Travelogue, part the first, a continuing series in the adventures of
nobody, going nowhere, doing nothing.
The first leg of the trip was Cincinati, OH (CVG) via red-eye from the
southwest home base. Leave the airport at 11:30 pm Pacific and arrive
in Kentuky 6 am Eastern. Kentucky? Yes, I was confused. Cincinati
airport is actually located about two miles inside Kentucky. Those of
us who are geographically challenged could get confused. One side
note, I had booked a flight to Dayton, about 80 miles north because the
fare was basically half the price. I made sure it had a layover in
CVG, and as soon as I landed, I hopped off the plane and pretended I
got lost and couldn't make my flight to Dayton. I'm sure this is a
well-known secret, but it does give one a giddy breaking-the-law pirate
sort of feeling. Aye, maytie. Arrrrgh.
My host drove us around to various sites; there was one particular
bridge town on the Kentucky side as you go north to Cincinatti, with
very quaint row-houses and a huge cathedral. It was possitively
brilliant, and certainly not something I would associate with my view
of hick stupid, inbred Kentuckians. I was told that a few miles south
of CVG we could indeed view some of these proud American specimens with
rifles and straw hats, sitting on stooped porches drinking moonshine
and hooch (are they two separate things?) I declined politely.
Cincinatti is no Beverly Hills (or, insert other wealthy neighborhood),
either, though. We stopped at a German restaurant on the Kentucky side
near the Aquarium for lunch. It was "Hofbrauhaus" or some such
germanic thing. Locals probably know it by the description: Live
ooompah band during lunch (this was Friday), long wooden tables with
graffitied tops, and some very good potato mashed into a ball. I
ordered the club something half sandwich. It wasn't particularly
authentic German, but it was good, and so was the afore-mentioned
potato ball mash.
For some reason, the location reminded me keenly of a trip I took to
Philadelphia, right near the river with an Aquarium (am I remembering
this right?), with some upscale stores and mall. something about it
caused a brain short to Philly, anyway... Mmmmm, Pat's cheesesteak. I
ate half and took the other half with me through the airport. 8 hours
later, I ate it at home, cold, and still couldn't believe how
incredible it tasted.
Back to Cincinatti, I mean, Kentucky, where I was catching my flight to
Newark, NJ. I had been up by this point, from 6 am pacific the
previous morning and would land in NJ two days later at 11 pm eastern.
Met up with xxxxxxx at the P4 station, riding the "air train". "Air
train" has to be the most stupid marketing/pr crap I've heard in quite
a while. "Air train," indeed. I had rented a car because I was
totally unfamiliar with the area. The destination was the Hyatt in
Jersey City. After taking the New Jersey Turnpike the wrong way and
doubling back. We were supposed to go to exit 14c, but somehow the
first exit North from Newark Liberty was 15E. Somehow I was supposed
to know to go south which would take me west, and then north, or
something. Fortunately, I was able to navigate the NJTP
none-too-shabbily and paid various tolls, correctly reading the toll
tickets and handing exact change like a good city person.
Let me describe the toll takers without one single variation: teenage
to early 20's black females ranging in weight from 200 to 300 pounds,
speaking loudly and continuously into a cell phone while counting
change, yelling at traffic and billing customers. Finally in Jersey
City, dumped off unceremoniously into exit 14C, I was almost forced
into the Holland tunnel. Fortunately, I turned into a gas station at
the last minute and asked directions. "Where is Christopher Columbus
drive," I asked about four people. Nobody spoke english. I guess New
Jersey and its brother New York are indeed foreign countries. Finally,
I was able to hear a lively discussion of my request going on between
four gas station attendants in Spanish. I am fluent in Spanish, but
just listened. Feeling satisfied that I understood their directions, I
continued to the right down some one way alley/street, looking for the
elusive Marlin Dr.
Suffice it to say that Jersey City is a shitty city in a shitty .ing
state. Driving through narrow alleys/streets, with bums whinos and
well dressed loiterers, it was quite surreal and very dangerous
feeling. They can't sense fear right? and they won't figure out a way
to open the door will they? As a side note, during the day everything
is fine. I have over 30 years experience dealing with vagrants, whinos
and homeless people. New York and New Jersey are actually cleaned up a
great deal from what the popular misconceptions are.
