Recollections of NEW YORK (by Craig)
New York, New York, its my kinda town - meaning that I am happy where ever I can satiate my appetite for the new, bizarre and tasty (and yes, this is possible in Darwin).
For starters, an acknowledgement. We were put up by 3 very gracious hosts. Knowing people, especially ones with knowledge of NYC and its workings (and free passes to the exhorbitantly expensive Museum of Modern Art) was handy. Muchos Gracias folks.
NYC was brimming with tourists from the Mid West and parts similar, possibly due to the holiday period and possibly due to the balmy mid single digit weather. However, this multitude of muppets were intent on visiting every tourist icon available in their alloted days. Which meant there were queues everywhere. Queues to buy stuff as part of the post Christmas sales (we scored an extra 11% discount for ´not being from roun´here), to go ice skating (and listen to dodgy 80´s classics) in Central Park, to visit the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty, and for the opportunity to queue. It was enough to give a fellow the tom tits.
One other activity requiring queuing was a visit to the few in number toilets available to the public randomly scattered across NYC where enterprising coffee houses and similar shops offered the opportunity. NYC does not do public convenience. One either bursts or takes a slash in the street or stays at home. A temporary facility in Times Square had a queue what seeméd a mile long.
The merchants of Broadway took advantage of increased demand (as is their right as rational economic actors) to increase the prices charged these sorry punters from Ballbag, Idaho for the apparent privalege to attend a rather sad lot of shows. I can see Phantom of the Opera at the Darwin Entertainment Centre, I want originality and fireworks and elephants from a Broadway show. This was not available for money or for love. So, after tapping all the contacts available to attempt to even get a ticket, Broadway was dismissed as a bit of a Yawn. I think we went to Spankys instead....
A final note on queues. The queue for the Empire State Building resulting in us visiting the ´Top of the Rock´. No more needs to be said really.
As I said, one cannot but love a place where all carnal appetites may be satiated to the utmost. For example, in the space of a couple of hours I scarfed a very good empanada (local cuisine of South America), a roast pork roll (available from a Chinatown near you) and a hot dog (tiny little things only amounting to a bite or two, but which, in addition to bagels and pretzels are a staple of NYC). On other occasions I also ate chinese from a box. Im secretly hoping that a bit of trekking in the Andes will restrain my waistline.
And at last, on the subject of food, I return to Spanky´s. This establishment could be deemed a somewhat naff and trite tourist oriented bbq joint. However, I contend that it is a hallowed temple to the consumption of hog flesh and quaffing of beer from impressively generous mugs. BBQ for denizens of the USA differs from the recognised form in Australia. Rather than a couple of snags, prawns and perhaps a chop all washed down with XXXX, BBQ involves taking great lumps of underappreciated lumps of hog and cow flesh (eg ribs and brisket etc), immersing it in a secret special sauce concocted by someones sainted mama, and then finally, stuffing said lumps into ones face until it bursts or the beer runs out your nose. It is a Southern thing apparently. Obviously, I loved it. I have refused to properly air my jacket, so I am carrying around the last lingering whiff of that fantastic smoky bbq stench. The only way the place could have been better is if the waitresses were dressed in bikinis (I would have settled for good looking even).
Perhaps the bbq thing is a signal of things in NYC. I am still marvelling that beven culture is alive and prospering outside those well known bastions as Palmerston, Logan and Western Sydney. It seems some shyster has convinced folk in NYC that wearing ugg boots is not only acceptable in public, but the height of fashion conciousness. These sad fashionistas may think they are the centre of existence, but I beg to differ.
NYE in NYC was also pretty damn tops. But if you were any sort of friend you would have already seen the pictures. I will, however, ask you all to think twice if someone asks if you want a champange and malibu shot.
We are in Lima at present. It is a loud, smoggy, smelly, acrid city. Although access to millions of poverty stricken punters willing to do anything to earn a quid means the streets could be considered almost sparkling. Anyway, it is a bit rubbish, so we are off into the Andes tomorrow.
