Panic on the Streets of London

Panic on the streets of London
Panic on the streets of Birmingham
I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again ? - The Smiths, "Panic"



I woke up again to the sound of sirens and cars whizzing past in breakneck speed. It is the 4th day of riots in London. The streets are empty, the pubs shut at 10pm last night... It appears the sleepless city of Europe has gone silent. No one knows exactly why these riots are occurring - are these acts of mindless violence or has it stemmed from deep-seated political and sociological problems.

It all began after a 29-year old man was shot dead by police at Tottenham on Saturday night. Since then pockets of violence have broken out in Hackney, Brixton, Lewisham, Peckham, Islington, Oxford Circus, and Ealing. Ealing, the neighbourhood where I lived only two months ago is one of the more severely damaged areas. Having gone up in flames last night, BBC is showing images of burnt tarmac, buildings, and cars this morning and although I deeply loathed living there, I feel incredibly sad.

Next I hear that the bookshop down my road was destroyed. It seems surreal. People are staying at home, too scared to hit the streets. Whether these youths are fighting for their rights or not, they need to know that they are destroying the lives of the people of the very people they are protesting for. Small family-owned businesses are suffering the most, getting burned to the ground, destroyed and looted, and unlike the larger franchise companies, they do not have the insurance to cover this.

David Cameron has promised to put more policemen on the streets tonight so that these youths will feel the full force of the law. I hope this chaos ends soon.

the mad psyientist

Well I know it's been quite a long time since my last post. I do apologise, but I have been drowning in a sea of academic work ever since I started my MSc course at Imperial. Anyway, although being a Masters student does not provide the most social of circumstances for a student, I nevertheless have some news to blog of - I have decided to relaunch my science blog.

It is called Psyience Matters and I will be blogging about new scientific discoveries that have caught my interest with a little commentary of my own just to spice things up. If you're into a little bit of geek literature, do check it out and follow. I am still figuring out the inner workings of Wordpress so there is not much available at the moment. Bear with me.

Day 9 and 10 - I Heart NY

After having shopped to my heart's content in Jersey City outlets and using up all the credit on my US phone to pay one last phone call to all my NY peeps before I headed back to Euroland, I had not really done much in the last 2 days of my American adventure. I caught up on sleep, had my first salad after a week of pure grease, and had a few last minute catch-ups with family and family friends near the area. Sitting in my room in my aunt's Jersey City flat thinking about my imminent trip back to Vienna then London I couldn't help but wish I didn't have to.

Sure thing, my one week stint in New York may not seem like enough time for the average person to fall head over heels in love with a city - but call me a romantic, call me cheesy or a dirty cheat, because fact is I've cheated on London with New York and I liked it. LOVED IT.

Farewell U. S. of A. Till later NYC. No doubt we will reunite soon and our next meeting will be ten times better than the last.

Day 8 - The Wild Wild West Village

I have to confess the title of this post may be a little misleading as I actually started out in the East - with a little excursion across the Brookyln Bridge, an acclaimed rite of passage for every New Yorker wannabe. So braving my hangover by downing some water and some OJ I trekked across the Brooklyn Bridge on a beautiful Friday morning as many Manhattanites and Brooklyners have done before me. There's not much to say about walking down Brooklyn Bridge, except for that it's breathtakingly beautiful. You'll see the most beautiful view of Manhattan and Brooklyn, not to mention it seems to be a walk popular amongst the New Yorker love birds. Now I keep hearing from New Yorkers that you either love Manhattan or you love Brooklyn. Whether this is true, I have no idea but having already given my heart to Manhattan I felt a little naughty sitting in a park at Brookyln Heights having a sandwich *wink*.







Brooklyn and I enjoyed about a good half an hour together before I had to rush back to Manhattan for a lunch date with an old school friend. After convincing me that American beer can be good (courtesy of Brooklyn Lager) she strung me along to the best pizza in New York, Artichokes on 14th Street and after having had a staple diet of pizza, beer and other unhealthy goodies for the past week I think I acquired enough of a palette to distinguish between amazing and crap pizza. On that note, Artichokes was delicious! Especially their artichoke pizza. I recommend it to anyone who wants to try some proper New Yorker pizza plus it'll probably fill you up for the rest of the day, if not the entire weekend.

