I sleep, but the city doesn’t.
She thrums gently, a living creature, whose gentle breath blows in over my tiny Times Square hotel room.
Horns honk and sirens blare. People shout and laugh, and the booming bass of someone’s stereo is absorbed by the rhythm of the city. A thousand feet tread paths into the night, seeking love and adventure, sin and pleasure.
But I sleep on oblivious; the music of the streets a lullaby to my eclectic dreams. I have a full day tomorrow, and I must be ready.
When I messaged Amanda- one of my very best friends on the planet- to say that I was coming to New York en route to a conference, she was excited to show me all the wonders that this famous city had to offer.
‘What would you like to do and see?’ she asked me. ‘I’ll make a plan.’
I replied with the longest bucket list in the world, never expecting that we would be able to get through it all. I felt so grateful that I had the opportunity to see any of it at all, let alone in the company of my Aussie sister and her beautiful Mama. I couldn’t wait for our adventure to begin.
If you are keen to follow in our footsteps, here is how the day unfolded.
Midtown Manhatten
We start with a coffee at 9am and head to the centre of Midtown Manhatten. The Rockefeller Centre towers above us, majestic in whites and gilded golds, glittering in the Fall sunlight. Prometheus lounges in the lower plaza, and can only I imagine how impressive it must look in winter, with skaters zipping past the iconic Christmas tree of a thousand holiday movies.
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We pass Atlas, watching over us with the weight of the world on his broad shoulders, and I shoot him a sympathetic smile.
We all know how that feels sometimes, buddy.
Inside St Patrick’s Cathedral, we stop to admire the neo-gothic architecture of the beautiful building. The domed ceilings, arches and stained glass windows offer a peaceful respite from the concrete jungle of the city and we breathe it in, in quiet awe. All are welcome here, regardless of faith or belief, and there is something so wonderfully inclusive about that.
A service is taking place inside, and the pews are packed, so we slip silently away, back into the vibrant chaos of the city.
We strut on down 5th Avenue, pausing only to stick our tongues out at Trump Tower as we go. I feel like a movie star as we peer into the high-end fashion boutiques and jewellery stores. The elegant facades scream of money, a far cry from my usual shopping haunts.
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My inner Holly Golightly does a little jig of excitement at the sight of my personal mecca- Tiffany and Co. But there’s no time for browsing today- we have so much left to see!
We’re headed for the Staten Island Ferry, which leaves every 30mins from the Whitehall Ferry Terminal. This free service runs 24 hours a day, offering stunning city vistas, and more importantly, the opportunity to see the Statue of Liberty in all her glory.
On our way to the subway, we stop for a quick selfie at the Pulitzer Fountain, in Manhattan’s Grand Army Plaza, and the USS Maine National Monument.
The subway, much like the streets of New York, is a melting pot of ages, races, sizes and eccentricity. A man is giving a full-blown concert on his guitar, busking for money, whilst simultaneously telling everyone in the car how much they suck. It’s an interesting approach, and I’m not convinced it’s the recipe for customer success. But he’s happy, and his music is good- so we nod along merrily with the other commuters.
You will want to grab yourself a Metrocard, which is your ticket, re-chargeable at the various stations dotted around the city. Top Tip: Always take your receipt, as these ticket machines do malfunction, and you’ve no proof of your transaction without it.
I was lucky enough to have my fabulous tour guides with me, but the Subway is confusing as hell, and I’d be lying if I said I had a clue where we went. I’m told there are plenty of apps you can download to help navigate this rabbit warren.
The Statue of Liberty
A gift from France, Lady Liberty stretches up into the sky, enlightening the world with truth and justice. She marks 100 years of American Independence and is truly a sight to behold.
She was the towering vision that greeted millions of immigrants as they arrived safely in the 1800s, the proof that they had made it, after weeks at sea. She represented their hopes and dreams of a new life and new opportunities:
The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
As the boat draws closer to her, we all fall silent, watching her grow larger on the horizon. I take a moment to reflect on my own freedom; the choices and privilege that I have. The very fact that I was able to travel solo to the US, to further my own education and career development. That I am free to spend time with a soul so aligned with mine, going exactly where we please. The freedom to make decisions for my own happiness. This is an honour denied to many and I am grateful.
The cityscape stretches out behind us, that breathtaking skyline swathed in cloud. I can almost imagine the outline of a Godzilla Monster on the side of a skyscraper, or an alien ship hurtling through the narrow gaps between the sleek building reflections.
Wall Street
We pop out of the ferry and stride onto Wall Street, the famous Financial District. It’s a Sunday, and there is no sign of the bustling bankers and traders hurrying to work, but it is far from quiet.
The Wall Street Bull awaits, surrounded by adoring fans. (And I do mean adoring- some of them are posing for selfies with the Bull’s Balls.) *shudder!*
The Charging Bull is a bronze sculpture and symbol of ‘aggressive financial optimism and prosperity,’ installed as guerrilla art by Arturo Di Modica, after the stock market crash of 1987. The sculpture became a permanent fixture, after the public outcry when the NYPD seized and impounded it. They were forced to reinstate it in a new home, close by.
On our way to the next item on my list: Ground Zero, we discover one of our bonus finds: Hamilton’s Grave at the Trinity Church Graveyard.
