New York, New Yooork, it’s a hell of a town… City? Metropolis?

New York City. It’s definitely “a helluva town”. An eclectic mix of old and new. Of tired European style old stone and new age chrome and glass. Walk down one street and you’ll feel as if you’ve been transported back to the 1920’s then cross over to the next where you’ll see skyscrapers like the Salesforce Tower, and you’ll be reminded that yes, I am in the 21st century. The city is big, it’s bright and it’s beautiful. Not only that, but the city is a hot melting point of different cultures, tastes, styles and opinions.

This is not the first time I have been to New York. However, I will preface that with, the last time I was there, it was for one day only as a stopping point after completing a J1 visa in San Francisco. New York is a massive place. Of course, I would say that. I grew up in a fairly smallish sized village in Ireland just outside County Dublin. After 4 or so months of living and working in San Francisco, I thought was ready for this day in New York.

Now. I wouldn’t say I disliked it then, but what I will say is that I’d never felt so disorientated in my life. Flying straight from SF, and landing in JFK airport with Darragh, we then ambled off and made our way, somehow, to Times Square. Times Square is an assault on all of the senses. Eyes catching the colours of the bright lights, nose catching the scents of street food vendors, being bumped by other eager tourists trying to get their bit of Times Square, and ears catching the busy busy New York street sounds all at once. I didn’t know where to look. Thinking back on it now, I don’t even know how we managed to navigate our way around, if I was exhausted, then surely he was to.

We walked up and down, feasting our eyes on all of the sites, most of which I can’t remember. The only thing I remember in total clarity was Times Square and Broadway. At that stage we were merely ghosts transiting through on our way home just taking a quick peak around. Food wise, we didn’t even make an effort diving straight for an Olive Garden, not even bothering to try out any of the different local delights.

Now let’s talk about New York take two.

The Journey

I left Ireland early morning Wednesday, not really knowing if I’d be flying or not. Prior to my flight I had received weather warnings and potential flight disruption notifications from Delta. I left anyway. The line to check in was long and irritating. 1 long check in line, a rushed through security screening, a quick stop in Parfois and a Butler’s coffee later, I was settled and ready to wait.

I’m not a nervous flyer. Well. Not really. Take offs though they just get me. I know that once we’re up in the air, we’re (practically) invincible. But take-offs though? No. Paradoxical as this may sound, I love to fly. Flying, for me, is a major part of the travel experience itself, however at that point it’d been a good 8 months since I had taken a long-haul flight. I’ve been on much shorter journeys during that time period, but I never count those. I liken those experiences to essentially getting a bus from A to Z. You’re barely up in the air before they drag you back down to the ground (cough Ryanair cough). Boarding call.

I watched the business class passengers go. The families go. The different relevant zones. And then they called zone 3. I started to sweat. Like I said, I’m not a nervous flyer, I swear it, but it had been a long time and I was slightly apprehensive. Not only was it my first long haul flight in a long time, it was also my first long haul flight by myself in… possibly about 4 years? As far as I could remember, I’ve always travelled with someone, whether the full way or part way. Though this adventure in New York was done with a good friend of mine, our flight schedules were a little different. De-iced wings, a lovely Italian woman as my seat mate and Agust D’s “Give it to me” on full blast as we barreled down the runway and we were airborne. My nerves calmed, my shoulders relaxed, and I was ready.

I’m not a nervous flyer. I swear.

The Metropolis

I knew from previous experience that once you leave the vicinity of JFK airport proper, you’re not welcomed with the most… appealing of sights. Despite its reputation as an international hub of travel and being the gateway to the United States, JFK airport is not in the bustling center of Manhattan. It’s located in Queens, and the journey from Queens to Bushwick brought us through areas that were sleepy looking, a little dilapidated and that just had a general sense of tiredness associated with them. Coming from a country that regularly hosts tidy towns competitions, in even its largest cities, of course myself and Rachel would be concerned about the quantity of litter that graced the many street corners and roads. We arrived to Bushwick in good time. One of the recently gentrified locations in Brooklyn, Bushwick hosted a kaleidoscope of new trendy bars, quaint non-chain coffee shops and a fresh young population. Our home for the next while was an absolute dream. Modern, with games, a free bottle of wine, snacks, a full kitchen and breakfast bar and two large double bedrooms.

