn Bridge which is a fair distance away. We head across to Broadway Street, then we follow the signs but stop on the way at a street vendor’s van and buy our first NYC street food, a chicken kebab for me, which smells divine, and MB has a vegetarian dish, a potato and vegetable patty. The chicken kebab I realise is the exact smell I’ve been smelling for the last three days whilst walking the streets in NYC. A smoky charcoal grilled chicken with a soy marinade.
We are soon on the bridge and heading towards Brooklyn, walking the track that runs up the bridge’s centre that is designated for walking and bike riders. The tingle of bicycle bells every so often means get out of the way, and the people walking both paths in both lanes on the busy thoroughfares quickly move across to the right when they hear the bicycle’s chime, to let oncoming riders through. It’s not a hard walk but we are glad for a break when we get to the first huge columns on the Manhattan side of the suspension bridge. The photography from here looking back at the city skyline is marvellous, grand even, and I get some wonderful panoramic shots of the distinctive Manhattan high rise skyline with both my camera and phone.
On to the bridge’s second set of columns, then more photos, then, over to Brooklyn. MB and I are unsure of how to get back once we make the other side though and briefly consider a taxi but I think there has to be a subway. We head to a small park to the right hand side of the bridge on the Brooklyn side and I notice a subway entrance. MB asks the attendant at the entrance and the attendant says yes, the subway goes to Manhattan, so MB and I head underground again to a very steep, steep escalator but this time we trek literally into the bowels of Brooklyn. Then we catch the underground subway, which passes under the Hudson River, all the way uptown to Central Park. Couldn’t have been easier. Swipe the card. Down the escalator into hot hell. Jump on the train, and about fifteen minutes later, we emerge and soon arrive in Central Park.
MB and I head to a coffee shop restaurant near the park first though, for a bite to eat and restroom. There we order French Onion Soup. It is exceptional, delightful, thick, rich and home made, with sour dough in chunks in it and a big glob of tasty cheese grilled on the top. And at $17 USD I’ve never eaten anything like this, comfort food certainly, and it’s a stand out. I also order a pot of tea and then take advantage of the free wifi uploading pics on Facebook and sending one of my daughter’s an email.
After our impromptu 3:00 pm lunch we walk Central Park, and enjoy the sunshine and warmth of this late autumn October day amongst nature. There are children playing and climbing on huge rocks to our left, couples and tourists strolling along the footpaths nearby, bike riders pulling carriages ahead on a road across the way, some horses and buggies to one side, and people of all ages exercising their dogs. Further on I see squirrels, burying acorns and chasing each other in a frenzy of activity. Autumn leaves are gently falling all around and then I hear the chimes of a carousel. MB and I walk to a small pavilion and inside is a huge old fashioned carousel with horses and a carriage that’s just begging for a six year old to ride. MB and I pay $3.00 each and climb aboard and we are delighted with our choice and laugh our way around with a herd of gently bobbing horses and a heap of exuberant adults all doing likewise. It really is a lot of fun and we feel like little children instead of older middle aged women for the next five minutes.
Strolling on further after our carousel ride, we pat a large, beautifully brushed dog. The owner says sit and the dog Bentley promptly sits. We compliment the owner and remark how obedient the dog is and the owner just laughs admitting, too frankly perhaps, that the dog, in her opinion, is quite dumb. She adds it took five years to teach him how to sit. We all laugh, it’s such a rude thing to say about her best friend but Bentley the dog isn’t listening. He is simply sitting, is smiling, and is happy with his world ATM.
After leaving Central Park we find the subway terminal again on 59th. Street and ride the train towards the hotel alighting at the corner of 50th. Street and 7th. Avenue. It’s only four blocks to 46th. Street then almost a block to our hotel. We calculate and agree we’ve probably clicked up about ten kilometres today on foot, so our fitness is quite good.
After an hour’s rest at the hotel, and after MB has also showered and changed, we head out to find dinner around 7:00 pm. Another Italian restaurant and there we sit down for another sumptuous meal of pasta. I also have tea and then call my daughter so she can say hi to MB for the first time.
By 9:00 pm we are back at the hotel and packing for an early departure tomorrow and I’m looking forward to Grand Central Station and our road trip to Honeoye Falls, MB’s home town, first thing tomorrow. I say, bring it on…….
Go to https://www.travelessae.com.au/part-five-b-new-york-city-usa-to-niagara-falls-canada for Part Five B – New York City USA to Niagara Falls Canada to read more of my blog Around The World in Seventy Five Days ……..