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.

Day 5 - In a New York state of mind.

I woke up to the sound of construction, cars honking, people cursing and the view of the sun rising lighting up Manhattan's financial district and after inhaling a good amount of the polluted air and scoffing down a bagel and a Starbucks latte for breakfast I couldn't feel more like a New Yorker. I even fooled tourists and other New Yorkers with my new NY 'look'. I was in a New York state of mind and couldn't get out of it.

I took a look around me and felt proud I could blend in with the locals, after which of course I hopped into the car with Tito Ago to start off my day as a proper tourist. Equipped with a camera and a map in hand, I felt ready to take on one of the world's most urban, urban jungles. The safari began at Wall Street, where people regress to the animalistic cries and acts of brutality of their ancestors, after the ringing of the bell. Not only were the pin-suits probably at arms, but the tourists in front of the famous Brass Bull in Wall Street made the place feel like a war zone. Everyone was desperate to take a picture in front of the bull. So much so that people were yelling curses in a variety of languages, pushing and pulling and making very rude-looking gestures. I seriously do not understand why people bother that much for this:




We then drove past the South Sea Port and Fulton Street Market as well as Brooklyn Bridge to our next stop, The Soup Man shop at 190 Bleecker Street. What makes a soup take-away shop so see-worthy? Well the Soup Man has built its fame on the infamous way the Soup Man deals with his customers. The Soup Man is a top chef who makes gourmet soups - think the likes of lobster and other luxury ingredients - and is, like most New Yorkers, a little on the neurotic side. He has a desired method of queuing and insists that all his customers abide by his method, otherwise… no soup. Yep, that's right. You could queue for 2 hours in the cold just to be turned away for not stepping to the left immediately after ordering or being 1 cent short and having to look through your wallet for it. Now who in their right mind would queue up for such self-humiliation? Well come on, let's face it… We as people love making our poor selves go through an unbearable amount of crap, which is why we deal with things like Twilight, or Kristen Cavallari. So we deal with the Soup Man.




Desiring a more filling lunch, we decided to have a hearty meal at a Thai restaurant across the road before heading out to Chelsea to look at art galleries. If any of you are into art… Chelsea is the perfect place to go. There are about 4 major streets filled with galleries. I spent about 3 hours exhausting all the galleries in just one of those streets, starting with an 8-story building with nothing but galleries - an endless buffet of sculptures, portraits, modern art and photography. Afterwards, to cool down, we headed to Emack & Bolio's on Amsterdam Ave between 78th and 79th street, which is rumoured to have the best ice-cream in the city - and only a whopping $4 for a scoop. That equates to the total value of two Manhattan hotdogs man. I'm not much of a sweet-tooth, but since Tito Ago insisted and I thought 'well who knows when I'll ever get the opportunity again', I decided to try one of these $4 scoops, and wawaweewah that was some guhoood ice cream. Sure it doesn't beat any of the gelaterias in Venizia but it was close. Very close. Sitting in the corner, pigging out on my ice-cream I overheard a guy mentioning to his lady friend that he loved Emack & Bolio's so much that he was placed on their Wall of Fame for ordering an 'Emack Attack' - a monstrosity of an ice-cream, containing 24 scoops for around $60. Wow, talk about dedication. We then sat down and chatted with one of Tito Ago's friends, who worked at Emack & Borrio's who referred us to H&H bagels if we wanted to try a 'real' New York bagel, so that's obviously where we went next. After buying several bagels for my Aunt Mona and I to feast on for breakfast the next day, Tito Ago and I separated our ways. He and my Aunt Mona made their journey back to Jersey City, whilst I made my way downtown to Fulton Street to meet an old friend for a 'New York dinner'.



Not knowing what to expect, I was shocked when I saw where - no sorry, what we were dining in. It was an American pub (if that's what you'd call it), which goes by the name of Jeremy's Old Ale Bar. Bras were dangling from the ceiling with autographed pictures of topless chicks plastered around the walls. Now this is what you call class. Just to top off the evening I had an NY bacon cheeseburger and an American ale with chips on the side. Deliciously unhealthy. It may have been a heart attack on a plate, but that would've probably been an ok way to go.

