Two days in the mountains, two days in the desert. Part 2.

The sky is too big, the mountains too vast, the road too endless, the radio only playing road trip music (Stuck in the middle with you....) Sam and I speculate as to whether the mountains are in fact flats from an extra large sound stage in LA and we are part of a social experiment that is at that very moment being broadcast live to the rest of the nation...oh hang on, they already made that film right?  It is all too perfect, too achingly gorgeous.  We climb higher and higher into the mountains.....and then....DESERT.  Comedy cactuses appear.  If there was a bend in the road, I would expect to see Roadrunner outwitting Whiley Coyote. But there are no bends.  Just miles and miles and MILES of flat flat road that goes on and on into the distance. Every mile  expect to see Vegas in the distance.  We get closer and closer, 30 miles to Vegas, nothing, 20 miles, still nothing, just hills in the distance.  A strange Area 51 type place that is obviously using the suns energy to power hidden underground laboratories, a HUGE cross roads with nothing but gas stations and antique barns (because truck drivers need old lamps too), a hilly billy encampment by the side of the one and only gas station with the customary sherif and random old folk sitting outside checking on the passing trade....

 And then BAM... Vegas baby.  Not quite out of no where, although I am sure at night it must cut an impressive site after hours of no lighting on the freeway. HOLY SHIT.  Massive culture shock.  There are simply no words to even begin to describe what we see.

New Bloody York. The Statue of Bloody Liberty

Omg omg omg omg.  Freaking out in a massive way and all of us screaming Sam does a heroic job of piloting us into the lobby of the Monte Carlo and we are introduced to the delights of Valet parking, simply the only way that I am ever going to park my car again, in fact when I come home I am going to insist that Sam meets me outside the house, takes the keys off me and parks the car discreetly for me.    

And now I am sitting in bed, the night before we are leaving, I am not really sure how many days we have been here, everything blends into everything else after a while.  How to describe it?  Having been to Orlando, I would say its a very, very adult playground similar to Orlando.  But bigger, much MUCH bigger.  You can not even leave the casino without a struggle.  There are literally no exit signs and the doors are tinted so you can not see the outside, the carpets are too swirly, the lights from the machines too dazzling and they are all literally too huge for you to escape

Inside ever casino there is a shopping mall, but they all sell roughly the same thing, and every casino has roughly the same games, so after a while it feels as if you are endlessly repeating time and space, it's all the same and yet slightly different.  The Excalibur is a castle, complete with staff dressed as Hallmark interpretations of Knights.  The Luxor is Egypt as interpreted by someone that has only seen it from pop out books when they were 6, the rooms going up in decreasing squares into the top of the pyramid, the MGM Grand, once entered can never be left.... Of course it is amazing and wondrous, the fountains at the Bellagio are astounding and beautiful, the volcano on the other hand at the Mirage is just plain weird and makes me laugh non stop for 20 minutes.  Thankfully we didn't see the pirate pornfest that is the show at TI (not even Treasure Island anymore, wouldn't want to appeal too much to families) but we do stand outside the Venetian and gasp at the people that have paid money... REAL money to be in a fake gondolier.  WOW.  The Rialto bridge? WOW. 

We explore, laugh out loud, get hot.  Retire to the pool where they are blasting out loud trashy Euro pop with a DJ by the side of the wave pool... Hmmm, no quiet alone time for me with Rupert Everett and his memories....

There has to be more than loud swirly machines and 'love in an elevator' played loudly day and night?

Part 3 of Vegas to come when I am safely away from here.....

Two days in the mountains two days in the desert. Part One

I  feel like Dorothy as she slept in the poppy field in Oz.  I honestly can't remember how long it has been since we arrived in Vegas (baby) i am sure they pump mind altering substances into the casinos to make to forget all time & reason.... You could spend hours just inside one casino, honestly not knowing whether it is day or night, your every whim catered for, no need to leave for food, sleep, drinks..... There are no signs in the casinos telling you how to get out, and most of then casinos have no wifi, or it is now easily accessible (nothing to detract from the gambling) and for someone like me that is always scarily drawn towards the flashing lights...seriously we have to leave soon or I will be consumed....

To try and put this into some perspective, we left SF reluctantly many days ago and travelled right down the spine so California.  Hours and Hours of nothing apart from recognising the names on the signs, names out of books I have studied for months. Then we hit the mountains.

And we feel like we are in a cowboy film.  Robert Mitchum should be riding his horse over the hills, saying 'howdy ma'am' and tipping his hat as we pass.  The mountains are VAST, there is simply no other word for it.  At times there is TOO MUCH sky, it makes me dizzy.  We arrive at Kernville and relaaaaaxxxxx.  The motel is small, rustic, sweet, with a man playing a banjo on the porch as we arrive (ukulele Daisy will pipe up, but it sounded like a banjo to me)  The town is tiny, very clean, there is the obligatory fat sherif in his car ('morning ma'am')  and the saloon complete with swing doors.  There is the town green, looked after by the Parks and Recreation department (vote Knope) and there are lots of antique shops that seemed filled with the concept of antiques, rather than anything that is genuinely old

It is achingly cute and I obviously start to plan how we can buy the empty shop and turn it into, well golly gee, I sure don't know but surely there is room in this town for l'le old me?

