This city doesn't sleep, but I need a bit of a kip.

Day Three

We walked Brooklyn Bridge after breakfast. For the first time we pulled the wrong rein on the subway and ended up in a dodgy area, but the local UBER, called LYFT, picked us up after an excruciating three minute wait. It is Sunday and therefore very crowded, so our intended eatery, a famous Italian pizza joint was at the end of a very, very long queue. We decided to walk the bridge on only an ice cream each, instead. Despite thousands doing the same thing, it was fabulous. Excellent views, nice photos.

 Marty, John and I bought some very fetching headwear, not just for its smart, man about town look, but to help boost the local economy. We saw City Hall. I insisted that Police Commisioner Gordon didn't work here because he is a fictional character working in Gotham City, but Marty was hard to shift on this point. He also wants to know why Colonel Klink isn't celebrated in the German section of town. Still some work to do there.

Debbie cooked pasta, it was sensational. We then ubered down to the village (notice my ease with the local terminology) to try out the famous cocktail bar recommended to us "Employees Only." It is in the top ten in the world apparently. I thought I would schmooze my way into their good books by dropping in that my son works at Bulletin Place in Sydney, expecting no response, but to my surprise the bar manager was all over it. I said Nick would love to work here and he said he would love to work there. 

We enjoyed our cocktails, though I was a little underwhelmed by my Manhattan, the first I have ever tried. I was a little bit short of comparative data on the subject, especially expected growth, so I won't say more until the more information is at hand. 

We walked back to Marie's Crisis Cafe to take in the piano singalong Broadway style. What a great bar. It seems that all of the failed Broadway would bes head here to sing their lungs out to prove the critics wrong, so you are hearing brilliant singing and can join in on the chorus of Oklahoma if you want.

Don't sing the wrong words or come in too soon. You will be completely on your own. They have everything word perfect.

A brilliant concept for a bar. They took it to Sydney two years ago and it was a big hit. 

It was a great night. We had a lovely ice cream afterwards. A big, gay ice cream. 

Michele was reunited with her friend and they hugged, much happier that we had been inside and had a sing.

Bedtime.

Day Four

Down to Times Square. We had tickets to see Michael Moore's show, The Terms of my Surrender. It was absolutely brilliant. It was something like a Democrat's rally, a one man show about Trump and the USA today. It was witty, funny and thought provoking. There were parts of his own life story intertwined with the anti Trump stuff, but it also highlighted the inequalities and injustices in the US system. Never too heavy, always with a laugh. It finished with him facing his greatest fear - dancing in public, trying to encourage people to make noise about Trump rather than sit back and do nothing. And male strippers. Not sure what the point was there - buff men love to get naked? Don't know.

We followed up with a lunch at Carmine's, real mafia style Italian restaurant, like in da movies. So we had da Lasagne and da Strawberry Shortcake. HUGE servings, really scrummy. Our waiter was an Eddie Murphy clone.

Then we waddled out into the madness of Times Square as the sun was setting. Just mayhem, people everywhere, the neon billboards are like mountains and the scale of everything dwarfs you. The centre of the city and it just buzzes with excitement.

Walked home to try to offset the volume of carbs we had forced down, it's along way back, but the arteries needed a de-clog.

Day Five

Found, finally, a better than passable coffee shop, not far from our apartment, so it's stored away in the memory bank.

Off to Central Park. It is so iconic(what isn't around here?) everyone knows it from TV and movies, but the big surprise is how beautiful it really is. It is huge so the crowds spread out and it give it a homely feel, no matter where you are. Loved visiting the John Lennon inspired corner where they have sectioned off a garden area called "Strawberry Fields', adjacent to the Dakota Building where he lived and died.

Then a really nice little stop in a lakeside cafe, where we got the first poor service we have experienced anywhere, then onto the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Met was bloody marvellous. We gave ourselves two hours, not nearly enough, but we covered a fair bit and soaked up some Picasso, Seurat, Manet, El Greco and some Dutch guy who, to be honest, got a little dull - endless selfies even when he wasn't looking his best. And heaps more. Loved the little artefacts from Assyrian Empire, incredible detail in works that are 6 000 years old. How come microwave ovens only last two years?