Finally, after a lot more trial and error and going back and forth up
and down one way streets, finally found the hotel and drove in. When
presented with the option for Valet or self park, I of course opted for
the miserly self park. I was directed "two blocks" that-a-way and $15
per night. How much was valet? $30 per night, but you can take your
car in and out as much as you like. What a bargain. I was stunned,
but the valet seemed more stunned at my being stunned. Some things
just take a lot to get used to. I realised that a car was not only
completely unnecessary, but a huge expense and waste. Parking is
impossible on both sides of the Hudson, and excellent options exist for
knowledgeable travellers.
We actually walked three or four blocks from the hotel around midnight
(eastern time, for us PDTers we were ready to go), looking for
something to eat. We found a cuban dive bar with neon and blaring
music that was open. It was the Hard Grove Cafe, and the food was
excellent and authentic. In fact, so authentic that xxxxx couldn't eat
anything. I had the pollo con arroz and a cafe con leche. It was very
satisfying and fun to watch the pationate drama taking place at some of
the tables. We walked back to the hotel and got some much needed
sleep.
The Hyatt is litterally across the street from the Path rail station in
Jersey City. It really doesn't get any better than this. Walk a few
steps, down an excalator and less than five minutes later, you can come
out in Manhatten in the World Trade Center station. We were taken
aback and surprised when we came out of the tunnel directly into the
empty basin where the Twin Towers once stood. I know the popular
attraction for tourists is to view the hole from above and behind the
fences on the street, but if you really want to see and experience it
properly, then just take the Path from Exchange place to WTC station.
For $2, this was one of the best experiences we had.
That first day, we somehow staggered north to 12th avenue (which is
quite a huge distance), walking through several neighborhoods. We
walked north on Broadway for a while, cut east across canal, which was
like a huge street market, north on 5th avenue, reveling in the calm,
shady tree-lined lanes and the contrast with the streets we had just
gotten off, and through Washington park. I have a photogenic [sic]
memory and I was constantly noting locations by their use in TV or
film: "Oh, this is where they did xyz on The Apprentice", "Ah, Al
Pacino did his scene here with so-and-so in such-and-such." It was
great fun.
The reason we were going to 12th avenue was to visit xxxxx's cousin
(herein after referred to as Cuz). Turns out, we needed to go to
"little 12th" not, 12th. So we needed to go even farther north into
the "meat packing" district. I had seen some documentaries on our
satellite TV regarding "Jane's New York" where she described the meat
packing district and the somewhat forgotten and abandoned "Highline".
We did indeed see parts of the Highline, an elevated, rusting,
weed-overgrown former railway. We even ate at a Thai restaurant that
was opposite the Highline, called, Highline. Seriously, the Thai
restaurant is called Highline. The food was decent, a little spicy
(which is good), but not particularly authentic. Thai food places try
to be too hip, chic, modern, and make the Thai food into some kind of
gourmet or fancy stuff. I care not for this. Just give me good,
meaningful food.
Later, Cuz took us to a club, which was a non-descript building where
he presented his card, signed in, and we took an elevator to the roof.
We came out onto the roof with a pool and various people laying in the
sun in bikinis. Quite a different sort of setting, but very very cool.
We had drinks and looked at the other buildings. Life from above is
really nice, but I'm sure it's hugely expensive. Cuz is either
well-connected (a requirement in the city, it seems like) or rich,
probably both. The club also has several floors for a bar and cigar
place, a media and entertainment room, and other fun. I'm sure there
are thousands of little gems like this hidden everywhere in the city.
Based on Cuz's advice, we decided to see Times Square after it got
dark, so we took the subway north (we didn't realise how huge the city
was) from 14th to 42nd. We saw Times square, which as you know, is not
a square at all but a triangle. It wasn't dark yet, so we wandered
somewhat west to take in Rockefeller square (much smaller than I
imagined on TV) and the Today show alley. We stopped in at a high-end
Japanese sweets/gift shop just like you might see in Tokyo. It was
Minamoto Kitchoan, and we purchased some idividual servings of sweets
and cakes as if we were going to give them to important business
clients. They were each dutifully wrapped and sealed in gift packs.
xxxx bowed to the Japanese sales woman and stumbled through a "domo
arigatogozaimasu", looking at me to coach her for each syllable. We
immediately ripped open the packing outside the store and feasted on
each as we walked.
