I Love New York

Now, I'm no Yankee, and I'm not really a fan of the Yankees, but I have been a fan in the past when my Aunt and Uncle lived in New York City. I fondly remember going up to see them a few times as a young boy; we would spend about ten days in the city seeing all the sights and just being about New York. Then we would go somewhere north, such as Maine, Vermont, Niagara Falls, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire. But it has been so long since then.

It seems I forgot why it is called "the City."

Well, after a late train to Trenton, and an even later cup of tea with Susann, I got a few hours of sleep before heading out from Princeton to New York. Her friend Sven drove us along with his friend Karina who was also there visiting for the weekend. They are both from Germany, Hamburg and Bremen, respectively. Susann is from Switzerland, and we met in Spain a year ago. Fortunately for me, they all spoke English most of the time, and they were gracious enough to kindly allow me to help them with grammar and pronunciation from time to time (I'm just glad they didn't ask me about spelling). We had a really good time getting to know each other, and more than once it helped just to have a native speaker in the group to facilitate a few things here and there.

We started out by stopping in New Jersey where we could see Manhattan across the river. It was such a cool feeling for me, having been so long absent from this, my aunt and uncle's city. Memories of the Cirlce Line, the Staten Island Ferry, and so many others just kept coming. I knew it would be a good day.

From there we took a subway over to the World Trade Center. Coming up from the subway into the station and then to the street from where I could see where once stood the Twin Towers, I felt a mist of a tear forming that had been a long time in coming. I was in Honduras on 9/11/01, and seeing "Ground Zero" for the first time in person was more than a little moving to me. For the first time I felt the loss in a more personal sense, in a way it was as if it went from knowledge to understanding to comprehension.

Our next stop was Trinity Church, which is a large cathedral style Episcopalian church which is only two blocks away. We were by no means alone in our exploration of the inner courts. We found the orchestra and choir rehearsing what could only be Handel's Messiah, which they were to perform later that day. We listened for a few minutes, but as our plans were full, we pressed on.

Just down the street is Battery Park, and from there one might take a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty. Also there is the relocated globe from the World Trade Center. It was slightly damaged in the tragedy of 9/11, and so bears the scars as a memorial.

Back into the financial district, we walked to Wall Street via Broad. We found the New York Stock Exchange, and there we took several photos of the large tree in the street. We continued northwards until we came to City Hall. It is only a block from there to the Broooklyn Bridge, so we went to the bridge for a walk. The wind was stronger and a had a tad sharper teeth, but we were prepared for the cold and still enjoyed it.

Little Italy via Chinatown came next, and we wandered a bit until we found a nice little restaurant for lunch. Here Susann ordered Gnocchi, but when it came, she didn't like it: "it's not gnocchi," she said. I warned her quietly not to tell that to the chef, but as I could see that she really wasn't going to enjoy it, I told her that she could send it back and get something else. She was worried that she would have to pay for it, but I think that it is important enough that one have an enjoyable meal at a restaurant, that I told her I would pay for it and called the waiter. He was very kind and accommadating, and as I explained the situation, that she had ordered gnocchi but didn't really like it, and could she have something else instead, he then made a few suggestions and upon hearing her choice told me that we could keep the plate of gnocchi if we liked, but that he would not charge us for it. That's my kind of waiter. Of course my friends were very happy and a little impressed, but then that is what I have come to expect of good restaurants in the US. One ought not take advantage of the server, but sometimes it is helpful to discuss these things a little with him. And of course a big tip later helps a lot too, and if it is a restaurant that one frequents, the servers always remember those who tip well (and those who don't- like Santa Claus-"they know if you tip bad or good, so tip good for goodness sake...").

After a wonder dish of Pollo di Paesano, we went to Washington Park for a few minutes before heading to the subway. By the time we caught the train to 57th street, it was past 4:30 pm, and it was getting a bit dark. A few minutes walk from there and we arrived at Central Park. I love Central Park. Central Park was the site of my first bouldering experience. I remember it well, because it was so much fun, at least until I thought I'd come down, got stuck in a spot where I couldn't see my feet below me, nor feel anything to step onto. That is when I called to my dad to help me, to save me, and then to do anything but just stand there watching me fall to me certain death. Of course I was five years old then, and my dad was busy finding his camera to preserve the moment, knowing that if I couldn't hang on long enough I would fall all of 4 or 5 inches to the large ledge below me. Somewhere there is a photo, but since I don't have it, I reproduced the moment this time (which can be seen through the link below). I am bit larger now, but just as ready and willing to climb on a boulder as I ever was.

Central Park also had a lot of people waiting to ice skate, so we passed on that, and took a walk down 5th Avenue. When we came to Trump Tower, we decided that we needed to go there (surely there would be a restroom, right? And there is). It was really fancy, but couldn't hold our attention long, because we still had miles to go before we would sleep.

A few blocks down is St. Patrick's Cathedral, which was full at the time for a Saturday evening mass, so it was hard to see. It is beautiful though. And it's Irish, so how cool is that?

Just around the corner from St. Patrick's is the Rockefeller Center. I have wanted to see it at Christmastime for years. And on this day there were thousands of people there to do the same. We pushed through the masses and made it to the entrance of the tower, where we went in and took the tour to the Top of the Rock. I don't know how tall it is, probably 60-70 floors, but we made it up there in 25 seconds. Wow. And what a view. It was fully dark by this time, and so all of New York was beuatifully lit and festive. It was a sight to see.

As we came out below the street level, we found a way to get into the Rockefeller plaza so we could see the skaters and the famous tree with the Swarovski star, which was a sight in itself.

On to Times Square, which was more for the walk and view than anything else. I didn't see anything there that I found that I had to see closer, nor did the others, so went on to Bryant Park.

At the park we found another ice rink, and since it only had about 300 people skating, we decided to join them. This was so much fun. Skating in New York City in the Christmas season with friends. What could go wrong?

Oh yeah. I'm not that good a skater. I just used to have a crush on one. That didn't help when I went horizontal and landed on my knee. I tell people to ice the knee often, but this isn't what I mean when I say it. Regardless of my own advice, it is now swollen quite a bit, so I'm having a little trouble keeping people from noticing my slight limp. It will get better soon enough. And yes, I have seen my doctor about it. Several times this weekend. He is really a good doctor, by the way. He sees me anytime, day or night.

After the skating was done, we went to Greenwich Village (pronounced "grin-itch vil-edge", not "green-which will-edge", as one of my friends thought), where after about 30 minutes of wandering, we found a great place to hear some live jazz and get some dinner. It was a place called The Garage, and the food was really outstanding. And the jazz was really nice and not too loud.

Of course that last bit put us back on the train to New Jersey at about 1:30 or 2 am. We finally got back to Princeton around 3 am. But we did make it to church in the morning. I can always sleep later, right? I mean what's 17 hours among friends anyway?

A quick tour around Princeton and I was back on the train to Virginia, already planning to try to find some work somewhere closer to The City for next year so I can come back for a short time. I mean, I don't really want to live there, but I love New York.