Michele was very interested in the Sunday in the Park with George painting of Seurat, pointillism style.

Central Park was a blast.

Michele and I met up with Clare on the steps of St Patrick's Cathedral. I used the opportunity to pay a little visit for meditation and contemplation and recharge my batteries. Clare is here for Isa's hen's week in Las Vegas (as you do) and we took her to Times Square and then a few little drinkies. It was great to catch up. In the meantime John and Debbie visited the UN to drop off his CV. They wanted to pay their respects to the Aussie flag, but when he saw Zimbabwe knew he had started at the wrong end of the 193 poles. So they started their trek down. But, they pull them down at 4 and they start from the other end. By the time they had reached A, the man had pulled down his first couple of flags. Damn!

Off to the Top of The Rock - The Rockefeller Centre. Very high. Michele has a history of getting a bit cross at very high monuments filled with people. Reminiscent of Eiffel Tower (1990) and Arc de Triomphe (2013), she became a little terse with the tourists who refused to move back from the edge, cause she was close to the edge herself. Determined to get her 70 bucks worth of view, we queued for a photo spot, while the mob got a piece of her mind. This was poorly organised and overpriced, but hell, no big deal, top view.

Sliders at the English pub, then bed. Another full on day. New York is amazing.

Day Six

Late start. A relaxed morning, then we high tailed it to the lower east side for the Tenement Museum. I really loved this. It is a tenement building that has been converted into various museums, each one a re created home from a time in history, based on the records of the families who lived there. With interactive displays, it was a real insight into the lives of the people of New York, in particular the ethnic groups, Russian Jews, Irish Catholics, Chinese and how they took over this part of the city. Would really recommend this place, different and fascinating. But no photos allowed, what a shame. 

Michele and I then secured tickets for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for 7 pm for the group. Half ticks again, this time down in Brooklyn where there was no queue.

We took the subway back down to Broadway, had a drink, then into see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Despite the 6 dollar chocolates, they never miss a chance to cash in on the kiddies, the show was good, then very good. The second act is really memorable, Christian Borle, Willy Wonka, was a one man show, almost to rival Gene Wilder in the original. If they work on the first twenty minutes, it will be a big hit.

Pizza then bed.

New York

Day One

We have had two full on, full speed (well, limp speed) days in The Big Apple. What an amazing place!

The taxi in from the airport was excruciatingly slow, but traffic is a nightmare, of course. We found our accommodation, top spot. We are on Lexington and E 30th, only a few blocks from the Empire State, in Little India, so the curries should be easy to find. We had some brekkie. Our first taste of New York food servings. Unbelievable. The pancakes were the size of Tontine pillows, three per serve plus a kilo of fried potatoes and an omelette that weighed more than my hand luggage. 

A man on a bicycle got hit by a car while we were waiting for a table and sirens were going non stop.

Our apartment is bloody great. View of the city through the high windows in the main room, a balcony and a roof top. I cannot imagine what this place would be worth.

Rested, shopped, then off to the 9/11Memorial. Negotiated the subway, an unlimited ticket for seven days, and made our way down to the financial district where the Twin Towers once stood. We were here in 1990 and took the lift up the towers, so to come back was pretty disturbing. Actually much more than I thought it would be. The Memorial and the museum were brilliantly done, both moving and darkly fascinating. The only part that stuck in my throat a little was the highly political opening film to set the context. It was a very strong defence of the US follow up featuring Tony Blair and George Dubya and was probably unnecessary. The place spoke for itself and didn't need any political slant, but I understand how this attack must have gutted the country.

Incredible place. I have thought about 9/11 so many times walking through the streets over the past two days.