As it turns out, we can't white water raft, which is the reason we have made this detour on our way to Vegas (baby) as there is no water, white or otherwise.  It transpires that sadly the local economy which is entirely based on tourism (no industry, no employment, nowt) is really struggling due to lack of water.  Well, lack of snow really, which means there is nothing to melt into the rivers.  So not only have they lost their  skiing trade over the winter, but all of the ultra cute guesthouses and bars and adventure companies are in danger of going under as people can not canoe down dry rivers.  Sad.  

Still, for us this is not really an issue, the river is still lovely, the town is ultra charming and it is good to just chill out. There are more reasons to come to the area anyway, the Kernville brewery and especially the amazing Mercedes, our waitress, makes us feel glad we made our way through the mountains.  they brew a mean ale (which we try most of the varieties and yes, we pronounce em good) and cook up a damn fine fish taco.  Daisy also decides she needs a break from her tedious parents and releases us to go and indulge our desire for further exploration. I can hardly contain my grin even now as I think about Silvertown in Bodfish.  Silvertown was created in the 60's by a man that wanted to create a genuine old West Town Theme park, so he started to buy up the old properties and moved them all to his land in Bodfish, which at that point was a thriving town by the side of Lake Isabella.  He lovingly partially restored the buildings, adding treasures and stories he fund from the local area and then left them in a state of 'preserved decay'.  The theme park never got beyond the small high street he created.  And then they created a Bypass around the town of Bodfish and it died.  So now there is an old West ghost town, in a ghost town.

 BUT it is so good!!!! The owner opens up for us and Sam and I wander and giggle and play cowboys to our hearts content!  There are covered wagons, honky tonk pianos, bear traps, mining tools, cowboy and ghost stories and ghost cowboy stories, crazy dummies and genuine atmosphere and it is everything I wanted to see.....The West and the search for freedom and gold is a part of history that I am totally fascinated with and Silvertown perfectly captures that pioneering spirit

 I do not not want to leave and we spend ages talking to the rather crazy paranormal obsessed owner who is convinced he lives in the most haunted place in America.  

We are looked after by the wonderful women that run Cheryl's diner, 5 generations all running the towns diner, complete with aching Country & Western on the radio, endless coffee and amazing local customers, including the two brothers that are the size of American fridges, complete with wife beater vests tight over their vast frames, sun glasses on the backs of their shaved heads and tattooed arms as thick as tree trunks ('now you say hi to Mama for us now y'hear') or the silver couple on their matching Harley's complete with fringed luggage and the slightly slower sister with the wonky eye that takes a fancy to Sam and tells us of how she is always ID'd in bars as she looks so young (she is easily in her 50's)

I love it and could happily have stayed longer, more to explore in the area and I could easily have waited for the snow to come, and then melt just so I could white water raft, at some point.

But nope..... We must head on out.  And as we do Sam & I start to feel as if we are in our own private movie, something like The Trueman show where everything is almost a little too perfect.

Part two to come...............

And then they played the Scissor Sisters.

Sam & Daisy have been packed off to Alcatraz and I am as nervous as if I were going on a blind date.  I have arranged to meet Daniel, the artist from We Were Here for coffee this morning, literally just at the end of the road in a beautiful little cafe, surrounded by flowers and trees and with a perfect view of the retro trolley buses as they go down the hill from Castro to the city.  The sun is shining again after some rain and it is both bright and breezy at the same time.  

I spent an hour in the company of a true gentle man, Daniel was charming, so charming and I obviously fell in love.  Talking to him was easy, he is so relaxed and chatted to me about SF, about coming to London in the 70's, life in New York, the changes in SF after Google and art. Lots of art. It was such a pleasure to spend time with him and to have the opportunity to express how much watching the documentary had meant to us as a family.  It was like having a coffee with a lovely friend and I invited him to come and see us when he and his husband come to England

I leave Daniel inspired, uplifted and with mixed emotions as I know we are coming to the end of our SF adventures.  I take timeout just to immerse myself in Castro... I treat myself to a haircut, which turns out to be the best haircut I have ever had.  For $16 Linda, in 10 minutes, totally understood what I wanted... And despite my fear as she picked up the clippers, she managed what most other hairdressers have failed to do!  I tipped her big, to her surprise and joy (she made me take her card, I didn't have  the heart to tell her we lived quite a way away) and then I wander up and down Castro.  Taking it all in, the shops selling bright coloured pants with extra friendly staff, the tiny dogs being carried, men holding hands with their partners, the red lights of the Theatre Castro. I love you.

Sam and Daisy have also had a ball at Alcatraz and their photos look brilliant, they come back with an ease in each others company that is just lovely. They are both really playful and want to tell me all about their trip...prisoners, sharks,the temperature of the water... And they have amazing photos.  E wind up into China town, but we all know we really want to get back, dump our new (zebra print) suitcase and get back out into Castro for our final evening.

We change and head on out, have a welcome cocktail in a bar and  meet e most friendly guy, Steven in the pants shop, who, taking a liking to Daisy tells us all about Long Beach, that we simply have to go to when we are in LA as it is full of 50's & rockabilly stuff that we sure must just go see. He even writes it all down for us and gives us the name of his friend to ask for! Damn they are all so friendly! 