'Why is it that in New York, guys actually want to date?' I asked my friend, taking a swig of Brooklyn Lager.
'Well it's all about dating in Manhattan, but it kind of puts more pressure on having good dates. You have fewer chances to redeem yourself.'
'Interesting.'


So having figured out that dating in New York won't exceed the blessed 'third date' most of the time, I grudgingly finished off my lager and pizza before heading to the West Village for a coffee date with a New Yorker beau. We went to this coffee house near Bleecker Street called West 11th Café. It's a cute little café near to a variety of trendy looking bars and restaurants, and I think it may be around the corner of where Julianne Moore. No I didn't stalk her whereabouts but my date and I did happen to bump into her on our way to the café where she met my clumsy-looking gaze with a friendly and approving smile. It was a few seconds before I could shake off the effects of starstruckness and turn to my unimpressed companion who informed me that she did happen to live somewhere around the corner. I guess it takes more than Julianne Moore to impress someone who models part-time for Marc Jacobs.

After a few cups of coffee, smoothies and splitting a sandwich we went for a walk along the Hudson river. When in New York one MUST watch the sunset by the Hudson river. It has the most spectacular view of the New Jersey skyline. There was no better way to spend my last evening in Manhattan.

The sun set and reality set back in. It was back to John and Broadway equipped with a box of Magnolia Bakery muffins as a 'see you later' treat for my New York ladies. A few glasses of wine, pastry, and a 'Sleepless in Seattle' session later, I had to pack my bags and hop aboard the train back to good ol' Jersey City. Goodbye Manhattan, I had a blast.

Night 7 - Cupcakes, Marc Jacobs and Booze. Oh my!

Flying high from my rencontre with Johnny Fontane and escaping the Italian-American charm with all my decency and honour intact I continued the journey to seek out the Magnolia Bakery for a decent calorie-packed snack. Renowned for having the 'best cupcakes in New York', according to the ever-so accurate Carrie Bradshaw, I knew I could not leave the Big Apple without taking a big bite out of those tempting little icing-topped devils. Already having memorised most of the New York Subway system I hopped aboard the 1 Uptown train to Bleecker Street.



Bleecker Street, I would say is probably one of the more trendier areas of New York. Whilst the Upper East Side is impeccably clean (by city standards of course), the Bleecker Street area was a little more rough around the edges. Not rough like Harlem or anything, but let's just say the Shoreditch of New York sans the frame-wearing twats. After slipping in and out of Bleecker Street's many boutiques and vintage shops I finally found the Magnolia Bakery. Having had sunk my teeth into pastry heaven, my day was perfected by looking up and seeing a Marc Jacobs across the road. Of course being a student and being very very bad at managing my finances I had to pry myself away from the Marc Jacobs boutique and visit Bookmarc across the road. This shop is a perfect place to get presents for female friends or family because it's Marc Jacob's merchandise for decent prices. By decent prices I mean you won't have to shell out 100 bucks for a pair of tights or something. Bookmarc mainly holds books, hence the name, for aspiring photographers, designers and others in the fashion or media biz, but it also stocks cute little bags, rucksacks and Marc Jacobs stationary and stuff. If that wasn't enough to convince you to check out the store, maybe the insanely handsome shop keepers will.

Now onwards to the more interesting part of the day/night - Manhattan Thursdays. After cabbing it back to my homegirl's Manhattan loft in John and Broadway, I quickly dumped my shopping and popped open a few bottles of wine with the ladies for some pre-Piano's drinks. Now you'll have to excuse me for the many references to Sex and the City, but living in a loft with 4 other New Yorker women just resonates SATC in my mind over and over. After conversing about our various love lives over a few glasses of Pinot Grigio it was time to slip on our dancing shoes for a proper Manhattan night out in Piano's Bar on Ludlow Street.