We jumped on The Staten Island ferry. Every sign, every street, every subway map puts a song in your head. Billy Joel, Steely Dan more than most. "Between you and me and the Staten Island Ferry" is in my head non stop. The ferry is the best way to see The Statue of Liberty, it is a free ride and we did it at sunset, so got to see Liberty in both daylight and night lit. An impressive monument. Wonder what D Trump makes of the "huddled masses" it was supposed to symbolise protection for. Hmm.

A nice feed, pizza slices at home.

Day Two

Our New York Greeter met us at 10.00 am at the front of our apartment and introduced himself. Jules. Old limpy guy, which suited Maryanne and me, the two limpiest. The pace was slow and so was his delivery. Loved him from the first "whaddyagonnado" to the last "go figure" We negotiated a tour, settling on one of his favourites - The High Line to Greenwich Village. Jules is eighty something, a Greeter for eight years. It is a voluntary, free service from two up to four hours and at first I didn't think Jules would last twenty minutes. But his pace was strategic and allowed everyone to keep up and gave us time to take everything in. 

First the subway to the High Line. It commences close to Times Square, an abandoned elevated rail track that was built in 1880s in order to transport goods to the factories that were in this end of town. It is now a walk that skirts the western edge of the city on which they have let the wild flowers grow. It takes in the new residential areas, which are going up at the rate of knots, just huge skyscrapers that will allow tens of thousands more to live in this overcrowded city, then it brings you eventually to the West Village where the old arty NYC still thrives today. 

Jules took us to a hidden art gallery that was full of brilliant stuff, into the West Chelsea Markets, the original Nabisco factory and onto the pub (White Horse!) where Dylan Thomas had his last bender before going home and dying. As we were probably going to do, given the miles we were covering.

Sex and The City featured, as well as the palace once occupied by Richard Gere, nice cupcakes, a decent coffee(the first) and much much much more.

When we finally came to Washington Square, much nicer than Michele and I remembered from 1990. We bought some anti Trump fridge magnets, there is a huge anti Trump feel to NY. Jules said only Staten Island voted pro Trump. We had been with Jules for 5 and a half hours.

You are not allowed to tip The Greeter. What? He gets nothing but the coffee and cup cake we shouted him. An incredible service! He was just amazing. An ex Civil Engineer, Lecturer, Sculptor, Writer who knew NYC like the back of his hand. Here's to Jules and his wobbly hips, incredulatious.

Ok.

A nice pub meal, then back home, then the big New York kick on!

First we hit a local bar where the helpful barmaid suggested it was too quiet in our local area and we should hit the village. She suggested a mixology bar down there, so we Ubered down. Nick knows of the bar, it's famous, "Employees Only" but we couldn't get in. Makes sense I suppose!

So we went to get some money from an ATM that kept our Keycard. Gutted! Never mind, we were here to rage, so we stuck our chin out, snubbing poor fortune and squeezed into a jazz bar. It was buzzing. The music was sensational. Steve Wonder, Boz Skaggs, Steely Dan covers that were spot on. The lead guitarist, who John met later, was Larry Carltonesque. The SD licks were perfect. A female vocalist joined them and she was sensational.

When we poured out into the street, Michele teamed up with a little gay man touting his bar next door, Marie's Crisis Cafe. It is a piano bar where you get to sing musical theatre numbers, they were doing "Company" tonight. He cried because Michele loves Company and she couldn't get to sing. He hugged her and felt better. Then he cried again because he loves Steven Sondheim. So, he hugged her and couldn't let go because she was coming back the next night, no matter what. So glad he wasn't the bouncer, I don't think he would be very good at that.

THEN...we Ubered home. There were two fire engines out the front of our apartment and firemen were in our entrance way. PANIC.

Other guests were crowded into the doorway, I was looking for smoke. When the fireman said to Michele, frowning, "I wouldn't go up there ma'am," I choked.

Then he added "Only joking." A false alarm. Huge relief.

So, to celebrate our escape at 1.30 am we went and had Indian one block down at "Curry in a Hurry."

Bangladeshi cricket tragic waiter and sensational food.

Bed, bay bay. Big day.