The Big Apple

We left The Met and walked to our hotel so that Laurel could take a little nap and ice her ankle. She had severely injured it the year before and it hurt her from time to time. I went to the hotel’s weight room and lifted weights while she slept. Just because I was on vacation didn’t mean that I needed to slack off in my routine. Laurel woke up about 8:00 and we had a nice dinner before taking the subway to Grand Central Station, which was cavernous and filled with light tan marble. From Grand Central we took another train to a stop near the Empire State Building. After posing for some pictures in the lobby, we waited in line for an hour to buy our tickets ($21) and for the elevator to take us to the 89th floor observation deck. We were there at 11:30 at night, I don’t even want to fathom the wait time for a tour at noon on a Saturday… The elevator was super-fast and dumped us out right in the middle of the gift shop – strategic marketing. I led the way as we walked out onto the crowded observation deck. The Empire State Building is also a radio and television transmission tower. Laurel was video taping us and the sites from the top and she noticed that the picture in her viewer went fuzzy and a TV image started to superimpose over our video image, so we turned the camera off.

Laurel looked a little out of sorts on the observation deck, but I thought it was all the people swirling around us. Apparently not. Laurel discovered while we were 89 stories off the ground that she was afraid of heights. Her fear didn’t turn her into a pile of slobbering jelly, crouching next to a wall, though. She held up really well, even making it around the observation deck twice before we headed down. As we hit solid pavement, Laurel mentioned that her trip to the Empire State Building was not the highlight of her trip and probably not something that she would do again.

Laurel says: Ever since I was a little girl I have been afraid of heights, although it’s never stopped me from climbing a ladder without someone at the bottom to hold it, or from riding elevators to the top of tall buildings. I have been to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago and a number of high-rise apartment buildings and hotels in San Francisco. Although the Sears tower is the tallest building in America at 110 stories high, one crucial difference between it and the ESB is that the observation area on the 103rd floor is a huge room completely enclosed by windows. The top of the Empire State Building is nothing more than a huge walkway surrounding the giant broadcasting needle, 1050 feet in the air. Only a set of iron bars separates you from an impending fall. The moment I stepped out onto the deck and turned off the camera, I noticed my legs felt heavy and almost magnetized to stay just where they were. I had to force myself to peer between the bars and I gave Matt my unhappiest face when he requested that we get our picture taken. (Did you know he is an aspiring Japanese tourist?) Ever the attentive gentleman, Matt said it would be fine if we left, but I figured we had already paid and waited in line for so long, we might as well hang out up there a little while. The view of the city was amazing at that height. Bronze map guides were posted at all four sides of the deck, showing tourists exactly what sites they were looking at (buildings, bridges, neighborhoods, etc.) Matt and I made two complete trips around the perimeter and then we boarded the elevator down. I was a much happier girl once we were on the pavement again. Matt joked with me the rest of the weekend about my “favorite building in all of New York.”

There were a couple of things about the observation deck experience that I found to be a little quirky: The top of the building is illuminated by powerful green spotlights and when the sparrows and pigeons that roost near the antenna take flight at night they glow radioactive-green like crazy miniature UFOs. Also, the edge of the observation deck is protected by spiked steel bars that show evidence of being extended twice. It looks as if when the building was first opened the bars just went straight up about three feet. This didn’t seem to deter people from taking the elevator ride to the top, walking to the railing, climbing up and jumping to their death. The bars were extended up another two feet and arched back toward the observation deck another two feet. This also proved not to be a sufficient deterrent to those wishing to link their life and death to the historic structure, so the claw-like bars were extended back another foot. I’m not sure if this has completely stopped people from jumping off, but in theory the bars are more of an obstacle and it takes someone longer to climb them, giving security personal time to grab them before they make a final leap. ‘It’s not the fall that kills you; it is the sudden stop at the end.’

