Fun in the city

(click for the big picture)

As ever, it was a delight to stay in New York. This is due, in no small part, to the fact that our friends and relatives, Mike and Pam, live there and were, once again, wonderful hosts. We always feel right at home in their fantastic, much lived in and loved apartment in Soho. From there we could jump on the subway and travel to anywhere in town, or we could simply stroll the neighborhood street, take the kids to the playground and find a coffee in any of a thousand cafes.

In contrast to Fort Lauderdale, New York is, paradoxically, on a human scale. Most streets are a mere two lanes, the stores squeeze together, cheek by jowl, presenting a narrow front to the street even if there is a hundred feet of retail behind. As long as you don't look up, it might as well be a busy town of two and three storey buildings. You walk, the private car is an encumbrance, an unwanted evil in New York. Buses and taxis dominate the streets and public transport is the norm. The density of people and the structure of the city allows small stores to survive, and means that we don't face the detested half mile drive between grocery, pharmacy, gas station, office supplies and the other necessary props of modern life that the Fort Lauderdalean would drive between without a second thought.

We arrived at Penn Station, and have since left from there again for Toronto. Pleasant, efficient and effective, it was a very convenient terminus, being just four subway stops from where we were staying. But, just for the fun of it, we also took a trip out to Grand Central Station, which is a totally different experience. It is a magnificent oasis of elegant calm and beauty despite the vast numbers of people travelling through. These huge areas of marble and beautifully designed concourses were a pleasure to see yet, amazingly, the whole place was almost flattened in the name of progress some decades ago. Saved, in part, by the campaigning efforts of Jackie Kennedy Onassis, this station is a must see if you are in New York. Ask for directions to the Oyster Bar, which will lead you downstairs where, just outside the restaurant, the ceiling is beautifully vaulted brick. If two of you stand in opposite corners, turn and talk quietly to the wall, it is a whispering gallery, and your voices will arch above the bustle and hubbub below and return to each other in clear hushed tones. If you are lucky enough to be four people, stand one in each corner and the two different conversations bounce across each diagonal without interference.

Although we were in the city for almost a week, it has flown by and we spent much of the time relaxing and gently stepping out to see a sight or two. Max and I went up to New Jersey, where Mike and Pam spend most weekends at their home in Mountain Lake, and we enjoyed a weekend of board games, garden pottering and general doing not much. Gesa and Issie stayed behind to try and get over their colds, with some but not complete success. We also had a fun trip to the Natural History Museum, where we met up with friends from our Caribbean cruising and enjoyed swapping stories and catching up whilst the kids explored the splendid exhibits.

Now we are moving on again, a twelve hour train ride through the length of New York state and into Ontario via Niagra Falls. We'll arrive in Toronto this evening and stay with friends for a couple of days before catching 'The Canadian', our luxury train ride to Edmonton. The train really is a superb way to travel if you can remove the pressures of time and treat the journey as part of the adventure, rather than a trial to be endured before the vacation can begin, as air travel so often is. Unfortunately, we'll have to endure a little of that ourselves as our aim of getting to Vancouver Island without taking a plane has foundered on practical reality. We will eventually fly from Calgary to Comox, a ninety minute trip that would otherwise require a fearsomely expensive one way car hire, two days of driving and a ferry trip, or the even more frightful idea of fifteen or more hours on a Greyhound Bus. The plane won, sadly.