I take Sam & Daisy back the bar I had met Daniel in that morning as it is just super cute and we have a carafe of Margarita (when in Castro...) and order, and then we meet another charming man that invites us to play the pub quiz, initially we politely decline, in our best English accents, but his enthusiasm wins us over and playing as 'Wills & Kate's Love Child'  we have simply the best night! Daisy is charming and animated, we laugh at every question we can't answer (which is most of them) and surprisingly we do not come last.  I think the quiz guy was feeling a little sorry for us personally, and then they played the Scissor Sisters.  It was just the perfect end to our time in Castro. i Love Castro.

Don't dream it. Be it.

Don't dream it, be it.

There are some days that will stay with us forever, days that inspire us, days that seem endless and so short, days that sustain us.  San Francisco has given me one of those days.

I have to admit I wasn't over enamoured with SF on our first day, the hassle and the Disney... Two extremes that just didn't sit right with me, so I had thought maybe it was all going to be like that and we set off in th morning thinking 'well, New York was amazing' BUT BUT BUT... Then the sun was shining with a cooling breeze, the tall mansion like houses, with their huge columns painted bright colours, gold leafing on the frescos,  rainbow flags flying got inside me.  We walked down into Castro and I feel uplifted, I know it all sounds rather trite, but it's true... Castro was everything I thought it would be, beautiful, brash, open, almost like a dream, some where to aspire to in a very real sense.  We walked past the theatre (I feel like howling as we have just missed a showing of JCS, WITH actual TED NEELY....) 

 And it is perfect.  As we walk we explain some of the history of this area to Daisy, just why it is so important and she is so very interested, really wants to know more.  We stop outside what was the camera shop owned by Harvey Milk and inside is now a shop which sells merchandise supporting equality, we all buy gifts for people we love at home and each other, Daisy proudly wearing her love equality dog tag as we leave the shop.  We carry on wandering, just being part of somewhere that is as important to us as other historical sites we have visited across Europe, the history as relevant.  Daisy asks why they are not taught Gay history at school, to which there is no answer and she is insistent we visit the GLBT museum just off Castro, which is informative and fun.

We are emotional. The sun is shining and it all just feels perfect.  We walk to find the Flower Seller, one of the reasons we decided to come to SF on this trip.  The tree lined streets with their beautiful houses just seem so intensely beautiful.  People pass us walking their tiny little dogs, carrying armfuls of flowers smile and say hi. And there he is.  When we came across the documentary  We Were Here last year, Sam and I watched it through tears.  At once terrifyingly sad and truly inspirational, it has stayed with me constantly, as I know from reading on the film makers public forums it has with everyone that has watched it.  I felt so changed by the experience I had wanted to find the people in the film and thank them for sharing with me their most intimate thoughts and memories.  Being politically active  at University in the late 80's early 90's, being a passionate gay rights supporter and the working in the theatre at the time of the AIDS epidemic was horrific and polarising for me, it shaped who I am now.  And now, working with young people AIDS almost has been consumed into normal life, it is not seen as the most scary, terrifying thing that can happen.  Which is both good and bad and we we keen that Daisy knows and understands this part of history.  When we watched it together as a family, we all cried again.

The moment I see Guy, I start to cry, as I am now.  He is just right there, on the street corner, chatting to a young man that we later learn is training to be a doctor in the area.  he turns to us and smiles and then lets out the biggest laugh and we can not help but laugh too!!  Guy is amazing, we tell him why we have come and he is genuinely happy, he hugs us all, laughs his big big laugh.  We talk to him about why his story moved, our whole family so much and he just tells us so many stories! When he hitched around Europe, when visited Endland (Stockport) why he left Baltimore, telling us about the parade he was in recently (wrist, wrist, elbow elbow, just how the English wave) and I am totally in love.  He is so genuinely here, so happy to see us and I love sharing this with my family and we all cry and we all hug.  We are reminded that life goes on, that people are happy and survive and we are inspired.  This moment, the pastel colours of the houses, the little dogs being walked, the smell of Guys flowers and his laugh will be with me in my heart always.

There is more, of course.  Haight Ashbury with Daisy, Buena vista park, the joss sticks, the hippies (still), Amoeba records, the shop with the animal skulls, the steam punk  shops Daisy falls in love with, dinner at the Sausage Factory later, much later. But for me this morning in Castro is it.  My moment.

8 minutes

8 minutes.

I don't sleep very well.  Too many happy hour margaritas possibly, or nerves at being on the move again.  Not sure.  But both Sam and I are awake early.  Which is good, I force everyone up and through the shower.  I am nervous about getting the Subway to the airport, I don't know how long it is going to take, or even whether the route I think will get us there, WILL get us there.  

I think it is safe to say it was simply the most stressful journey I have ever taken, the subway trains do not arrive, they are slow, we have to change, the airport train stops and starts  ARGHHGGHHHHHH.  I tell Sam we are just not going to make our flight to San Francisco and start plan my tears at the check in desk.  We approach the terminal (4, 4!!!) and run as fast as we can.....pushing people it of the way, kicking kids off elevators that kind of thing....I jam the passport in the self check in kiosk, it's stuck, ARGGGGGGGHHHHHHH... And then an angel appears, another kind New Yorker rescues us, tells me to calm down, we have a whole 8 minutes....it will all be ok.  And it is. And we are on the plane going on holiday again. 

