Just to pass the time (goodbye New York)

Hello dear patient reader, this post is a mixture of our last few days in the Big Apple and I am writing the final words in the British Airways lounge at JFK.  This is where the genuine travellers rest before their flights, so my observations of this world are as real and genuine as any observation made by the myopic, inward looking, self-fascinated Jane Austen.  Had she access to today's technology, she would have been the selfie queen of England in her time and such a feminist too, with quotes like: A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.  She is certainly my pin-up girl, get me a beer and a cigar please Jane?  I'll be in the drawing room selecting your husband from the latest edition of Eligible Bachelor.  How she would have starred in the Bachelorette!

Now to the important Austen-like commentary gentle reader.  The British Airways lounge pales into insignificance in comparison with the Qantas Lounge.  Empty wine bottles are not replaced, there is no champagne, the food selection is just not right.  Sigh.  The wifi is not to be believed.  You need a password!  And then it drops out every five minutes.  Really!  I shall speak to Mr D'Arcy at the recpetion desk about my concerns.

Anyway ... 

Our penultimate night in NYC was our last opportunity to have a sleep-in and was much like the earlier ones: disrupted sleep.  There were the usual revellers practising for America's Got No Talent and the car horns, accompanied early this morning by the lights of an ambulance that was outside our window for 20 minutes - not good for someone, I hope they are OK.  Concluding with the garbage truck just before daylight.  Ahhh, the sights and sounds of New York, the city that never sleeps and tries its best to ensure that you don't either.

Who is that in the yellow and red?

The New York Public Library
We've walked past the library several times over the last few weeks, it is a most imposing building with its Romanesque columns and twin lions guarding the entrance.  The interior is no less impressive, white marble everywhere and twin stair cases leading off either end of the entrance hall. We went there on a recommendation to see some historic literary exhibits - thanks Kath, (which we did manage to see through glass doors) but the building itself and what it contains were hidden gems.

Not a great deal of hype about this landmark in Lonely Planet but the library is a very impressive place with ornate interior decoration, including both large scale murals and intricate ceiling and wall carvings in walnut.  It has a portraiture collection of NYC historic notables, and amazing rooms with huge desks at which an eclectic mix of New Yorkers were seated busily researching anything from historic maps to past editions of Readers' Digest to Mary Shelley original manuscripts.  None of the collection is for borrowing but the library houses an impressive array of historic and literary artefactual giants, undoubtedly the most important being the toys that inspired the Milne writings about Winnie the Pooh (now clearly that was Jayne's perspective, I'm hanging with the Gothic stuff and early manuscripts of Frankenstein).  Winnie and friends (minus Roo who was lost in an orchard on a trip to the country) are all usually on public display in the children's nook of the library.  Sadly for us, Pooh and the tribe are off being cleaned and receiving medical treatment as aging toys require (the librarian reminded us that Pooh is 94 years old).  They will be back at the library in the new year. Other artefacts include Charles Dickens' writing desk and his letter opener, the handle of which disturbingly was fashioned from the taxidermied paw of his deceased pet cat??  Couldn't think of a better use for a cat paw except maybe a back scratcher (sorry Min).

The ceiling in the map room

Anyway, we did a free self-guided tour of the 3 floors of the library and found it and its gift shop a great way to spend a morning in New York.  It was a busy working library in a most impressive building with its own history, including the 2 huge lion marble sculptures, named Patience and Fortitude,  apparently the quintessential qualities of all New Yorkers, guarding the entrance.

The Map Room

A random bubbler

Patience or Fortitude - I couldn't tell them apart

The Chrylser Building
Not much to say here, the building itself is another magnificent piece of art deco but will forever be overshadowed by the Empire State Building.  It's a bit like being Melbourne when there is Sydney. There are no photos of the interior because it was dimly lit to accentuate the gold and marble.  It has the most awesome new-age gargoyles made of chrome, looking down on the street.  During construction the golden spire was kept a secret and was built and moved into place within the building itself and then levered up through the incomplete building to crown the work of the architects, engineers and builders.  Truly inspired.

I remember, back in the day (1979 I think) watching Centrepoint Tower in Sydney going up, where the habitable section was moved up the centre post.  It was pretty spectacular, I can only image how fantastic it would have been to see that magnificent golden spire rising up through the centre of the building.  So New York.

I love a good gargolye.

