OH HEY POPPETS. How the heck are ya? I feel like I’ve been away from my little arm chair in this corner of the internet for ages. How was your Easter weekend huh? I hope it involved a hefty amount of chocolate, the new series of Doctor Who, more chocolate, and HOLY SHIT THE BROADCHURCH FINALE.
So, yes, New York. IT’S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU.
It really has. For those 9 years since I last said goodbye, and particularly in the 9 months since we decided to book flights, the concrete jungle where dreams are made of has been waiting to engulf me once again in its glittering arms.
And for a beautiful seven days, those streets made me feel brand new and those big lights inspired me (lol I’ll stop with the song lyrics now…).
I’m currently sat on the sofa wearing my NYC sweatshirt, drinking out my new Bubby’s mug, listening to Empire State of Mind and flicking through my photos of Brooklyn Bridge. No YOU’RE in denial.
I’m not going to lie, I’m writing this as a bereft woman. It’s full on in-mourning, wearing-black widow shiz. I miss New York so much it aches. I miss pancakes and crispy bacon for breakfast, I miss the hum of the city at night and the burning brightness of Times Square. I miss spending every single minute with G and being surrounded by skyscrapers all the damn time. I miss the glorious sunshine and those comforting New York accents.
Although I don’t miss the pain in my feet. 30,000 steps a day starts to take its toll by day 7, I will admit.
The week before last, G and I woke to a painfully early alarm clock and dragged ourselves and our suitcases onto a dreary Thameslink train to Gatwick airport for a flight to New York via Dublin.
Before you look at me like girl why you adding extra time to your journey, it was A LOT cheaper to fly via Dublin. And you get to enjoy the added perk of clearing US immigration BEFORE you get on the plane. So when you get to JFK, you can just breeze out of the airport like you’re a genuine New Yorker. Dreamy.
Although, ngl, it didn’t feel so dreamy two flights later when I emerged off the plane looking and smelling like I’d slept in a bin. Does anyone else get this when flying or am I just allergic to cabin pressure or summin’?
That sparkly skyline view from the taxi gave me all the butterflies though ❤. It was enough to carry me through travel sickness-related nausea and into the hotel where I could shower and collapse from sheer exhaustion.
Only to find myself wide awake at 5:45am NYC time cos jetlag; what a pal.
I’ve got a few New York-related posts lined up so I won’t give you a detailed itinerary of each day but let’s just say it involved numerous pancakes and burgers.
And racoons. Seriously, a whole family of them running around on the rocks in Central Park. Five points to whoever guesses which Friends quote immediately came to my mind.
And sunshine. I said I wanted blue skies and New York gave me 25 degrees. Cos she’s a babe.
And being constantly surprised, in that oh-so-British way, when strangers suddenly started talking to us. I’m a northern gal at heart so am more adjusted to convos with strangers than, say, your average Londoner but seriously, I spoke to more strangers in that one week in New York than I’ve probs done in the year we’ve lived in St Albans. There was the couple from Washington at the table next to us in a restaurant who struck up a conversation about cheesecake and their nervousness about travelling to Europe. There was the businessman in the lift who started asking us about London. There was the woman who asked us if we needed help when we were looking at a map by the subway. There was the concierge in Bloomingdales who chatted to us super fast for a good ten minutes, and apologised for the ‘whole Trump thing’. There was the policeman who directed us to the subway we were stood right next to with a good-natured smile. There was the woman who worked in the hotel who went out of her way to help us wrap up the drawings we were trying to get back home without creasing.
You get the gist; New Yorkers are friendly folk. And it made me friendlier. I noticed I was thanking people for the smallest of things, smiling at people a lot more than usual and it made me a lot more chipper and patient.
Our days were crazy busy. I’ve been looking back at the photos today and kept thinking I was wearing the same outfit over more than one day cos so many different places. But nah uh, your gal was just on a mission to fit everything in.
Most days we were out early, getting slightly later as the week went on and our body clocks shifted, either grabbing breakfast to go from the hotel or going for sexy pancakes as big as my head. Those pancakes though.
We had a few things booked in for a certain time, but mostly we planned as we went along. Sometimes we were classic tourists; going up the Rockefeller centre or taking a boat trip round the Statue of Liberty. Other times, we sat munching on a ShakeShack burger people watching or wandered down the High Line, just soaking in the city hum.
We’d usually retreat back to the hotel around 5ish, to rest our bruised feet and use the wifi for major Instagram spam before heading back out for the evening. We went to some seriously dreamy restaurants but Jack’s Wife Freda and Bubby’s were like a party in my mouth. Bubby’s peanut butter pie and I seriously needed to get a room.
When jetlag stopped being a whiny bitch, we had energy for drinks after dinner (as opposed to being asleep by 10 like the hardcore party gal that I am). One night, we went to a rooftop bar in the shadow of the Empire State building and drank cocktails amongst high flying New Yorkers. Another night we ended up in Rice to Riches and I bought a 2-3 person portion of rice pudding for myself so swings and roundabouts.
I loved every moment. I love being sat on Umpire Rock in Central Park and feeling like you’re somewhere magic. I love hopping on the subway and wondering what’s going to greet your eyes when you emerge the other end. I love coming across random street markets that mean we can walk in the middle of the closed road for four blocks. I love buying sweatshirts from tacky souvenir shops and I love eating bagels that taste like doughy perfection. I love the view from the Empire State Building at night time more than I can describe and love the fact that there’s yellow cars and lights flippin’ everywhere. I love walking through Times Square even if it is ridiculous and I love the steam vents and the fact that you have to crane your head back as far as possible to see the top of the buildings surrounding you.
I loved the confidence of the city. The unashamed, unapologetic THIS IS ME vibe. It was G who put it into words for me when he said that it was a city so much more comfortable in its own skin, that London felt awkward in comparison; and I wondered if that’s what draws me to New York like no other place. That confidence makes you confident; you can have that unashamed, unapologetic, THIS IS ME vibe as well and it feels pretty bloody marvellous. You can be whoever you want, 100%, right-down-to-the-core you and the city will accept you as you are, unjudging.
And that creates infinite amounts of hope and possibility; it’s the city of dreams because it really does feel like anything can happen.
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