After being a nerd, it was time to be a tourist. Someone recommended to me the New York City Pass. For a reduced rate, this bumper book of tickets got me into all the big hitters. Still feeling the many vodkas from last night, Monday was a late start which worked in my favour as it was designated as ‘Lower Manhattan’ day. I was going to see the New York Stock Exchange, South Street Seaport and St Paul’s Chapel. Obviously via nerdy stuff like Hook & Ladder 8, the Ghostbuster’s headquarters, and the exterior shot of Richard Castle’s loft. Yes, I am that girl that tweeted Nathan Fillion and got pretty burned.
After having Broadway, the Empire State Building and Grand Central Station on my door step, I thought Manhattan was smaller than I thought, like with Amsterdam, it was walkable. I wouldn’t have to learn the public transport routes, I’d be fine! Wrong. I’d barely started the 9/11 Memorial Museum when my feet had started to hurt. When I started the decent to Ground Zero I’d soon forgotten about my feet.
For me, the terrorist attacks on September 11 was ‘over there’, it barely affected me. I’m not a monster; I was saddened, appalled and mourned the mass loss of lives that dreadful day but I don’t think I cried. The Memorial Museum was a punch in the gut. Seeing names on the fountains and reading a woman’s name and ‘her unborn child’, made it all, for lack of a better word, real.
In the museum itself I saw a Sainsbury’s loyalty card and a ten pound note belonging to a British business man. I saw a fire engine cut in half from the collapsing building. I saw the only pane of glass that didn’t break. I heard phone calls from people in the building, on the plane, who witnessed it. It wasn’t a thing ‘over there’ any more. I was constantly on the verge of tears, occasionally breaking when it all got too much. It was the first time in New York I’d felt alone. I needed a hug.
Tuesday was museum day. Two featured with the City Pass were American Museum of Natural History and The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I am a fan of museum so was constantly comparing these two to the London equivalents. Or maybe the movie Night at the Museum gave me unrealistic expectation because I didn’t come across the giant stone heads, a hall of miniatures or a Capuchin monkey. That might be my fault, I was in a rush.
After feeling a little disappointed in the American Museum of Natural History, I walked across Central Park with a hotdog to go to The Met. It was pleasure to get lost in Central Park, I managed to stumble across the Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland statue which wasn’t part of the plan. Again, I meandered around The Met thinking about the British Museum, both a collection of art and artefacts from around the world spanning centuries. I got to thinking about stuff. I’ll elaborate. That there’s enough stuff from ancient Greece for a modest collection here and London, and probably hundreds of other locations. I also thought about their value or if they are invaluable. If they knew back then, how important it would be to people in 2015. I got rather deep. Then I got tipsy at a singing restaurant called Ellen’s Stardust Diner and saw the Aladdin musical!