This journey seems longer... But we do have the best stewards on the plane, whereas the ones on the flight to NY were soooo cool, the ones on this flight are sooooo friendly! The lead (head, main man- what do you call them?) comes and chats to Sam for ages and is just lovely! 

SF looks and feels different from the moment we step off the plane, the colours are sharper, the air is sharper (and colder....)  the houses we can see from the train are so colourful.  Totally different feel....but our first introduction to the city is not the best.  Our instructions say get off the BART at 16th & Mission.... And this is not where you would advise anyone to get off. Now this is what I imagined New York would be like, rough, drug dealers on the streets, crack addicts, filthy scraggy people and a feeling of really not being safe.  We quickly jump a cab to Castro, which is gorgeous, but we never quite get that feeling out of our minds.... And we see it everywhere.  The homeless and the drugged out, in the tube stations, on the streets, hassling everyone, generally being mad.  It makes me feel on edge in a way I wasn't expecting from here at all.

Our apartment is wonderful, beautiful and at the top of a crazy hill! From here you can see over what seems to be the whole of the city and WOW the hills!!! I have never seen hills like this, virtually vertical and wow...the struggling up them! Hilarious.

We get straight out there, stopping for a brief refuelling... God the boys are hot *sigh* .  This part I was hoping for, gorgeous gay young boys... Being fabulous.... Lots of rainbow flags....ultra ultra ULTRA sigh....

.  And we decide to be tourists....jump on the F, which is the trolley car, all retro 50's styling all the way down to Fishermans Wharf.  Yes. Was Fishermans Wharf designed by Disney?  It has a very Orlando feel to it, completed with the Bubba Gump Shrimp at the end....fun though.... The breeze whips around, the views out to Alcatraz look amazing and the sea lions are smelly and hilarious. Me and Daisy  indulge in extra large ice creams, which a seagull the appropriates from Daisy! All those years of living by the sea, only to have your ice cream stolen in SanFrancisco......

 Tired. Very tired, we manage a short walk around Union square, before retiring to the comforts of the biggest squishiest sofa, the biggest TV known to woman and a glass (or bottle it seems now I check this morning...) of Californian wine..... Ginger the cat looks thrilled to have Daisy return to stroke and make a fuss of her and Sam & I read the guide books to plan our adventures tomorrow.

Well, that went quickly

I can't believe that this is our last full day here.  am sitting on the back porch listening to all the little children arriving for the play school, have just come back from my final run in New York, drinking tea and eating america. 

It is hot, a slight breeze and Daisy tells me we have 40% chance of rain, which I can just feel as I write this!!! Is it terribly English to want rain?! 

And the rain started.

Fat rain drops, warm making huge puddles on the ground.  The streets of New York are ravaged, with whole sections dug up and cobbled, more like Naples than London in places - and these chasms fill with water, making crossing the roads an adventure....but we get out there, we do not want anything to stop our  last day in New York.  We get the Subway to West Village, I think my favourite area.  The streets are a little like where we are staying, broad leafy roads with beautiful Brownstone apartments, but the shops are totally Islington. Lots of little delis, lots of very flash clothing stores, the big names and lots of high end independents, who can afford to live there? It's friendly, beautiful....and I want to stay.

We pay a visit to Stonewall and tell Daisy why this place is so important and later Tom tells us a funny story about a gay bar opposite that is the best place in New York for disco music and how he and his friends go dancing there just because the music is so good... an image that is odd and funny! 

We meet Tom for brunch, go to a lovely vegetarian diner, very chic, I have a vegan Philly 'steak' sand which that is gorgeous, Daisy doesn't even touch her fake chicken wrap.... 2 steps forward, 1 step back....hey ho..... It is great to sit and chat to Tom, fun to hear insiders details about the city, it's wealth, who really lives there and we leave him with reluctance as who knows when we will we him again.  

Tom insists that  take a walk on the High Line, an instance that I am really glad we complied with.  It was stunning, a piece of art in its self, winding  across the top of the city, so beautiful, so simple.  It winds around the edges of buildings, allow into you to look down across the streets, across the roof tops, even into the new ultra rich apartments.  The gardens are gentle with surprises such as an amphitheatre to watch the highway from, framing it almost like a movie screen.  The High Line calms us all and all 3 of us just enjoy the moment of being together.

We drop down back into Chelsea, thirsty, in our case and hungry in Daisy's. We amble along, in the warm rain taking turns with the umbrella, find an excellent dough based place for Daisy and the Chelsea hotel- which was mainly under wraps....the area though is fun, not run down exactly, lots of laundry places, presumably because of the high concentration of big apartment  blocks that wouldn't have machines of their own, and tailors shops.  Interesting.  I still prefer West Village.