We may have not left the house till midnight but the party was in full swing till the early hours of the morning. The drinks were cheap, the music was cheesy, and the company was great and unlike the cheap club-life of London there was a distinct lack of street fights and vomit. Brilliant. To add the cherry on the sundae, the girls and I were promptly joined by a Ferragamo model and his mates followed swiftly by the beautiful Marc Jacobs shopkeeper/models. In deep conversation with one of the Marc Jacobs party I was pleasantly surprised to realise that this man was not only gorgeous and stylish but ridiculously clever as well.
LET'S HEAR IT FOR NEW YORK.

Day 7 - Leave the gun. Take the Cannoli.

'Leave the gun. Take the Cannoli.' - Clemenza, The Godfather Pt.1

TGIT -Thank goodness it's Thursday is the motto of the Manhattan-ites. I decided to have a little lie-in after the martini-fuelled night before and to prepare for the chaos that normally ensues on Manhattan Thursdays. Later in search for my caffeine fix I managed to crawl out of bed to the nearest Starbucks.

One thing that particularly struck me as true about New York is their thriving dating scene. I recall the countless times I'd be lazing on the couch with my best mates watching re-runs of Friends and Sex and the City and thinking: 'My god. This is such a far cry from reality. Who on earth would get chatted up in a lift, on the subway or in a coffee house?' Now I've realised (and must tell my girls post haste) that getting picked up in a place other than a bar or pub by a sober and seemingly sane man may only exist in fiction in Europe, but it's a pretty frequent occurrence in the Big Apple. On that note, it wasn't long until I had my first friendly chat-up in the Starbucks down the block.

'So this is your coffee?'
'Yep think so.'
'Did I spell your name correctly?'
'Uh yes...'
'It's a very pretty name. And I really like your hat.'
'Thanks'
'What are you up to today?'

In spite of the many friendly and seemingly normal male New Yorkers, there are of course the select freaks dotted around the city. I recall my first day in Times Square at the local pizzeria. His choice of pick-up line, Joey Tribiani's infamous: 'How you doin?'. Does that actually ever work? Sad to say that that unfortunately that wasn't enough to make me weak in the knees, so after a friendly dismissal I rushed to the corner to eat my pizza quietly and at a distance. Now remember how I had mentioned the danger of the New Yorker charm? Combine the deadliness of that with an irresistable Italian smile and you've got the gist of the men in Little Italy.



Being one of the biggest 'Godfather' fans known to mankind, I could not leave Manhattan without paying homage to the home of the Corleone family, especially with the San Gennaro festival going on. For the other Godfather fans out there this is the festival where Vito Corleone kills for the first time and also the time when Vincenzo guns down Joey Zaza - so YES it is an important time for a Godfather fan like me. I wandered down Mulberry St. past cigar stalls, pizza, cannoli and a few 'ciao bellisimas', hoping to find myself a Michael Corleone. Instead I found myself at the annual cannoli eating competition. Six minutes, six contestants and a truckload of cannolis. Who can eat the most in 6 minutes? To add to the excitement, Gianni Russo who plays Vito Corleone's godson (Johnny Fontane) in The Godfather attended as the cannoli-eating competition judge. Oh my god, oh my god... This probably the closest I'll get to the Corleone family EVER. I was torn between awe for Johnny Fontane and disgust for Fat Flash Gordon frantically shoving his 13th cannoli down his esophagus. Containing my disgust I rushed towards the stage after the competition to find Johnny. Yes yes I may sound like a bit of a groupie, but I'm sure my fellow Godfather-followers would've done the same. I shoved my way through the crowd and managed to shake hands and banter a little before having a picture taken with dearest Johnny Fontane. Made. My. DAY.





After all the hype I decided to cool myself off with a glass of Italian red and a real Italian-American pizza. Oh yes, another grease and fat-filled meal for me. When in New York, healthy eating just seems to fall by the wayside for me. And to add to my calorie-packed day, I thought I'd say ciao to Little Italy and head to Bleecker Street to try out the famous Magnolia Bakery muffins before heading out for the infamous Manhattan Thursday Nights.

Side note: I'll be posting another entry for Day 7 just because it was the longest most awesome day/night ever. Go figure... it's Manhattan Thursdays.