Shopping
Well, we had time to kill prior to our dinner engagement, so we went in search of a baseball cap for me.  Yes, dear reader, you will be surprised by this, knowing what a fan I am of American cultural imperialism and sport in general (rugby and cricket excepted), but you see, I was assailed while walking down the street.  On the way to the Chrysler Building I was the victim of an errant pigeon. A cap would have protected me from such a vile attack; it rivals the description of the 'attack' of the gypsies in Pride and Prejudice...  And so the search began.

Firstly to Moddell's, the big supporter store.  They didn't have a Clay Matthews jersey when we wanted one, nor did they have a Mets cap that fitted me, or the really tall dude who helped us get the caps down.  He, too, was searching for a Mets cap in the same size.  We must have looked through 50 caps.  No dice.

We adjourned the search to Lids.  More accurately, we adjourned to search for Lids.  I knew it was in an arcade that went underground to the subway, but that was about it.  After a number of failed attempts (we found subway stations that were, well, subway stations), we finally found Manhattan Mall after Jayne consulted her trusty map.  And therein lay the mythical Lids, and, they had a cap in my size.  Oh frabjous day, calloo callay ... I win, no more pigeon pathogen on my head.  They say it is lucky if a bird shits on you ... who is 'they' and have 'they' ever been shat upon?  I think  not.

Back into the bowels of Manhattan (did you see what I did there? Pigeon poo, bowels?  Never mind) and onto the train and home.  Rest time before our night out.

The Water Club
As related yesterday, The Water Club does not have a dress code.  Upon reflection this is quite alarming.  What should one do if one happens upon someone dressed inappropriately?  Perhaps wearing a hoodie?  Or exercise clothing?  Thankfully that didn't eventuate my tolerant reader.  The young couple who seated themsleves next to us at the bar (hoodie not on his head, thankfully) lasted only as long as a cursory reading of the drinks list and then departed.  Perhaps the lack of thick shake deterred them.  Who knows?  Or maybe it was the fireplace.  I must report that I was not expecting a fireplace and was certainly not expecting a fire, but both were there.  It was like a homecoming, I was tempted to sit in the corner and tat (if you were born pre 1850 I suggest google for a definition).  But, champagne at the bar beckoned.

Cheekily, I had requested a river-window table when I booked and that is exactly what we received. The view across to Brooklyn was beautiful in the setting sun.  It is still a working river, unlike Sydney where the boat traffic is pleasure craft or ferries.  The East River is alive with barges and cruise vessels and the current moves fast,  just like the foot traffic in Manhattan.

From the restaurant

The was food wonderful, from the selection of breads through to the appetiser (entreé) and entreé (main course). The wine list was daunting, as it has been in many places because we are unfamiliar with the wineries and the list is far more international than you would see in Autsralia (unless you were at Rockpool and they are just pretentious).  The service was not quite over the top, but bordering on it, but, that is to be expected in restaurants at this level.  Given a comparison of the Zagat rating to the Good Food Guide, it was a two-hatted restaurant in our terms.

After dinner, it was across the FDR Drive and a pleasant walk home.  Scary place New York, we have walked everywhere or caught the subway, or a combination of both, everywhere we have been whatever time of the day or night.  We have done everything we set out to do, but I'd come back and spend more time focused on the music scene, on Broadway and in the burbs.


Reflections on New York:
The sounds of New York will forever be car horns and sirens.
The smell of New York will be, ahhh, cigars (no I'm still not over it after 10 years).
The sights of New York: the Empire State seemingly from every vantage point in the city, way too many bad hair pieces.
The food of New York - pizza of course, by the slice.
The cuisine of New York - Italian. You needed to ask?

Australia has a lot to learn in terms of making its major attractions tourist friendly, in fact, we have a lot to learn in identifying these attractions too.  Or maybe I'm just not up to the tourism in my own town.  Is there an audio guide for The Rocks or Mitchell Library?  Do we have food and history tours of China Town - I know we have walking tours of The Rocks - but we have so many other places in the inner city that are worthy of interest.

And now
And now we sit in the lounge waiting for the time to come for us to board our plane.  We spent this morning packing and wandering around the river walk - just to pass the time, unlike Carole King, we couldn't spend it in bed.  We had breakfast (for the second time in three weeks), at Cafe Mogador.  It is brunch day, so they weren't keen on our idea of breakfast -  a bit too minimalist for New York.  We explained how we would like our coffee ... no problem, the server said.  What arrived was two cups of double espresso and a jug of hot water.  We had the ingredients, not quite where they were supposed to be.  Close, but no.