Bedazzled in the Big Apple

Boarding the train at Hicksville Station, we rumbled along to Penn Station. Bored commuters uncrumpled newspapers and tapped on Ipads, adjusted their glasses and rummaged around in their laptop cases. As we rattled over the tracks, the Manhattan skyline came into view, even on a sober grey day, we were all popping with excitement.We were clutching a map, drawn with Suzala style with arrows and odd shaped boxes depicting the must-sees on the Manhattan skyline. Central Park was a manic blob and the Empire State a tiny deranged polygon.


Whether real or imagined, Manhattan is tall, noisy and FABULOUS!

Tourists clamour for their postcard shots as harassed office workers negotiate paths around them (well ... ahem ... us). Tourists are easy to spot, walking in front of cabs and bikes as they take in the wonder of the tallness ... Chrysler Building ... Flatiron ... Empire State ... all big tall buildings. Sometimes, we had time to glimpse a gargoyle or some other delightful art deco artifice. But at full throttle, it was a little difficult to take in the bigness, the tallness, the fabulousness that is New York in a mere couple of days.

Reminders of the parts of the city that had fallen, are scattered throughout the city. Tiny plaques and memorials, for souls that were lost.  We were ill-prepared for the massive, sorrowful site that was where the buildings had actually fallen.The sense of loss is still palpable, but there was also a feeling of hope.

So we hot-dogged ... and walked ... and looked up ... and walked.

Eyes in the top of our head would have been invaluable. For starters, if we had invisible eyes in our scalps, we would not have to fend off the glare of real New Yorkers having to go about their day-to-day business, with huffs and puffs as we loitered or lingered in irritating spots, taking in all that was Manhattan while all the while getting under the feet of real-lifer New Yorkers. They were oblivious to our excitement and our very big adventure.It may have been because we were three out of thousands having their great big adventure in the Christmas city.

It's fair to say that we can't add to the many tombes and nifty guides which cram the internet and bookshop shelves. And we had one or two ourselves weighing down our bags.

However, one of the treats ... were the stuffed animals at the American Museum of Natural History. After walking through Central Park, and walking more big blocks with weary feet, we found ourselves in front of animals which had wandered cheerfully on faraway plains, over a century ago. Little did they know, that their eternal dignity was soon to be  at the mercy of a taxidermist who might be having a bad hair day. A perpetually perplexed leopard, and an purgatorially pointing jackal are testament to this. The Victorian cases which now entomb these once proud beasts, are really quite a treat.

My favourite resident at the museum, is a grinning turtle. I don't even think many New Yorkers could outshine this reptilian welcome.

And as we plodded around the city, bedazzled ... but alas, no smile was more dazzling than our favourite museum friend.

Blingle bells

New York suburbia is something to behold. Big Christmas house bling everywhere. Twinkling and sparkling, and most importantly, out doing the neighbours.Christmas is my favourite time of year, and to be in the Big Apple, in the run up to Christmas day is akin to be a fairy on top of the tree.


After a little while, we arrived in Plainview (I know the address by heart now), there was Suzala! The last time I clapped eyes on her in the real flesh, opposed Skype flesh, was in about 1994 ... last century! It was over 20 years since we'd played snow angels in Queens and been buffeted by Buster on the way to the bathroom. It could've been yesterday!

It's hard to explain the real joy, when you reunite with a good, good friend after too long and a lot of world in between. What to compare it to? I don't think I'll try to attempt a cheesy analogy ... no ... no ... no ... I will. It's the cheese on the pizza of life ... and I'm talking pizza supreme.

And here we were, the American family, and the New Zealand family ... and Smudge the cat. Hard to believe we were standing in the living room, with squirrels in the backyard, in our winter woolies - a warm sun left in another hemisphere. Suffice to say, lots of talking (three days solid), lots of hugging, and laughter.

Arriving on December 10, the city was gearing up for Christmas. On the first day, after a slumbersome morning, we found ourselves in a massive discount mall. An ice-skating rink, a perfectly pointy Christmas tree and toy soldiers fit for a giant's toybox. The only thing missing was shoppers ... we were it. There were puddles, and robotic albeit delightful good manners.

Our hostess with the mostess ferried us around the shops -we were swallowed by Nike and burped out into Reebok. As the shopping bags filled ... our eyes tired ... boy these folk do good Christmas!

Tomorrow,  our adventure was to take us into postcard New York, well Manhattan, where you need eyeballs on the top of your head. But there was a bit of sleep before that and some French toast, and some donuts ... and then a bit of sleep. 

Little bite of the Big Apple

 So we were finally on the plane ... Delta ... nicely dressed staff with snacks less so.

Squeezing into our seats - all next to each other, all on the same plane! What a treat! Only a few hours before we'd been booked on different flights. Although dignity was squashed into the overhead, thanks to zealous Delta security staff, all was well in the world. The sky was dark, the stars were sparkly and we were practically in New York!

Excitement was pounding away as we nipped through the night sky, faster than Santa. When the pilot announced we were approaching landing, I expected everyone to spring into song ... New York, New York ... the obvious choice but anything from a Broadway show would've been accepted with grace. Looking around, the faces were bored and just wanting the trip be over. There were yawns and stretches, putting away of books and snapping laptops shut. Disappointment sat squarely on my face, how could anybody not be excited?

I suspect it being about 4 in the morning may have crushed some of the excitement. Party poopers!

So we struggled down the aisle with our pillows and coats, out of the plane, to the a fantastic array of accents and polite-tities. I could've done without the "Mam" but the "thank yous" all hit the right spot.

Dragging ourselves out of the airport, the fresh, cool air hit us like a refrigerated pillow. The yellow taxis ... the accents ... the lateness, or more to the point early-ness ... but then out of the belly of a people mover ... Rick! We couldn't believe our luck ... Rick had staggered out of his lovely warm home, on a drizzly, cool night and come to JFK to pick us up.

Soon we were bundled into the car, and hurtling down an empty highway to the bosum of his sleepy family.


And as Hula Girl nodded and strummed on the dash, we were in wonder as we bumped along through the rainy night towards Long Island.

Our eyes widened at each signpost, each piece of the jigsaw that told us we were in New York. Long Island ... Brooklyn ... Queens ... Bronx ...

In a car, in New York ... the boys and me ... zipping along to a sleepy family in New York ... pinch ... pinch ... pinch!