More to follow....
For starters, an acknowledgement. We were put up by 3 very gracious hosts. Knowing people, especially ones with knowledge of NYC and its workings (and free passes to the exhorbitantly expensive Museum of Modern Art) was handy. Muchos Gracias folks.
NYC was brimming with tourists from the Mid West and parts similar, possibly due to the holiday period and possibly due to the balmy mid single digit weather. However, this multitude of muppets were intent on visiting every tourist icon available in their alloted days. Which meant there were queues everywhere. Queues to buy stuff as part of the post Christmas sales (we scored an extra 11% discount for ´not being from roun´here), to go ice skating (and listen to dodgy 80´s classics) in Central Park, to visit the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty, and for the opportunity to queue. It was enough to give a fellow the tom tits.
One other activity requiring queuing was a visit to the few in number toilets available to the public randomly scattered across NYC where enterprising coffee houses and similar shops offered the opportunity. NYC does not do public convenience. One either bursts or takes a slash in the street or stays at home. A temporary facility in Times Square had a queue what seeméd a mile long.
The merchants of Broadway took advantage of increased demand (as is their right as rational economic actors) to increase the prices charged these sorry punters from Ballbag, Idaho for the apparent privalege to attend a rather sad lot of shows. I can see Phantom of the Opera at the Darwin Entertainment Centre, I want originality and fireworks and elephants from a Broadway show. This was not available for money or for love. So, after tapping all the contacts available to attempt to even get a ticket, Broadway was dismissed as a bit of a Yawn. I think we went to Spankys instead....
A final note on queues. The queue for the Empire State Building resulting in us visiting the ´Top of the Rock´. No more needs to be said really.
As I said, one cannot but love a place where all carnal appetites may be satiated to the utmost. For example, in the space of a couple of hours I scarfed a very good empanada (local cuisine of South America), a roast pork roll (available from a Chinatown near you) and a hot dog (tiny little things only amounting to a bite or two, but which, in addition to bagels and pretzels are a staple of NYC). On other occasions I also ate chinese from a box. Im secretly hoping that a bit of trekking in the Andes will restrain my waistline.
And at last, on the subject of food, I return to Spanky´s. This establishment could be deemed a somewhat naff and trite tourist oriented bbq joint. However, I contend that it is a hallowed temple to the consumption of hog flesh and quaffing of beer from impressively generous mugs. BBQ for denizens of the USA differs from the recognised form in Australia. Rather than a couple of snags, prawns and perhaps a chop all washed down with XXXX, BBQ involves taking great lumps of underappreciated lumps of hog and cow flesh (eg ribs and brisket etc), immersing it in a secret special sauce concocted by someones sainted mama, and then finally, stuffing said lumps into ones face until it bursts or the beer runs out your nose. It is a Southern thing apparently. Obviously, I loved it. I have refused to properly air my jacket, so I am carrying around the last lingering whiff of that fantastic smoky bbq stench. The only way the place could have been better is if the waitresses were dressed in bikinis (I would have settled for good looking even).
Perhaps the bbq thing is a signal of things in NYC. I am still marvelling that beven culture is alive and prospering outside those well known bastions as Palmerston, Logan and Western Sydney. It seems some shyster has convinced folk in NYC that wearing ugg boots is not only acceptable in public, but the height of fashion conciousness. These sad fashionistas may think they are the centre of existence, but I beg to differ.
NYE in NYC was also pretty damn tops. But if you were any sort of friend you would have already seen the pictures. I will, however, ask you all to think twice if someone asks if you want a champange and malibu shot.
We are in Lima at present. It is a loud, smoggy, smelly, acrid city. Although access to millions of poverty stricken punters willing to do anything to earn a quid means the streets could be considered almost sparkling. Anyway, it is a bit rubbish, so we are off into the Andes tomorrow.
More to follow....
posted by Flossie | 8:00 AM
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