We dropped our belongings and we were off. Luckily, Rachel had the same lust to explore as I did. The need to walk around and take in everything, even while snow hit and blurred our vision at some stages. We stopped only to eat, possibly the most amazing Indian cuisine I’ve had and then continued on to keep looking. By the end of day 1 we dragged ourselves back to our apartment exhausted, cold but oh so alive. Later, Tom would join us. A night of wine, Netflix and general catch up ensued. It was both amazing and heartbreaking. Amazing because it was nice to see one of my absolute closest friends again. Heartbreaking because I knew that I probably wouldn’t be seeing him again this year after this. While I only met him in my 1st year of college, we became close incredibly quickly. Apart from a few other people, he’s someone that I have grown and matured with. He, for a long time was one of the main constants in my life, and when he left, it was one of the few times I’ll confess to crying in my adult life.

Tom was not the only friend that was seen during this trip. I met up with an old work colleague, Becky, and saw some old faces too. Seeing Trevor and LB was lovely. I hadn’t seen them since leaving San Francisco, and though we kept in touch via social media and failed pen pal attempts (in which real letters were sent to real physical addresses), it was not the same as actually seeing them face to face. I spent a good amount of time being shown around by Trevor, seeing and doing things I had not necessarily planned for, like seeing a Broadway show, and drinking at a secretive speakeasy bar, but nonetheless enjoyed immensely.

The rest of the trip carried on in much of the same manner. Rachel and I would walk, see, eat and walk some more. We did all of the experiences and saw all of the sights that we could think of such as walking the Brooklyn Bridge, going to the Guggenheim Museum, pretending to catch a train at Grand Central Station and much more. Tom would join us as often as he could and would show us some of New York’s other most famous and meaningful sights such as the amazing view of the New York skyline from the top of the Rockefeller Centre and the beautiful and heartbreaking 9/11 Memorial. Trevor also slipped in and out taking us to cool bars, museums and other sites. For my birthday (because yes, it was a birthday trip. I treat myself with a trip every year for the occasion) I had brunch in what is possibly the best Korean restaurant I’ve gone to; BCD Tofu House. I enjoyed a delicious extra spicy soondubu kimchi jjigae (soft tofu kimchi stew) that was served with rice and full banchan. I would later go back here with Tom, as he loved Korean cuisine almost as much as I did. I did some solo exploring and activities that day also mainly because I enjoy it and secondly it gave me a chance to just ponder on my current life, where I am and where I would like to be in the future. Of course, in the evening I met up with the others for dinner in Tao (which is an amazing dining experience) and for some bar hopping New York style.

Last Thoughts

By the end of the trip, I was ready to head home and prepare for my next adventure. I loved New York and everything about it. One thing I will say though is that New York is a cold cold place in March. A very cold place. I typically don’t make an effort to travel to cold locations because I crave the heat. I love and enjoy it. I’m in my element when the sun is hot and high above me, presenting me with its rays… It must be the African blood in me. I live in a place that the temperature is mostly mild at best, and absolutely freezing at worst. I generally have no desire to really travel to places that don’t afford some sort of higher temperature differential, but New York was different. Though I was woefully unprepared for the cold (I travelled with two light jackets, no hat, no gloves but thankfully a large scarf, which was actually for the plane), I still enjoyed it anyway. There was a certain charm about the streets when there was snowfall, and in walking around central park when the trees were still gathering their energy to present themselves for spring and summer.

There’s something about the air in New York, I’m not sure how to describe it? Exhausted excitement maybe? It’s in the air as you walk around. With your left shoulder you’ll bump into a harried and rushed local and with your right an eager, starry eyed tourist. It’s a city where both the young and old hustle hard and clamor for their place amongst the stars. A city where, no matter your age, race or creed you still have a chance to make it big. It shows in the multiple indie/hipster startups nestled between massive established corporate towers. The city itself feels like a big engine. A little old and creaky in some places, which shows in the constant upgrading of the subway system, and shiny and well-oiled in others such as the city’s financial district.

I will definitely return to New York, perhaps at a time where the weather is warmer. New York, New York. It most certainly was… a helluva town.