I thought Melbourne taxi drivers were mad but the crazy Jamaican cat who drove us from Newark Airport into New York City rewrote the book on the subject. Never content to just sit in one lane, he cursed, barged, menaced and beeped his way into the Big Apple, and then wondered why this superior form of customer service did not result in a bigger tip.
Our hotel was really good though. Just down from Madison Square Gardens and Penn Station, it was an ideal location for us. We rendezvoused with John and Bev and their daughter Julia (currently working in Canada) later that afternoon and it was so good to see them after being away from Perth for so long. We didn’t venture far from the hotel that evening as we all knew that the “wall” was coming and John and Bev would hit it hard and drop quickly so we trawled the nearby streets and settled on a Persian restaurant (Iranian restaurants are soo PI in the western world aren’t they). The food was good but what we didn’t see on the board outside the restaurant was that there was also entertainment – in the form of a belly dancer who duly commenced to wobble and gyrate as the lights dimmed and the background music arched up. It was apparent from the get-go that she had her eyes set on John and sure enough he was beckoned to join her on the dance floor and shake his booty. Shy as he is, he did manage to oblige her with a few dazzling moves of his own, prompting her to lift her act another notch by balancing a rather menacing sword on her head, her thigh and on her ample rack. It was impressive stuff.
They did hit the wall, but they bounced back the next day and we set off for a walk on the High Line, a converted railway track on the west side of the city. Apparently freight trains were mowing down so many New Yorkers way back when that they elevated the train line to separate the pedestrians. Now it’s an elevated garden and walkway and a tribute to the city. And that night – Mexican at Chito’s Bar! $5 Margaritas and I think they brought some food to us too.
Next day was Memorial Day where the US honours its military servicemen (and women), be they returned, serving or otherwise and there were numerous uniformed personnel walking in the streets. There even may have been a parade somewhere. We went on a Rock Walking Tour through the East Village with a dubious character named Bobby Pinn, but he sure knew his stuff and we were soon agog as we stood on the spot where Joey Ramone slipped on an icy pavement outside of his apartment, dying of wounds sustained in the fall. More shock followed as we stood before the hallowed Fillmore East – home of some of the great albums and concerts - but which was inconspicuous to say the least. We would have walked on by without giving it a second glance. Bobby covered the East Side’s musical history from Leadbelly through Charley Parker to Madonna. It was a good long walk but NYC turned on a hot humid day and we finished in a bar nursing a cold drink.
More music completed our time there. A Broadway piece called Once which was apparently a movie that I never saw but a great concept musical play with the actors all accomplished musicians and singers – very enjoyable. On our last night we went to a Jazz Club, Birdland (it’s pretty famous) with the act being Ravi Coltrane, son of the great John of MJQ fame. I had not judged the depth of Maurs’ disdain for modern jazz up to that night- now I know! However I loved it – the music was great.
We also took in a few traditional cultural haunts as well. The Museum of Natural History is a must-see. More fossils than the Battersea Old People’s Home. Maurs became absorbed in the mineralogy displays- spectacular gemstones and gold. We spent a half a day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I reckon that the Yanks have plundered the planet as much as the Poms as the “acquisitions” there are simply stunning in their quality and range. The Obelisk in Central Park is another fine example – it’s a long way from Egypt now Dorothy!
And I simply could not go to NYC without a look at Central Park, Strawberry Fields and the Dakota building. John Lennon’s presence is still so strong in that area and there are lots of people who make the pilgrimage as we did to pay tribute. You got to give New York ten out of ten. We only scratched the surface of the place- there is so much more to see. And New Yorkers get such a bad wrap - but they are pretty good people by and large.
Our exit was ordinary enough. A cab to the airport – a drink in the British Airways Lounge and off into the sunset to LA and on to Brisbane – except for one extraordinary coincidence. The (male) flight attendant on the LA to Brisbane leg asked whether I had studied at the University of Queensland. When I said yes he told me he had recognised me – we were in the same Chemistry class – and he had checked the passenger list and thought he remembered my name. I racked my poor failing memory cells and came up with a vision of a nerdy guy who used to sling a large wooden slide-rule (remember those!) on his belt like a sword. Anyway, it was his second last trip before retirement – and it was good to see a chemist gainfully employed.
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