And it is here we find the nirvana we are looking for. Possibly, no, intact definitely the best vintage shop ever.  The guy is laid back, his shop full of treasure.  Really beautiful pieces, pricey - no, not pricey, well priced.  He knows his stuff.  From the immaculate 50's shirts, to the stunning dresses from 40's - 70's... So much to look at.  Fabrics, prints, textures.  All stunning.  Daisy and Sam try on lots land lots.....bowling shirts, lounge shirts, cheerleader skirts, dresses, mad men style shorts.... Endless...... We could browse for hours, listening to probably the best radio station ever.... 50's- 60's non stop music......Daisy and Sam indulge themselves totally, this is certainly one of the  reasons we are here to find interesting pieces we would not find anywhere else.  I am not happy in my own skin, I find vintage shopping for things for me to wear impossible.  nothing really fits well and I am not wearing the right things to shop in (shorts & sneakers??! Comfortable yes, stylish no) but I still totally appreciate and love looking, advising, searching labels etc

Totally refreshed and feeling good about New York as a shopping destination we have one more stop to make.  St Marks road.  Where Rent was based and now a tiny weeny bit of Camden in New York.  the comic shop proves a big hit, again, New Yorkers proving they are the most friendly people and Sam proving he really is a geek (seriously, it is only when you come to America that you realise the Simpsons is actually a documentary  - I mean do all guys that work in comic shops HAVE to look like Comic Book Guy? A the only hired if they look like that?)

We stop, have a drink (gin and cucumber martini - actually gorgeous) in a nice bar that has a happy hour that basically whets our appetite for more happy hour.  So we jump back on the Subway, head back and take Daisy to Mo's place just on the corner of our street.  The bar with the best music ever.  Stevie Wonder and old school Michael Jackson.  With the coolest barmaid, low bunches, tattooed arms and good sense of humour. With the nicest clientele, the man at the bar buys Sam a drink, which makes his day. With great  margaritas, of which I over indulge as it is happy hour. Hours.

It is in this bar that we also have a real moment, Daisy has enough of us wittering  on and we ask if she would like to go on back to the apartment (it is literally at the end of the street) and she jumps at the chance to walk the streets of New York by herself.  Sam & I watch our fiercely independent, ultra cool daughter walk confidently down the leafy street as if she owns it.  I want to remember that moment forever.

Day 4 Meat, Heat and Art

The day starts slowly, the sun really does seem reluctant to get up, not BAM as it is at home, more tickling the trees, being really gentle on our avenue.  I sleep soundly, helped by the over the counter sleeping tablets somewhat...anything that makes me sleep beyond 6am... Well I get to 6.30, but that's better than 5am...

Tea made by my beautiful husband and some alone time with Rupert Everett (is he the biggest bitch BUT the most beautiful man ever?) and I am in my shorts and ready to run... My calfs are tight, too much walking in flat flat shoes, so it feels good to be in my trainers....I run. Along the avenue, past the bagel shop, past the laundromat, past the blocks of flats, past the NYPD cars.....turn down the block and start to run back.... So easy as it is all on blocks, don't even have to think about the direction of the cars, it is right there on the sign.... It is hard though, this running stuff, I am too fat which really doesn't help my knees and its damned hot.... I also am loving the architecture too much, and nearly trip and fall as I gaze up adoringly at the buildings.

Still, home to cereal that tastes like America and more tea, and leisurely get ourselves together and head out to see art.  Lots of Art today. (Bugger, just lost all my typing) grrrrrr. The heat and noise of central Manhattan is killer and it is a relief to get into the air conditioned calm of MOMA....MOMA - wow! One of the top modern art galleries in the world.... So excited! I obviously think it is terribly important that we start on level 4, but Sam & Daisy see through this and my desire to immediately see the Rothkos is squashed and we start conventionally on Level 5.  And it's good.  I know I am usually full of HUGE splashes of love and adoration, but on this occasion MOMA is just good.  Perhaps we are really spoilt with the Tates and the Pompidou, but MOMA does not blow me away...

 I love seeing the Van Gough is wonderful, to be up close and to see the brush strokes...*sigh* and of course the Cezannes and the Monets are beautiful, but there are notable omissions, especially in their contemporary collection... Nothing too edgy, no Basquiat no Keith Herring... I am not bowled over by their photographic collection, some interesting work of course.....but nothing that really stops me in my tracks as there was at the Pompidou or even in the photographic collection at the V&A. Obviously it is hard to leave the Rothko.... It really is beautiful, and colourful.... But then we have the amazing Seagram paintings at the Tate that are mesmerising

That fill you so totally that time stops..... So was MOMA good, for sure. They have a wonderful sound exhibition that had some pieces in I thought were interesting and my favourite piece was by a Scottish artist which featured an elephant (he filmed an elephant in an art gallery and then it is played back on HUGE HUGE screens) and a darkend room.  Beautiful...

Huger drives us from MOMA and into Central Park... we buy a map and then discover that the map only covers half the park!!! What a fix.  We eat, we walk...damned that park is big, it really is hard to get a fix on the size of it, you walk and walk and walk.... Each area looks so familiar, parts seen in endless films....was that where the filmed Enchanted? Was that the bridge from the Fisher King?  Where did they throw the snowballs in Elf.... Hours of film spotting... We grab a burger and sit watching it all happen...the extra friendly waitress, the man doing tai chi, the extra rich family with teenagers, the strange singing violinist in the tunnels. We stand by the side of the boating lake, with its strange greenish tinge and turtles pop their heads out YUK... Nasty. We all watch the people boating on the lake, watch the man fishing out the coins from the fountain and lay on the grass...take time out...just like everyone else is.  I still can't begin to express just how BIG Central Park is.....and we only say maybe a third of it.  

