Shameless Tourism, Day 1, New York

I have been very lucky to experience the cliché, and essential sights of the north east of the US before. Lady Liberty, the Empire state building, DC, the white house etc. have formed the backbone of my previous touristy visits to the US. This means that during this working visit I have not rushed to return, I have not opted to fight my way through throngs of tourists and endure spectacularly slow queues. Until now. Like how watching a film you’ve seen a hundred times with someone new can revitalize the experience for you, the same applies to tourism. This last week a dear friend of mine from England flew over to spend his first ever week in the US with me, giving me a welcome wisp of home and an excuse to, once again, go full on touristy!

New York, Day 1:

The Natural History museum, of Nightly animation fame, is an impressive testament to “knowledge about human cultures, the natural world, and the universe.”

With beautiful architecture, the museum is a cathedral of knowledge and exploration and in the entrance to the great building hang a series of quotes from Theodore Roosevelt. One that certainly provokes thought is that concerning nature: “The nation behaves well if it treats the natural resources as assets which it must turn over to the next generation increased; and not impaired in value.” One can only wonder of the response of the 26^th president of the United States to the current politicians’ decisions to ignore the Paris climate change agreement, and to make a mockery of the state’s Environmental Protection Agency.

To encourage thought and remember our past is the very heart of the museum, a refreshing concept in a world that seems to be increasingly ignorant of fact, and that labors, as Asimov would have put it, under the false delusion that “democracy means my opinion is just as good as your fact.”

Central Park forms the impressive backdrop to the Museum. I have spoken of the importance of Parks to urban dwellers. But unlike Washington Square Park, that is always alive with music, tourists and bustling activity, Central Park is an oasis of calm. In autumn, its trees begin their slumber all around and the floor is a patchwork of intense colour. The smell of the damp leaves and the great lake provide a sensation you so easily forget is absent in great cities, a real connection to nature. The park is immense, and cropping up throughout the fields and woods stand tall granite boulders and outcrops, almost imitating the eruption of the modern day skyscrapers at the south end of the park. As you enter, the silence becomes all encapsulating extremely quickly and you suddenly realize the absence of the continuous, droning sensations of the city that are normally completely ignored.

5^th Avenue leads south from the oasis of green into the jungle of grey and glass, perhaps one of the most famous roads in the world, piercing the heart of the great city. St Patrick’s Cathedral, an almost old world catholic cathedral, possesses a more ancient form of cavernousness than the rest of the city takes for granted. Crossing the busy throughway is the Rockefeller Centre, a conglomerate of high-rise commercial buildings covering over 20 acres by 51^st street. Commissioned by the Rockefeller’s (‘30s American royalty) it encompasses the famous ice skating ring of many a rom-com (ooh and a Lego shop).

No great walk from the Rockefeller centre is perhaps the most awe inspiring single parts of Manhattan. Times Square, the subject of many a postcard, film, TV show, and perhaps the biggest density of advertising and energy usage per square foot. Despite the absolutely immense size of the square, it feels immensely closed and intimate. Every cliff like wall is illuminated in a dizzyingly pixelled array of colours. Coca Cola, Broadway, McDonalds are some of the adverts you will immediately recognize. But there are hundreds of boards, changing every few seconds in a dance of electronics. Perhaps the definitive testament to a country built on advertising your own labors and showing the best you can of your skills and abilities. Pictures can only tell half the story, and I am not sure if it is the static presence of more electricity than I care to mention, or the sheer awe that makes your hair stand on end.

Now, I must admit that I was somewhat surprised when my friend said he wanted to go to Grand Central station during his visit. As far as I was aware it was just another train station that attained immortal fame in my family for the line “Did he say Grand Central Station or my aunt’s constipation” in the original Madagascar film (this is indeed an accurate reflection of the complete unintelligibility of the speaker systems on the subway). Wow was I wrong. The building even appears impressive from the outside, sitting in the shadow of the Chrysler building. But inside is enough to take your breath away. A truly massive main hall, bedecked in gold and plaster, with intricate chandeliers tumbling below a duck egg blue ceiling that is engraved with the map of the constellations, a truly beautiful symbol of traditional navigation and travelling (much more romantic than a disposable coffee cup and a dog eared copy of the New York times which would perhaps be a more literal embodiment of the daily commute.)

Yes, all of the above we had accomplished in a day, and on foot. When you sign up for a Peter tour, wear comfortable footwear and maybe have a stiff drink first. Turning left out of the side entrance of the station we placed our noses to the ground to pick up the scent of a nearby pub before we finished of the day with a quick peruse at the UN. Now, the English take their pubs for granted, a given constant of life in this universe. But be warned, it turns out that wooden beams, log fires, and carpets stained with 200 years worth of beer are actually a rare commodity when more than 500 miles from London. Searching about for a bar or a vague imitation of a pub, we had a very pleasant surprise. My companion spotted a small doorway across the street that the hoards of commuters and tourists were marching straight past. We ducked down through the small portal and were immediately greeted to that pub smell. That homely, relaxing and ancient smell that closes in on you and wafts you away to an evening free of worry. Listening to the English accents all around, I reflected that this pub was likely something straight from Harry Potter; like the leaky cauldron that appears to wizards but not muggles, or the room of requirement that only appears when one is in desperate need of it, this little door only appears to wayward Brits In search of a pint (or perhaps more likely, to serve the British diplomats leaving the UN after another shocking speech by one of our ministers, a well deserved nerve settler).

Walking down to the UN, past the various countries missions to the UN, the cars emblazoned with ‘Diplomat’ number plates we just dodged a platter of croissants that ended up flying through the air from a silver platter tenuously balanced on top of a black SUV. We took a quick look at the tall building and the flagpoles before turning around, giving a knowing glance to the diplomat who had picked the croissants up of the ground and put them back on the silver platter, and headed home.