Day 6 - Museum Madness

What better way to spend a sunny day in New York City than browsing around the American Museum of Natural History? Fresh off the PATH train I made my way to the museum at 82nd and 7th. The entrance fees are a whopping $15 for students… or $12. I hardly remember. I do remember that it was $18 for general entrance and a special show though. Well in any case every single dollar spent on entry was worth it. I geeked out for 4 hours in the museum, exhausting everything from the planetarium's shows, such as the IMAX Hubble space film and the Journey to the Stars show, to the dinosaur fossils and the exhibition of the peoples of Asia. After having lived in London for the past 3 years and getting used to not paying for museum entrance, I completely understand now why the AMNH does and should charge for entry. I could've spent the next few weeks of my life there but I had to tear myself away from nerd time to meet my father's colleague at the United Nations.



Already running late I got myself one of those $2 hotdogs from one of the many stands on Manhattan's streets and tried to navigate myself from uptown Manhattan to 42nd and 1st… mapless. Oh yes. Shock horror I had stupidly forgotten my subway map in New Jersey so I had to improv my way downtown… and fast. Recollecting as much of the subway map as I possibly could, and frying my nerve cells in the process, I managed to find a downtown train to a stop which had a crosstown bus that would take me to 1st avenue. It wasn't until I stepped off the bus around the corner from the UN building, when I realised I had triumphed over New York's ridiculously indecipherable public transport system - Me - 1, Subway - 0.

In comparison to the UN building in Vienna, the New York United Nations building was surprisingly underwhelming and uninspiring. Not really the type of the place where you'd imagine world resolutions are formed. After making it through security and a quick tour of the IAEA (International Atomic Energy Agency) office, my Dad's friend and colleague Evelyn, invited me out for an al fresco glass of wine at a nice Turkish eat-spot nearby. It was just up the road and called Go and Eat in Istanbul. The ambiance was lovely. Everything was al fresco, which was perfect for the sunny but mild weather. A live jazz band was softly jamming in the background accompanied by the soothing sound of the waterfall fountain. The service was also excellent, not to mention their wine selection. I have not yet developed a sensitive taste to wine, but I do know that it was a far cry from the awful 5 quid for 2, bottles of 'Italian red' that grace the shelves of off-licenses all over England. Two hours of good wine, good conversation and even better company, Evelyn and I had to part our ways at Grand Central Station. Again I was running late for a dinner date with Genia. So after our goodbyes and a quick glance around Grand Central Station I sprinted down towards the subway, direction downtown Union Square 14th Street.



Union Square is popular amongst the locals for its many restaurants and a variety of swanky bars and is of course the home of NYU, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen's university (boohoo!). We began the evening at a trendy bar about 2 minutes from the subway station. Sadly I cannot recall the name of this bar. The only details I remember is that it was located at the corner of a street and that all the barmaids were models. Sipping on my first ever martini (yes pathetic I know) I felt a little like Carrie Bradshaw, without the unnecessary drama and the $500 shoes. We moved swiftly onwards to a restaurant, also in Union Square, called Spice. It was a very Sex and the City-esque swanky restaurant, with lounge music blaring loudly in the background… well in the foreground more like it, with a maître d' with one of those headsets and a guest list.

'Hi welcome ladies. Would you like to get a drink at the bar while we prepare your table?'

Couldn't get any swankier than this. Cute bartender, first-class cocktails, dingy but fluorescent locale… all this just screamed Sex and the City. With cocktails in hand we laughed, talked, ate and drank the first portion of the night away. Before we knew it we were on the rooftop of some New Yorker bar talking to a bunch of boozed up Manhattan yuppies. What they lacked in intellectual conversation, they definitely made up for in hilarity.

'Dude you guys should totally talk to Isaac. He knows like everyone around here.'

Impressive. Not. Taking in a multitude of crappy chat-up lines, Genia and I decided to abandon ship and call it a night. Wednesday nights attract the weirder crowd, according to her. But I'd better prep myself both physically and mentally for tomorrow.

'It's all about Thursdays man.'

Let's see what the Sleepless City has got to offer.