Refreshed we decide to move on, we walk past Imagine, the Lennon memorial garden and out into Manhattan again....the subway is dusty and REAL hot, by contrast the Trains are cool, tempting just to stay on and keep riding. But we take ourselves out at the Meatpacking District... We wander the streets, a vintage shop in mind, but more just to see what it is like.  As comparisons go it has a Chelsea feel, very VERY upmarket, we wander into Chelsea Market, which is similar to a newly decorated Camden Stables market, very swish, extra large ice creams for me and Daisy...a nice place to wander.  We can see the Highline and decide that perhaps we can wander along that tomorrow...and come back to Chelsea as there seems more we would like to see.  

We are knackered.  Jet lag finally wins over enthusiasm and all a little grumpy and hot, we call it a day and head back to the serenity of our apartment.  Daisy decides to get some space and retreats into her IPad - not surprising, we are all used to having space, for a sociable family, we like our own company, so she decides to stay in.  So Sam & I wander, go down to the bustling Mexican place at the end of the road, all fairy lights, big brash loud....the customers and the food.  Frozen Margaritas and the biggest corn ever....We get some space to chat, muse about the art we have seen, Daisy gets time to chat to her friends...

And Relax.

Achingly hip and achingly full

Today we wanted to get into New York, be part of it, see something other than just the traditional sights. Now I quite like being a tourist, after all it is what we are and the sights are worth seeing, but I wasn't sure I could face the neck ache from staring at very high buildings.  So, after some discussion we decided to hit the vintage shops....well after a VERY lazy morning taking full advantage of NOT getting up and running. After some very careful forward planning from Miss Daisy who plotted all of the interesting suggestions onto our map, we set off to explore Williamsburg.  

The subway took us right to the heart of Hipsville central and we had to take a break before we had even started as we were all that bit too early (hip cool shops do not open until 12pm so it seems.) which was fine, we indulged in bagels, muffins and oh yes, waffles (no, I did not have all of them....) and then we set off.... 

Now Williamsburg is hip, totally hip, beyond hip actually.... A little like Shoreditch, was hip, went achingly hip and now people come because they think it is hip, but the hip is now a little sanitised.  Like  Spitalfields market, nice to look at, no real substance.  The shops were ok, but when did 90's clothing become Vintage?  I must admit I was hoping for stacks of American vintage, but instead we were faced with racks of Topshop imports....never my favourite shop in England....certainly not here.  The warehouses were interesting, for sure, but the clothing? Just didn't do it for me.  But we kept on trying of course, never one to back away from a shopping expedition.  Poor Sam, no bowling shirts, no lounge shirts, not even any 80's American sports wear....Daisy enjoyed it and tried on arms full of clothing throwing herself totally into the experience. Joy.  Best buy of the day was certainly the kneelenght convers that Daisy had been lusting over in England, bought here for $20.... 

Knackered, hot, dusty an in urgent need of a refreshing beer we retreat into a gorgeous Brooklyn bar....refreshing ale indeed...and the bar tender was hot and very friendly (again, everyone is so friendly, the whole of New York it seems just wants to chat, tell us their favourite bits of the city and encourage us to visit!)

Tempting as the food was, we managed to hold off on cramming anything down our throats, knowing we were going to eat that evening, so lubricated, still WoWing over our shopping luck (Daisy) and beer luck (me, mainly) we decide to head for another part of town to see something different.

Park Slopes.... Now the temptation of course, for every area we visit it to determine it according to where we already know.  If where our apartment is is very much like Islington, and Williamsburg is Shoreditch (or Hoxton) the Park Slopes could be maybe Camberwell? Trendy, but with shades of real life.  Real people clearly live there, there are real shops.  Sam & Daisy fast retreat into the comic shop that is just along the street whilst I lust after, and finally get to go into a Drugstore...is there anything bête than a drugstore?  All those potions I do not recognise, all those creams and unguents....sigh... And then we hit what we came for....

The Superhero supply store! A novel idea of a shop that sells everything the budding, or experienced Superhero might need.... Actually it is a project that supports literacy in children from the local area and I had been into the Monster Supply Shop in Hoxton last year,so was familia with the concept... But its fun and is an excellent way to engage with kids!  Who wouldn't love a vat of invisibility, or a fabulous glittery cape? It also allows us to really indulge in our 'OMG - we are in a film' fantasy.

Refreshing showers and changing several times to reflect our new purchases we head out again on the Subway (Sam is now obviously an expert, it has not taken him long to get back into cool city mode)  and jump back to Williamsburg to meet Tom Walker for dinner.  Tom is part of Sam's old neighbourhood kids gang and is the only person that makes Sam look short. Well shorter. We arrange to meet Tom and his partner Paula at Champs, a vegan cafe/diner that I have been reading blogs on for the past couple of years from Bitchcakes, or Sheryl and I had thought it might be interesting. OMG.... It was beyond interesting.... Vegan food, but not as I would have trout of vegan food, not dull, not worthy, not bland... Full on, I wanted everything on th menu interesting.... And that's without it being a really cool diner, with really cool tattooed staff that are extra friendly.... Even Daisy wants to try lots of things, she has finally discovered being a vegetarian!  I have some kind of burger, with EVERYTHING in it, Sam has a Philly cheese steak sandwich.... Daisy has some kind of burger with chunky shops that ar smothered in vegan cheese and bacon... Damned it is just too good. (Also met and talked to a man on the street whose Brooklyn accent was sooooo strong (hate it when people say accents are think, he wasn't thick) he was barely intelligible...wanted to stand and talk to him for ages!)