We continued southward to Grand Central station and ate at a restaurant
that was highly recommended in a magazine I had read as one of the top
10 seafood restaurants in America. It was the Grand Central Oyster Bar
inside Grand Central Station. I ordered the Bluepoint oysters (since
that was the only ones I recognised) and a dozen others to sample which
the waiter recommended based on my preference for "briny". The
Bluepoints were so good, I ordered 8 more. The rest were OK, not that
great. Overall, the whole experience of eating around 16 fresh, great
oysters was incredible. We ordered 20 total, xxxx could only handle
one of each type. They were better than the ones from New Orleans, but
that could just be a trick of memory.
We then walked BACK to Times Square and took in the night sights.
Other than being more crowded, I wasn't too impressed the second time.
Who cares how bright the lights are; I want to see John Stossel. We
stepped into the Virgin Megastore, looking for a restroom.
Unfortunately, the restrooms were closed so we walked over to the
McDonald's. We waited in a line for at least half an hour and finally
were able to relieve ourselves.
As you can imagine, we were completely wiped out from walking so far
(we might have actually walked close to 10 miles or more), so we took
the 42nd street subway back to the WTC and Path back to the hotel. We
sat and watched the view from the hotel restaurant and bar (called Vu,
appropriately). We took some deserts and watched the Hudson roll by
while Manhatten filled the bay windows from the far right of our vision
to the far left.
The next day, we went back into the WTC station and decided to see
Chinatown. We headed east but didn't veer north far enough so we
eventually ended up on the other side of the island at the southside
seaport. (An episode of The Apprentice was filmed here, I believe it
was the lemonade challenge :) Cuz called us and said to meet him for
breakfast at Houston (pronounced how-sten, not hew-sten which caused a
lot of map confusion) and Broadway (pronounced bro-d-way). No problem,
a three minute, $5 cab ride should get us there. We hopped in a taxi
and he took us the scenic route, along the water's edge on a really
neat expressway. We took some pictures from the taxi of the bridges on
the east coast of Manhatten.
Eleven dollars and 15 minutes later, we arrived. I looked at the map
and was outraged. xxxxx whispered to me not to do anything and paid
and tipped the driver. I was furious but was able to calm myself to
ask nicely why he took the long way 'round. "To avoid traffic," he
stated non-chalantly. "At 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning," I
exclaimed, almost shrilly. The cab driver just shrugged. Xxxxx
dragged me out of the cab.
We met Cuz at the corner and he took us to a nice cuban
hole-in-the-wall called Cafe Colonial. Excellent food (even though we
had american staples like eggs florentine and omellettes). Of
particular note are the cheese breads which are not quite bread but
more like biscuits. And, when you pull the biscuit apart, it is pure
stringy cheesey goodness that never ends. I don't know how they merged
bread and cheese so well, but it works magic on your tastebuds.
Later, took the subway south to see Wall St. Having bought and sold
stocks for close to 15 years, I was giddy at seeing the landmarks that
I only knew from CNBC and the like. One thing about the financial
district is that the streets are incredibly small and the buildings
incredibly tall. The canyon effect is quite pronounced here. It was
very quiet and still on Sunday morning (of course), but none-the-less,
there were a lot of fellow tourists milling about and taking pictures.
We tried to get next to the bull icon but security measures are quite
tight and no one is allowed near the bull.
We proceeded a little further south and east to Battery park. There
were some lunatics performing some interpretive dances in the park. It
was very hot by now, but they were dancing and there was a great crowd
of spectators watching. I noticed two ladies sitting on a bench
watching the dancing raptly who were wiping tears from their eyes and
clapping wildly at the finish of one of the numbers. I don't get it,
but then, I've never understood dance, interpretive or otherwise.
The line for the Statue of Liberty ferry was too long, and I didn't
want to go anyway. I don't think they allow you to climb inside the
statue any more, so I wasn't going to hang out on an island for 20
minutes after waiting in line for 2 hours to buy a ticket and wait for
a ferry. Instead, we took the subway north and made our way to the
empire state building. The line wasn't too terrible; it took about 45
minutes to finally get to the top. The view is stunning. And the wind
is not bad and I didn't have any sense of veritgo or quesiness at all.
It was quite pleasant. Highly recommended.
