I awoke early saturday morning after a blurry karaoke&goodbye filled night, and a mere 2 hours sleep, ready to furiously pack my bag and set off in a car with my sister and my brother's girlfriend for my very first ever trip to NYC. (Yes, that's right my lovelies, I am 27, live in montreal, work in a creative profession, and have never been to NYC. It's a mystery to me too.)Also, this was not simply a departure to NY, but a departure from Montreal; over the next three weeks i'll be in Montreal for a grand total of another 2.5 days before I leave for Australia where I will stay for up to 12 months.. The reality of my departure is setting in fast!
The 7 hour road trip teaches me 3 things. First, my laptop battery is nearing the end of its life, and making a driving playlist/CD is a task best finished *before* climbing into the backseat of the car. Second, indulging in truck-stop junk food is wildly tempting and promises to satisfy a bizarre culinary guilty-pleasure related somehow to a childhood of eating *good* food, but is never as enjoyable as my imagination promise. Third, most of the 'cheese' used at Taco Bell is of the kraft slices variety. ick.
We cross the bridge into NYC at 5pm. The city looms as we approach, and the drive thru is an odd experience of finally seeing in person the urban landscape so familiar to me already through pop culture. Wide, car-filled streets with tall buildings and packed sidewalks. Lovely building facades with fire escapes unceremoniously tacked on top. Occasional square of greenspace overflowing with active New Yorkers of all ages enjoying the sun, heat, and company. A few minutes later in central Manhattan we are greeted by a friendly woman named Ximena whose apartment we are renting for three days. As she 'gives us the tour', she serves us homemade lemonade and then takes us up to a rooftop party with an incredible view of the city skyline. That evening we dine at Schiller's where I gorge on a delicious cuban sandwich and marvel at the lettering (numbering?) on the bottles that line the wall. We then drive over to brooklyn and spend the night getting strikes & gutterballs at "The Gutter", a great bowling alley with good beer, 70s furniture and a cozy bar. We cap off the night back in Manhattan with some typical new york pizza, and discuss how post-drinking eateries seem to be a great equalizer, bringing all kinds of people together at the end of the night, united by their love of greasy hangover-preventing snacks, sitting elbow to elbow devouring different-but-similar slices of pizza.
Sunday we get up less-than-bright-and-early for an eagerly awaited brunch/lunch at Cafe Habana on Prince Street. The food is great, the highlight being the Grilled Cornonthecob covered with Queso Blanco, chili powder and lime. We think we see Perez Hilton, but are disappointed a quick blackberry-internet-picture-check later. After a wander through the designer markets and a subway trip, we find ourselves basking in the sun with about 1000 other sunbathers in central park, in 'sheep field'. We then groggily stroll over to the MOMA where we finish the days activities off with a rushed-1h-before-closing survey of art and design from 1870-1940. Seeing Les Desmoiselles D'Avignon in person is pretty overwhelming! I take in 1940-present in about 5 minutes as the guards corral us towards down-only-escalators 5 minutes before closing. Tired, we head back to the apartment, making a quick stop at Wholefoods for some hor d'oeuvres and a bottle of Rose which we happily devour back on the rooftop, watching a pale pink sun set over the NYC skyline. Dinner is Indian, drinks are at a half empty club, and the night finishes happily with cider and lemondrop shots on yet another improvised rooftop terrace (read: kitchen chairs on tarpaper) this time in Brooklyn. We get to bed around 4, simultaneously excited for and dreading another full day in NY.
Not surprisingly, monday sees us rising late, and we don't make it out till at least 11. We basically spend the afternoon doing lots of rushed shopping, including gawking at haute couture and anticipating celebrity spottings in SOHO. (no dice.) Another rushed museum visit, the Guggenheim this time, is discussed, but rejected thanks to everyone's mutual need to retreat to the apartment for a nap! A few hours later, we are off to see Ricky Gervais do a standup act at Madison Square Gardens. The spectacle is exciting, the act is hilarious, only slightly marred for me by the fact that i've seen about 70% of the show already on DVD a week earlier. But this allows me to discover first-hand how excellent an actor Gervais is, with his rehearsed-but-convincingly-spontaneous style. We take in Times Square, a spectacle best seen at night to be sure. I wind my way through crowds perched on the curb watching baseball on a screen overhead, passionate couples arguing loudly, long lines of caricaturists with thier prey, and other tourists like myself tripping over each other as we look nowhere but up and/or through our cameras. To finish off the night, we head to Jamon for some lovely Rioja and tasty Spanish tapas. The quail en escabeche disappears much too quickly, as does the pickled sardines and the freshly cut serrano ham. Inspired, I vow to actively embark on an education in wine appreciation. About 7 years too late, but better late than never.
And with that vow ends my first trip to New York City. Tuesday morning we're up early for our flight, and after minimal security checks (i did have to take off my shoes) we're on a plane back to Canada. Next stop: Manitoba; Winnipeg, then Neepawa, for tons of family catch-up, lots of tea, BBQed food and soft-serve ice cream, the Neepawa 125th homecoming / lily festival, and a re-grounding in half of my confused cultural background - the prarie.
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