Filled to the brim with grease and ale I managed to haul my now oversized behind back to Jersey City for some America's Got Talent time with my Aunt Mona. Bring on tomorrow New York.

Day 2 - Take me to Broadway

Being a theatre-lover and an ever loyal West End-follower there was nothing that I looked more forward to than being able to watch my first Broadway show ever and it was The Addams family that had the honour. So we hopped aboard the PATH train en route to 33rd Street… whatever that means.

Of all the countries I have ever been in, apart from the Philippines, I have never come across a more indecipherable public transport system. Sure the newer trains occasionally announce the stops and have a plan of the subway, but if you're one of the unlucky tourists who ends up on an old train you'd probably have no idea where on Earth you're headed to. Our destination was some numbered street located in between two numbered avenues on Broadway. Completely dumbfounded I just blindly followed my Aunt Mona and Marsha and occasionally nodded to at least pretend to be of some help in locating the theatre.

Wandering around Broadway and Times Square was a little like being in a Broadway musical yourself. A man dressed up as Superman prancing around to sell bags for $10. A half-naked man with a cowboy hat belting out country tunes with his arch nemesis stationed across the street, a half-naked cowgirl serenading curious male onlookers with country medleys of her own. Oh and how could I forget the group of young wannabe rappers freestyling on cue trying to sell their records to passersby. And I thought London was crazy. A bare 10 minutes in Times Square makes London look like an obedient Catholic school girl. This really is the urban jungle.



Struggling through the jungle past poisonous bag and ticket sellers, it wasn't long until we found it and were sat in our seats in the mezzanine (expect to pay over $120 to even think of sitting in the stalls). However in contrast to London's West End, theatres here are fairly small and so regardless of whether you're sat in the back of the mezzanine or the front of the stalls, you still get a very good view of everything. Unlike in London where I had to rent binoculars just so I could differentiate between the male and female characters on stage.

'Oh my god… this is my first Broadway show!'

Lights dimmed down and the curtain opened… Showtime. The Addams Family musical was nothing less than brilliant. It was funny, entertaining with an appropriate amount of darkness - enough for you to realise they're a pretty weird and sadistic family but not enough to destroy the light-hearted nature of Broadway. It was a great first Broadway experience, but how would I compare it to the West End you say? Well to be honest I think they're equally as good as each other. The only observable differences were that Broadway tickets are a lot more expensive and they have better seating. So which is better is for you to judge. Try them both out and tell me what you think. My heart is still singing a tale of two cities - London and New York.

Expedia sucks.

I'm afraid this post is going to be a little bit of a rant, but to justify this let me first tell you my story fair followers. My parents decided to give me a trip to NYC as a graduation trip and as a reward for my good marks. Ecstatic about the offer I unfortunately turned to expedia.de to find flights that wouldn't destroy my parents' finances... wrong move. At first I selected the cheapest flight from Vienna to Newark and entered my credit card and passenger details as required. After submitting my information the website gave me an error message saying the transaction could not be processed, so with the encouragement of my mother by my side I gave it another go. This time all appeared to go well - the transaction went through and I received a confirmation email detailing the flight times, booking references etc.

Now this is where the nightmare begins. In the midst of my preparations for my one-woman journey across the Atlantic I was worried to receive an email from Expedia detailing that I had in fact made 2 bookings to Newark and would have to cancel one of the bookings for a fee of €476!! Talk about cheeky, greedy and all-around repulsive. Alarmed, I phoned their office in Germany to explain my situation and bring their attention to their error. All they could tell me was that I did have to cancel one of the flights or be charged for both, but would receive €100 compensation. €100 from €1000 that you nicked off me? Yeah right. Still in the height of my battle against the incompetency of Expedia I wonder how on Earth they could continue with a booking using the same card, the same passenger details on the same trip at the same time?! Would I really want to go on holiday with a clone of myself? Not only that but it appears that the second booking they were gracious enough to charge me for only flies out from London to Newark instead of Vienna-London-Newark. I guess I could teleport to London, ain't that right Expedia?

Well after a little bit of research on Crapedia, I did find it consoling that there have been many unfortunate others who have been duped by Expedia. Check it out. I highly recommend to avoid using them unless you feel like throwing away a little, no sorry, A LOT of money.