We went back down and took a cab to chinatown (our original
destination). But this time, I directed the cabbie: Take Broadway all
the way down, turn left on Canal. For $5.15, we arrived quickly. xxxx
wanted to purchase a "Louie Vitton" purse for only $35. This purse is
advertised to potential buyers by a chinese person who hands you a
colour flyer showing several models. Nothing illegal or shady about
that. I reminded xxxxx that I wanted a purse too, but if I was going
to get a fake purse, I wasn't going to pay premium prices for them. We
offered $25, but couldn't get the vendors to go below $30 or so. Too
bad. Xxxx was upset, but we didn't really want one anyway.
We continued shopping for odd knicknacks, a couple of those cute tiny
porcelain cats and some scarves. None of the jewelry, because it just
didn't look appealing and the prices weren't screaming bargains. We
stopped at a Vietnamese restaurant (?) and took some authentic soups.
I took the Vietnamese iced coffee with condensed milk, a treasure I
stopped taking some 10 years or more ago when I had stopped drinking
coffee. Ahh, memories of chugging down this thick yellow brown sludge.
The service was horrible. Our food arrived separately, my noodles and
soup arrived long after the plate of barbeque pork sat on a plate in
front of me, and our drinks never arrived until after we reminded
several waiters several times what we had ordered. We had to share our
table with two other women; one was a britisher like me (or some other
accent, not sure) the other was a Vietnamese or Korean woman who spoke
perfect unaccented american. There was a fly in the britisher's
coffee, and she complained. I noted that I had ordered flies with my
coffee but hadn't received it, an allusion to the poor service.
Everyone laughed but I was serious. I actually would have been willing
to pull the fly out and drink the coffee for her.
We proceeded north once again by subway to Central Park. We started at
the Plaza hotel, which was closed to my chagrin. I think it is being
converted to condiminums or something like that. We walked along the
edge of the park, dodging the Muslims handing out their filthy Islamic
PR campaign. Force me to cover myself, you ingrates? I'll beat you
about the head, you bearded praying foreigners. Don't tell me you
don't support terrorism. Nobody supports it. I want you to stop it at
all costs.
We stopped at the Dakota building where John Lennon was shot. Xxxx and
I prevailed upon a fellow tourist to take our picture as we discreetly
stood next to the wall. We didn't stand at the gate or bother the
guards. I'm sure people make quite a scene there, so we just stood
briefly and took a picture then left. The other tourists did likewise.
We walked across the street to the Strawberry Fields and the Lennon
memorial. I looked at it and thought it was pretty excellent, although
I don't like the fresh flowers that people lay about. I think just the
tiles and the word "Imagine" works really well. I said,
"Living is easy
With eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see"
Xxxx chimed in perfectly with
"That is, I think I disagree"
It was a good moment, and another moment to sit and stew about the fact
that John Lennon is no longer with us becuase some wack nut had no idea
what he was doing and had to kill a man who wasn't really bothering
anybody. Not that a reason for his death would make the death easier
to handle. But all you're left with at the end of the day is a lunatic
who doesn't even know what he's done, nor what the consequences are,
even if you punish him by locking him up or executing him. To this
lunatic, everything would be peachy fine. Now, Yoko, you can kill that
bitch and stuff her in a box and float the box in the sea and no one
would care. But why John? We're still suffering to Yoko's yelling and
screetching to this day. Someone hire a nutcase to shoot her! I'd do
it if I could get over my gun phobia.
We proceeded to Trump Tower and went into the lobby. I am not a fan of
Trump's propensity for gaudy excess, but I did enjoy the waterfall. We
ordered some tea from Starbucks in the lobby and sat enjoying the
3-story tiled wonder. I wish I had designed and come up with that
waterfall. I certainly enjoyed it a great deal.
Unfortunately, our flight was leaving soon, so we had to get back to
the hotel and get lost on the New Jersey Turnpike again. Finding the
airport is relatively easy, but trying to get to the proper rental car
location was horrid. The best bet from now on is take the train to
Penn Station on 34th street, then transfer to the subway and path for
the hotel. Total cost would only be $15 per person, and take less than
an hour. That is the plan now that we know.
Newark's check in security has to be the worst and slowest I've ever
seen in quite a while. There is another thing that needs to stop,
right now. Taking off one's shoes is a futile and worthless exercise
which should be banned immediately. No one has ever been caught with
so much as a tack stuck in their shoes ever since some retarded
Frenchie tried to light his shoes on fire. Simply stop examining shoes
right now, and never do it again!
All in all, a wonderful trip but too brief. I wouldn't live there, but
I definitely feel that a visit every other year or so would be
positively brilliant.
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