Amanda noticed it as we were walking by, with a yelp of excitement. She and her Mama had just watched the Broadway show ‘Hamilton’, which portrays the story of Alexander Hamilton, a founding father and the first secretary of the Treasury. She filled me in on his extraordinary life (and death during a dual!) as we wandered around tranquil graves, surrounded by the hum of Lower Manhatten.
This is a graveyard to write books about. Dark green moss crawls up crumbling headstones, a thousand stories to be shared. I am curious to learn more about the souls that rest here, but that will have to wait for another time.
Ground Zero: 9/11 Memorial
‘No day shall erase you from the memory of time.‘ -Virgil
Words do not come easily here. My heart wrenches in my chest when I think back to September 11th, and the events that unfolded that day. Tears find me, even now, thinking of the fear and horror of those on the plane, and in the building, and of the bravery of those that rushed towards the chaos, instead of away from it. My dad is a retired fireman in the UK, and I could never watch those rescuers on the news without feeling a pang of panic. They were someone’s family too.
I find myself looking at the sky, at the streets around us, imagining how the nightmare would have unfolded, right here. It is hard to believe now, with the museum and visitors filling the empty space.
The two pools, that stand in the footprints of the Towers, are beautiful. Peaceful. The water cascades down the sides of the monument, then into the void of the square at the centre. The victim’s names are immortalised on the sides. There are just. so. many.
Every day, a single white rose is placed on every victim who would be celebrating a birthday, and I send a silent wish to them.
Empire State Building
We had taken a look at the Empire state building in all it’s illuminated glory the evening before, thinking that we wouldn’t have time to do it properly on our tightly-packed day. But the universe had other plans. Amanda’s Mumma, Lourdes, explained that you can’t come to New York and not see the view from the top of the building. Having followed her sage advice, as you always should with mummies, I am absolutely inclined to agree with her.
The view from the 102nd floor is heart-stopping.
The world pauses. I hold my breath. I take one photo, and another. and another. I know that I cannot dream of doing justice to this incredible view, and yet I cannot help it. I want to capture the moment forever.
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The city pulses below, and even from up here, the wailing of sirens carries to us. I watch tiny yellow taxi’s crawl along the roads, and laugh to myself at the ‘For Rent’ sign on the roof of a shorter building, only visible to us up here in the clouds:
But the afternoon is marching on, and we must move swiftly to reach out next destination. We’re headed to Grand Central Station to re-live some movie moments.
Grand Central Station.
I wait patiently for a giant flash mob to break into dance. None are forthcoming. I content myself, instead, with people-watching from our prime spot, overlooking the hustle and bustle of the concourse.
Central Park
Since we find ourselves so conveniently at a station, we decide to jump back onto the subway and visit the last of our daylight spots- The ‘Friends’ Fountain at Central Park.
I say ‘Friends,’ since we know that the actual fountain resides in a studio somewhere, not in the park as commonly believed. But the fountains that are there are worthy of admiration in their own right, and the late afternoon sunlight dapples through the trees, filling my heart with a golden glow.
The thing that strikes me the most about the park, is the sense of community. Families run and play on the grass. A boyfriend lifts his girlfriend onto the low branch of a sturdy tree, then scoots back to capture her happy face with his camera. There is a roller disco happening. The music floats over to us, and we stop and watch the talented skaters dancing, laughing and balancing towers of water bottles as they whizz around the circuit. Then this guy waltzes by, and makes my day (gotta watch the whole thing!):
The Cherry Hill fountain was originally designed as a place for horses to stop and have a drink. Several carriages are parked nearby, waiting to take tourists around the park. It’s something I’d love to do next time I come back. Lourdes tells us that you could spend an entire day in the park alone, and I can see why.
We walk on to the Bethesda Terrace and Bethesda Fountain and my first thought is: ‘OMG, this is where Kevin is in Home Alone 2!…’
…Followed swiftly by ‘What a beautiful fountain!’
We leave the park via Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon Memorial, created by his widow, Yoko Ono. She wanted to honour her husband with a peaceful spot, for quiet contemplation and remembrance, and she has certainly achieved that.
Broadway Show
The light is starting to fade as we make our way back to Times Square to hunt for tickets for a Broadway Show. We decide on Chicago and manage to get our tickets just 5 minutes before the curtain rises. Yay! Prosecco firmly in hand we sink into our seats with a contented sigh. It feels so good to sit down. According to my Fitbit, we have walked over 28,000 steps today! We shimmy and sing our way through ‘cell-block tango’, and ‘All-that-jazz’ and the final curtain falls over our perfect day in the Big Apple.
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To simply say that our day was magical does it an injustice. There, beneath the bright blue skies and glorious sunshine that New York turned on for us, we saw every single thing on my bucket list and much, much more.
(and the cherry on the cake was managing to squeeze in a cheeky walk over the Brooklyn Bridge the next morning before heading off to the airport, thanks to my beautiful friend Kelly!)
I can see why people fall in love with New York, and why you would return here over and over again. You can’t help but feel drawn in by the people, the food, the acceptance, the noise and the buzzing energy that vibrates deep in your soul.
It is the city that never sleeps, but always dreams.