We took the subway back to the hotel that night. We laughed and joked about the day and the sites until 2:00am, when we fell asleep. The next morning we slept in, as you do on vacations, and didn’t get out the door until 11:00. I wanted us to go and see a Broadway show while we were in New York. There is a cash-only same-day-of-show ticket booth in Time Square that sells deeply discounted tickets and we waited in line there for about an hour before we got to the front and were told that only matinee tickets were sold before 3:00. We weren’t going to wait in line for another three hours as we had stuff to do and see, so we decided to skip the Broadway show and do something else that night.

After leaving the Times Square without Broadway tickets, we dropped by the hotel to retrieve our all-important Lonely Planet guide book that one of us (Laurel says: It was me!) had left on the ironing board and took the A train to The Cloisters. Since mentioning New York as a destination, Laurel’s main request was to see The Cloisters, which is a part of The Met, but is located close to the bank of the Hudson River near the northernmost point of Manhattan Island. It was a museum of Gothic and Medieval architecture, iconography, art, furniture and tapestry, the most famous of which was the set of seven “unicorn” tapestries. That series depicts the hunt and capture of a unicorn and was loaded with religious and secular symbolism. They are also amazingly detailed and well preserved. While the museum was good, it was not what we expected. Laurel is very interested in costume and clothing design of that period and we were under the impression that there was a huge display of clothing. I know that Laurel was disappointed, but she was happy to have seen the museum and its contents anyway.

We sat down for a late lunch on the edge of The Cloister garden under a portico that ringed the courtyard. It started to rain and storm with the rain coming down in sheets, thunder clapping in the distance. It was wonderful. It hadn’t rained in Southern California in months and I was starting to miss the buzz of ozone just before a storm and the air cleansing quality afterward. It only lasted an hour and it was barely drizzling when we left The Cloisters walking together under an umbrella. The air smelled so sweet and clean as we walked and talked, holding hands to the subway stop.

We wanted to tour the New York Public Library, since we are both book nuts, so it became our next stop that day. Free tours are given at 10:00 and 2:00 M-Sat. that are supposed to be one of the best free attractions in the city. We missed it, so we gave ourselves the tour and got to see a Guttenberg Bible on display. Next time I think that I will for once do the group tour thing and learn some more about the history and workings of the largest and best public library in the United States. After our “tour” we went to the library gift shop and both bought Christmas gifts for different people who are also book and library lovers.

Laurel says: Every time I see a van Gogh original I am re-reminded why he is one of my favorite artists. The heavy layers of paint and the vivid colors really do not show up in reproductions and art books. I stood in awe of Self-Portrait with a Straw Hat, a painting I have never paid much attention to before. The entire portrait is painted on a mauve-purple canvass and the details of his person are unconnected dots of color. When standing far away, it gives the illusion that the outline of the face is painted in as any other portrait would be, when in reality there is only the purple background showing through to create the outline of his face.

We were ushered out of The Met as they were locking up and sat down on the step in front to plan the rest of our night. Laurel’s ankle was hurting and she wanted to put ice on it, but she also wanted to eat dinner in Chinatown. I decided to spring for a cab, so she wouldn’t have to walk the mile or so to the closest subway stop. We then rode the subway into the heart of New York’s Chinatown. Let me note here that the NYC subway system was very convenient, felt very safe in Manhattan and locals were very happy to answer our questions, point out our train, tell us where to get off at and one gentleman even paid our toll when we entered a swipe-card-only entrance. True, some stations reek of sweat, warm stale air and old piss, but our overall experience was very positive. We walked a little way once we emerged from the subway and found a place that wasn’t too authentic for us – no ducks hanging in the window. Dinner was OK, but the service was slow. Our bill arrived and I paid in cash with a 15% tip. The waiter left a quarter on the edge of our table when he brought my receipt. Laurel had gone to the bathroom and as I was getting up from the table I was descended upon by three waiters asking about the tip. What?! They explained that the tax for the meal was not on my ticket and my “tip” had just covered the tax. Apparently, when one goes to a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown a tip is MANDITORY. I came up with another $7.00 and left quietly. I don’t think they were satisfied with the tip amount and I was very glad to see Laurel coming out the front door when she did. Those three ol’ boys looked as if they might have done me harm over the tip misunderstanding… Lesson learned.

