New York was the only place in America I'd ever wanted to go to. This is a city that has captivated my imagination for many years and when I was given the opportunity to travel there in 2002, I jumped at the chance. This was only a short time after the Twin Towers had been unceremoniously brought down by a terrorist attack in 2001, and I was apprehensive about travelling, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Darrell had already decided he didn't want to go, the United States had never appealed to him, and he suggested I take a friend with me instead. I paid for a young girlfriend from Whiteparish, the local village, where we lived, to fly with me for the week-long holiday, the first I had been on, without my husband!
Arriving at JFK Airport, we were a World away from the UK. The security measures in place were exceptional, taking two hours to finally see us through customs and into the unseasonably hot spring weather outside. There was no limousine waiting for us at the terminal, just a yellow cab and a bumpy ride to our hotel overlooking Central Park. Sitting in the back, we were cramped and hot, separated from the driver by a perspex screen. The leg room was tight; I tried to get comfortable for the long ride through Queens and Brooklyn, desperate to arrive in Manhattan as soon as we could. As we approached the Queensboro Bridge over the East River, I was feeling irritated and anxious. There was no air-conditioning in the car and after fighting furiously with the electric window, no fresh air either. I was however amazed by this great bridge, so typically New York in style, towering above the car as we slowly drove through the pulsating traffic, gridlocked in every direction. This may well have been the journey from hell, but it is a memory that has stayed with me. Sometimes the most enduring recollections aren't always the best!
Our hotel on West 71st Street, small and rather intimate, comfortable and homely, was the ideal base for the next seven days. American breakfast was served each morning, which mainly consisted of muffins and pancakes, washed down with gallons of coffee; the best start for the day ahead. Walking through the streets of Manhattan, we explored Times Square, taking in the breathtaking views from The Empire State Building and ate lunch at Trump Tower, sat outside watching people pass by. I remember casually lighting a cigarette after a light lunch; the gasps from other customers was almost deafening. This was clearly a practice frowned upon and I quickly stubbed it out, looking highly embarrassed, as I sunk back into my dining chair. Eloise, my companion looked on, rather amused, giggling to herself - we are certainly not in Whiteparish any more. Check paid we left hurriedly, towards Madam Tussauds.
Central Park was an escape from the busy city outside and as the temperature soared, we spent far more time walking around this magnificent green space than anticipated. Sat on a bench, looking out towards cyclists, dog walkers, joggers, lunchtime book readers and children playing Frisbee, tennis and handball, I was reminded of my own childhood. Central Park brought people together, in a way a concrete city just can't; surrounded by buildings on all sides, this open landscape is the crowning glory of Manhattan. It was unusual and alien in every respect, but a special place, full of beauty and poignancy for New Yorkers and tourists alike.
Sheltering from the midday sun, collecting my thoughts, I wrote a few words on some paper, that I still have today - ' New York is everything I expected, but Central Park is more; the city dweller has finally turned into a country boy!' Of course, I love this great city, but I preferred the clean air, open fields and tree lined walk ways. As I wrestled with my conscience in the years ahead, sadly urban life won the day. If I could live my life again, this would be one road I would change!
I was sad to leave 'The Big Apple,' I enjoyed every aspect of my time there. From the corned beef and gravy at the Deli, the art deco architecture and twenty-four hour nightlife, I was in awe of it all. It isn't a place I particularly want to visit again however, content with my time spent there, but looking forward to the idyllic Wiltshire countryside and the place I called home. As our Lincoln town car arrived to take us to JFK (I had learned my lesson concerning New York cabs.) and I climbed into the back, sinking my feet into the plush red carpet, I suddenly felt tired and ready for home. This was an amazing place to visit, but it just wasn't a city to stay for long. New York was my first dip into America and likely to be my last. Since Donald Trump has become President, my views of Americans have become less than favourable. With so much more of the World to see, the United States is no longer my destination of choice. New Yorks enduring pull is also its inevitable downfall, there is only so much hustle and bustle one man can take!
Arriving at JFK Airport, we were a World away from the UK. The security measures in place were exceptional, taking two hours to finally see us through customs and into the unseasonably hot spring weather outside. There was no limousine waiting for us at the terminal, just a yellow cab and a bumpy ride to our hotel overlooking Central Park. Sitting in the back, we were cramped and hot, separated from the driver by a perspex screen. The leg room was tight; I tried to get comfortable for the long ride through Queens and Brooklyn, desperate to arrive in Manhattan as soon as we could. As we approached the Queensboro Bridge over the East River, I was feeling irritated and anxious. There was no air-conditioning in the car and after fighting furiously with the electric window, no fresh air either. I was however amazed by this great bridge, so typically New York in style, towering above the car as we slowly drove through the pulsating traffic, gridlocked in every direction. This may well have been the journey from hell, but it is a memory that has stayed with me. Sometimes the most enduring recollections aren't always the best!
Our hotel on West 71st Street, small and rather intimate, comfortable and homely, was the ideal base for the next seven days. American breakfast was served each morning, which mainly consisted of muffins and pancakes, washed down with gallons of coffee; the best start for the day ahead. Walking through the streets of Manhattan, we explored Times Square, taking in the breathtaking views from The Empire State Building and ate lunch at Trump Tower, sat outside watching people pass by. I remember casually lighting a cigarette after a light lunch; the gasps from other customers was almost deafening. This was clearly a practice frowned upon and I quickly stubbed it out, looking highly embarrassed, as I sunk back into my dining chair. Eloise, my companion looked on, rather amused, giggling to herself - we are certainly not in Whiteparish any more. Check paid we left hurriedly, towards Madam Tussauds.
Central Park was an escape from the busy city outside and as the temperature soared, we spent far more time walking around this magnificent green space than anticipated. Sat on a bench, looking out towards cyclists, dog walkers, joggers, lunchtime book readers and children playing Frisbee, tennis and handball, I was reminded of my own childhood. Central Park brought people together, in a way a concrete city just can't; surrounded by buildings on all sides, this open landscape is the crowning glory of Manhattan. It was unusual and alien in every respect, but a special place, full of beauty and poignancy for New Yorkers and tourists alike.
Sheltering from the midday sun, collecting my thoughts, I wrote a few words on some paper, that I still have today - ' New York is everything I expected, but Central Park is more; the city dweller has finally turned into a country boy!' Of course, I love this great city, but I preferred the clean air, open fields and tree lined walk ways. As I wrestled with my conscience in the years ahead, sadly urban life won the day. If I could live my life again, this would be one road I would change!
I was sad to leave 'The Big Apple,' I enjoyed every aspect of my time there. From the corned beef and gravy at the Deli, the art deco architecture and twenty-four hour nightlife, I was in awe of it all. It isn't a place I particularly want to visit again however, content with my time spent there, but looking forward to the idyllic Wiltshire countryside and the place I called home. As our Lincoln town car arrived to take us to JFK (I had learned my lesson concerning New York cabs.) and I climbed into the back, sinking my feet into the plush red carpet, I suddenly felt tired and ready for home. This was an amazing place to visit, but it just wasn't a city to stay for long. New York was my first dip into America and likely to be my last. Since Donald Trump has become President, my views of Americans have become less than favourable. With so much more of the World to see, the United States is no longer my destination of choice. New Yorks enduring pull is also its inevitable downfall, there is only so much hustle and bustle one man can take!