Champs....what a huge success, Tom & Paula were lovely, think we were quite exuberant, maybe they just thought we were like small circus folk, they did keep giggling....and the food was AMAZING...

A huge thanks to Sheryl for talking about it for years......

Unable to eat ANYTHING else (damned I wanted to so badly, the whoopee pie things looked amazing) we had to just come back and lay down in our immaculate Brownstone apartment... Swearing never to be eat again....aching tummies.... Early to bed.

I think I am in Love.

Day 2..... Walk until your feet bleed...

Sleeping when excited is never an easy thing, add into the adrenaline courses through your body strange sounds, or lack of them, a more comfortable bed that I ever thought possible and a worry that New York is some how going to vanish whilst we sleep and obviously it is never going to be the best night...BUT hey, at least that means I can get up and RUN around... A legitimate reason to bounce down the road!!! I am in my running things almost before I have managed to make tea (well, maybe not... Tea after all is the single most important part of the day) and I am out..... OMG, running around the streets of Brooklyn.... Around Fort Green Park (omgomgomgomgomg) past bagel shops, past Brooklyn hospital, past delis that are just opening, cops standing on street corners with coffee, shiny silver food carts....I become obsessed with seeing, just seeing Brooklyn bridge and follow the cycling signs.... And as I get to the end of one street THERE IT IS...... In the distance to be sure, but WOW, it didn't all vanish over night! (Actually, it wasn't Brooklyn bridge at all, but Manhattan bridge in the distance, but who cares....)

I come back to Sam bouncing more that when I left and carrying soya milk and obviously cinnamony breakfast..... I bounce around the apartment totally unable to stop.....making Sam & Daisy have bagels and coffee so we can OUT THERE ALREADY!!!  

Finally I get them to leave.... Tap tap tapping my foot, sighing a lot and generally acting like a teenager on a first date.... We walk to the subway (not Tube, not metro, the FREAKING SUBWAY) Sam unable to pass anything without taking a picture... I am sure I will pass a corner and see the houses as nothing more than flats from a film set... Obviously spent too much time in Cinecitta.... We descend the Subway and yes, it is like being in The Warriors.... Oh, or The Matrix....well, pretty much any film at all... It is dirtier that I expected, no, we'll, not really I expected it to look like this, but had thought it had been cleaned up, but no, it looks like New York subway from the 80's... Good....

We emerge and then the freaking out really starts, yes there are squeals, shrieks, panting.... And we are just at the park! We wobble down the bridge and there is is... Omg, there is the Statue of Liberty, the is Manhattan (bloody hell that's big) there is Brooklyn bridge, there is Manhattan bridge (where is the Empire State Building? Much discussion, Daisy insisting that the Chrysler building MUST be the Empire State....argument that goes on all day)

We walk, take endless pictures, shriek (of course) take more pictures, Sam wants to do everything, be everywhere all at the same time!  Too many photos to take... Daisy takes a million selfies, as you would when you are gorgeous in NYC for the first time.  It is hard to get my head around, so familiar, and yet totally unknown, obviously so much bigger and yet everything looks exactly as I expected it would... You try to put it into perspective of what you already know, it is not 'alien' as say going to Europe, everything obviously is in English and you recognise everything... Again the feeling that this is all an elaborate film I am part of....

We walk over Brooklyn bridge, keeping clear of the cyclists, stopping to read all of the graffiti and look at the locks Sam and Daisy taking all the pictures possible... It's long... Longer that Waterloo bridge which in comparison you could leap in one giant step (comparisons to London, it's the only reference point we have!) and by the end we have decided we need to refuel... We cross the park at the end of the bridge and thankfully there is a greasy diner waiting for us... We sit at the counter and have a grilled cheese (omg look at the 'eggs over easy' look at the mountain of potato hash, omg is he really grilling the tuna on the hot plate for the tuna melt...) and obviously 'the best coffee in NYC' - it was good but we did feel as if we were in Elf...I want to remember it all... The 'yes boss' the short order cook keeps saying, the roundness of the diner seats, the long complicated order someone comes in to give...

Fortified we march on.... And we walk.... And we walk...... We decide (Daisy decides) that our Main priority of the day is to go see where NY Ink is made... So we get to the Wooster Street Social Club just as it opens...now this IS like being in a film....we take pictures, Daisy hugs the guy (she would know his name..... Obviously I don't.....) I make sure I use the rest room....the guys buy t shirts, Daisy squeals...

We walk on..... We go to see a showroom gallery with Damien Hirsts in.... $20,000 for spots that might have been painted by Rob Lucas... An original Basquait... We walk on.... The graffiti is witty, sharp and obviously worthy of a photograph or two.... We find the Ghostbusters fire station (ok) and I think about the immediacy of The Twin Towers, again something that maybe I have watched too many Blockbuster films, but has always seemed slightly unreal... But here being here I can now see the streets people ran down to get away from the buildings, from the soot etc... We walk on......we stop in record shops in the Village, we giggle over silly names of shops 'Pluck You' the chicken shack....and passing a vegetarian cafe is too good an opportunity to pass up..... So we stop in an impossibly hip cafe in the village and have amazing vegeburgers and Daisy as some kind of fake chicken, fake bacon club sandwich.... So hip, SO GOOD and we listen to all the New Yorkers around us (god, like sometimes I so wish I could play the Cello - now say it with a broad NY accent....damned funny)

In the park we have a Glee moment and then we start on 5th avenue.  I am aware that I will never get the chance to experience  any of this again for the first time, so take  my time... Yes, it's a little dreary, a bit like walking along a longer, wider, more busy Regent street and as Sam says, we wouldn't do that, we would scoot around the back streets.... But it's 5th FREAKING AVENUE... So it's amazing....  We pass the Flat Iron building almost without noticing (well, it's behind you) and walk past an interesting piece of art in the park.... H & M proved too much to walk past and we stop for a mammoth  trying on session and both Daisy & Sam emerge carrying new clothes....