We walked through Chinatown, getting turned around for a minute and found our way to Little Italy. There was a street fair going on that night and there were stalls of food, goods, souvenirs, religious icons and paraphernalia and ice cream lining the streets for blocks. The smell of rich Italian food hung in the air with traditional music. Laurel looked over at me after getting a nose full of the wonderful home cooked aroma and said, “Maybe we should have eaten here instead.” We bought some fruit flavored Italian ice from a cart dealer and wandered the streets sharing each other’s desert. The whole experience was a welcome surprise and a great end to a day filled with new sights and smells.

Check out time the next day was 11:00, so we slept in until 9:30, had showers, Laurel made reservations for us to eat that morning, we finished packing our things and souvenirs into our packs and went down to the lobby to settle our bill. The total for three nights was $640, which is VERY cheap for NYC standards especially considering our location. That said, it was still way too expensive for a bed, a TV and a shower. The next time I head to The Big Apple, I am making arrangements at a youth hostel. I can deal with paper thin walls, snoring guests and a lumpy mattress. For brunch that morning we went to Pastis, a French restaurant in the Meat Packing District. Laurel is a huge fan of the HBO show Sex and the City. Multiple scenes of the four main characters eating breakfast/brunch have been filmed there, so it was one of the NYC stops on Laurel’s tick list. The food was good and the service was outstanding. After our meal I had an espresso served in a small porcelain cup as it was meant to be. The whole dinning experience seemed so civilized as I sat there enjoying my delicious espresso.

We breezed past Rockefeller Center and Radio City Music Hall, grabbing a quick lunch on our way to catch the subway to head back to uptown Manhattan to meet the A train for our ride to the airport. After a one hour train ride we had to stand in line for our tickets for another hour. I had bought a tiny Swiss Army pocket knife on our second day in the city and I had forgotten to mail it before we got to the airport. No one at the ticket gate would put the letter in the mail for me and a cop who was unfriendly with Laurel also refused. I could either check it in a bag or throw it away, wasting the $15.00 it cost. As much as I despise checking bags, I took my day back out of my big pack and checked it with the knife inside.

Our flight back to LAX went without a hitch and to my surprise, my daypack was there waiting for me. We drove back to the house that night, dumped our bags on the floor and crawled into bed, passing out in just a few minutes. I came in from work the next day and Laurel asked me about “the present” I had left in her bag. She had brought a shopping bag onto the plane home as her carry on. It contained a print and a few knick-knacks. It also had a half eaten Heath Bar in it. She thought that I had eaten half of it and put it in her bag either for later or to share. First of all, I don’t eat Heath Bars. Second, I am not one to leave half a candy bar; I would have eaten the whole damn thing. How did some stranger’s candy bar get into her bag?! I’m just glad she didn’t finish it off.

Laurel says: I had a wonderful time with Matt Talley in New York City. We got to see so many amazing sights. I’m more of a restful traveler; I know if I had gone to the city on my own I wouldn’t have done half the stuff we accomplished in those three days. After we got home, I passed out and slept the sleep of the dead for 10 hours. There were a few things I wanted to see that we didn’t have time for, including the New York Museum of Modern Art and a trip through the Village. Next time I journey to NYC I’d also like to check out upstate New York, and maybe even venture over into nearby states like Maine, New Jersey or Vermont. I definitely recommend New York in August, especially if it’s a summer like this one. There didn’t seem to be too many tourists and the weather was nice most of the time. Before we arrived in NYC, Matt had asked me if I could ever see myself living there, because he had a notion to live in the city at some point in the future. New York houses some amazing museums, culture, and urban scenery, and I look forward to returning. However, on the ride home I said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t ever move there. I’m afraid it would turn me into a terrible person.” The relentless noise of the traffic, people shoving you out of the way at subway stations and while standing in line for the crosswalk, and the dirty, crowded sidewalks left me feeling a bit harassed and eager to return to the land of Sunshine.

I had to agree with Laurel: I don’t think that I could live in NYC without growing a very hard shell. It is a wonderful city with a huge amount of culture, art, language, sites, smells, vibrancy and history. I think that, for me, New York City will remain a treasured destination instead of a future home.