NYC baby!

Authoring a totally unique account of New York is akin to finding a pot of gold at the the end of the proverbial rainbow: it’s a thrilling prospect, full of creative potential, but, entirely implausible. Nevertheless, I’m going to give it my best shot. Expect accounts of Brooklyn’s most bearded neighbourhoods, Broadway’s greatest show and an alright pizza.

Our Air BnB

I’ll start with Brooklyn, as most twenty-somethings would. When I was here six years ago, Williamsburg was an aspiring neighbourhood, speckled with thrift stores, grocery shops and the random coffee house. Now it plays host to micro-breweries, vintage emporiums and quirky boutiques. We spent a few days wandering the streets, admiring the graffiti and chatting to inked up bohemians. A lovely day out if you ask me.

As you can probably deduce from former posts, I’m a strong advocate of street art. I love it. If an idea is executed well, it can make an artistic destination out of anywhere, just as it has done to the streets surrounding Morgan Avenue. A thick veil of spray paint now hides its pre-hipster history, as light hearted cartoons and poignant political pieces adorn the sides of buildings. The art is spread over several blocks, and whilst it's good, it's doesn't quite rival Hoisier Lane in Melbourne, nevertheless, it's a great way to spend an afternoon.

Markets are a guilty pleasure of mine; I’ll happily fritter away whole days in them, touching everything, buying nothing, but leaving totally fulfilled. For me, it isn’t the acquisition of a new item that thrills me, but the atmosphere. With so many talented and passionate artisans it’s hard not to feel inspired. I often leave them feeling like I need to enrol in a fashion course, or undertake a cooking class, but until that happens, I’ll just enjoy the fruits of other people’s labour.

Two great places to do such a thing, are Brooklyn Flea + Winter Market in Bushwick and Artists and Fleas in Williamsburg. The first surprised us with a huge food court and adjoining tasting room which was just as tantalising to the eyes as it was to the nose and taste buds. Thankfully, the chefs appeased us with generous samples of beer soaked chorizo and authentic Mexican salsa among other things - there’s nothing like a chic Brooklyn smorgasbord. From there we followed the flow of people into a larger room full of eclectic treasures; everything from wooden plaques to beautifully sculpted iron lamps and rails upon rails of vintage clothing. Exploring markets whilst living in a van is most definitely an exercise in self-control.

The second market was a much smaller affair, but what this place lacked in size it most certainly made up for in charisma. They were spreading festive cheer with complimentary glasses of champagne, sugary treats and a live band belting out great music. The choral exchange of seasonal greetings and sea of smiles literally warmed my heart as I admired all the hand-crafted goodies on offer. One in particular, a necklace that read ‘Minx’, became mine when Lucan handed it to me on my birthday - his ‘trip to the toilet’ had in fact been a decoy, sneaky boy!

But Brooklyn is more than just a canvas and market stands, it’s a conglomerate of chic eateries, making it a treasure hunt at best and a labyrinth at worst - depending on hunger levels and proficiency on an iPhone. Unfortunately Lucan and I exited Morgan Station completely ravenous and without a data plan, leaving us at the mercy of a stranger and his palate. Luckily, we were a block away from Roberta’s: ‘a neighbourhood institution’, although we’re perplexed as to why. Our first pizza was okay, but nothing special. The second was a complete flop - in fact, had Kipper (the family dog) been there I might have been temped to slip him a couple of slices.

To add insult to injury, our plans to visit Paulie Gees, the pizzeria, fell through, thankfully our rendezvous with Lauren, didn’t. Having only met briefly on a Goan beach three years earlier, it felt so surreal to have our reunion in New York City, in the middle of December. With her cute red hat and smile so wide she wasn’t difficult to spot. Sadly we only got to chat for half an hour before she had to rush off, but it was long enough to exchange promises to meet up again soon. And I sincerely hope we do, just as I hope to be reunited with all the other wonderful people that I have met since leaving home.

Now, before I tease you with tales of a birthday spent in New York City, I would like to say a massive thank you to the beautiful boy that made it happen. After 365 days of ‘gentle’ coercion, I managed to convert a former birthday denier into a fully fledged party partner. Lucan Seabrook, you are now well and truly forgiven for "ignoring" my twenty-forth. The celebrations started with a lovely home-cooked breakfast, and a wonderful two hour stroll through Central Park. After passing the famed bridge and beautiful ice skating rink, we joined a group of skaters who were dancing to a renegade DJ playing house music to the birds and the trees. This whole scene seemed so surreal that I couldn’t help but squeal with delight.

En route to Times Square we stopped off for a spot of dinner, which was a delicious Tibbits style affair. It took considerably more time to chose our medley than it did to eat it, but we both left well and truly sated - I didn’t even have space for ice cream - on my birthday! Instead, pudding came in the form of tickets to a Broadway show, and honestly, I couldn’t imagine anything sweeter. For three hours the cast of Motown serenaded us with a selection of my all-time favourite songs, which had me dancing in my seat and singing out loud. It really is a fantastic show, and as soon as it starts its UK tour I’m booking tickets for my mum, and I advise you to do the same.

On a more sombre note, we made a visit to the Freedom Tower and museum. Six years ago, a friend and I were passing through lower Manhattan when we stumbled across the twin towers excavation site. It hadn’t been our intention to visit at night, but aimless wandering led us right there. Huge flood-lamps cast a garish white light over a wound that seemed impossible to suture. And yet, now, in it’s place stands a beautiful and compassionate memorial site. Two 30ft waterfalls stand in the footprints of the buildings, with the name of all the victims inscribed on the sides. Surrounding them are trees, including one that was still standing when the twin towers weren’t. If you choose to visit this area, which I strongly encourage you to do, then please approach from the Rector Street station, since it awards you a fantastic vantage of the Freedom Tower.

I couldn’t end this post without mentioning Dyker Heights. Honestly, if you’re in south Brooklyn towards the end of December this is NOT to be missed. It's New York City’s answer to a time machine, converting grinchy adults into excitable children, sparkly block by sparkly block. I’ll let the photos do the talking.

The race to be the most avant-garde city in America ensures that there’s always something special going on in New York City; the only problem, is that unless you’re reading the right blog, or chatting to the right beard, you’ll never know about it. This is a city of secrets, so listen hard and you’ll be richly rewarded.

Grand Central Station

Coney Island

Empire State Building

Fifth Avenue windows