Onwards.... Feet starting to hurt now... The Empire State Building underwhelms me......yea, it's tall.... But it's BUSY, SMELLY and they are doing lots of LOUD works to the outside.... So we rush  on...The New York Public Library is guarded by complacent rather smug lions as well as the grumpiest New Yorker we have met so far.... So we march on, turn a corner and start to follow our noses to to both the Chrysler Building which we can now see gleaming, with eagles....yes EAGLES glaring down.... And ridiculously, incredibly Grand Central station.... Again, eagles, grandeur, pomp..... Wow..... Totally overwhelmed and obviously only able to think about Waltzing around it...I have a little cry....

It's just so totally beautiful.  passionately beautiful.... There is no reason to have chandeliers but there a plenty, certainly no reason to have stars on the ceiling.... But there are...... The ticket desks are so beautifully Art Deco, the clock, the wide wide staircases.... I could almost imagine they used to have red carpet for the evening train to Chicago.  It is romantic, breathtaking and the sunshine and  the chandeliers.....omg. The cop looks effortlessly cool, chewing gum, leaning on the ticket windows and Daisy HAS to have a picture, am sure he is pulling a mean face just to look extra cool....

It feels like we could be there forever.....but it is fast approaching the very limit that our feet and patience can take.... So we drift out and unable to see the Chrysler Building noodle around like tourists.... Until we are approached by a business guys, who not only points us in the right direction (um, just above our heads) but insists on telling us about it and ensures that we go inside, both of which I am grateful for, as again it is stunning......perfectly Art Deco, such clean lines, shining silver and chrome.... *sigh*

We decide to end our adventures for the day, our feet are bleeding, we are hot, dusty & smell BUT we know we have to get a Pawnee Tshirt from the NBC shop in the Rockerfellar centre ('he was really rich wasn't he' states Sam...ummmm)

And we jump on the Tube, no, Subway.....BAM....like we have been here for our whole lives.....get out nada kindly homeless man points us in the right direction (thought New Yorkers we meant to be miserable) and we wander, slowly back to our spotless, but now very Westburied apartment to survey our purchases, try on our tshirts, shower anddddddd relax.....

Popping out briefly to the hippest bar, with the coolest music (Babs? Followed by Barry White...yes please...)  whilst Daisy safely lays on the sofa enjoying her tablet for a while....are we still in a film? YEP......the hippest, most cool film EVER.

American adventures in Brooklyn DAY 1

Waking up in Brooklyn is surprisingly gentle compared to the harsh shrieking and squeaking of the seagulls - here the light gentle flickers through the trees on the avenue and the sunshine starts to glimmer, slowly through the window.  The avenue is quieter, much much quieter that I could have imagined, even at the end of the road, a fairly major thoroughfare into the centre of Brooklyn, there is not the persistent thrum of traffic noise....

So we are here, laying in our amazingly comfortable bed (no springs poking through the mattress, reminds me, must get a new one when we return) in most stunning Brooklyn brownstone apartment, Sam being long (and even then his feet not touching the end of the bed) Daisy still dreaming her adventures the day before I STILL feel like I am in a movie, now totally complete as I sit and write... Oh my,am I turning into Carrie? Oh no hang on, she lives in Manhattan.....

I don't want to drone on about the journey, it is a lie to say it is part of the adventure, it is just a tedious way to get from one side of the world to the other, a necessity only made slightly less painful by a selection of mildly interesting films.  Safe to say, we arrive.  The apartment is not only real, but everything we could ever have hoped for, a real life Brownstone, in a quiet tree lined avenue, close to an area that can only be described as similar to Islington.... Wanda, our host is so warm we don't want her to leave! And we are welcomed with a fridge full of bagels, milk, cream cheese, orange juice and a bathroom jammed with beautiful fluffy white towels (so glad I bought one of the 'dog' towels for mine and Daisy's hair!) and gorgeous smelling products.... Which we indulge in IMMEDIATELY to rid ourselves of the journey....

We venture out, all of us far too excited to stay in, even though it is obviously way past my bed time... It is obviously like being in a film.... Even the two guys in baseball caps smoking weed at the end of the avenue, just chilling, it's like they have been placed there just for us, our own private immersive experience..... New York as brought to you by Central Casting.... We amble and find life, bars spilling out people, sounds, smells obviously, everything smells like food of course.... We persuade  Daisy that the amazing Mexican place that is just bursting with fun (and Margaritas) is where we just have to have our first dinner and surprisingly, she agrees... Yes we ordered too much, that's in the rules right.... Catfish burritos, nachos, quesadillas, fries, and probably the best sweet corn ever.  And frozen margaritas, to die for.  We can relax. We can go back and sleep in our amazingly stylish apartment....