New York

Preface: Delayed, I know. But this post is more for me, and for the reflection some distant day sitting with the grandkids…

Monday morning, 6am , and the first wrestling match for the day with the girl checking Jet Blue re my oversized 80pound bike bag. I more than double the cost of my ticket. But this to get to New York City – for three days of playtime. Three days at full tilt.

(Missioning to Reed’s apartment – passer’s by suggested a cab. We wanted the atmosphere instead)

My sister and I have little more than two email exchanges, one directing to the Subway Station of W4. No phone number, no address, no  acquintance. The bag makes quite the scene – being willed up flight of grubby stairs to the hussle above. We’re in Soho. And now we’re (my sister and I) at a loss. I call, and introduce myself to Reed, who says he’s on his way back, from the Hamptons, which to me could be the top of Manhatten, but luckily Nici knows it’s a.k.a. the lifestyles and the rich and famous. The first clue to a few days that would rock our normal world.

Reed is delayed. Confessing later he left the vintage beast idling outside the courthouse till it blew a gasket. This in support of a friend arrested for naked US flag parading with alcohol in public space on Independence Day… Nothing out the ordinary.

The apartment is his signature work, a real life portfolio. Its unlike anything I’ve seen, and stylish space uitlisation within eco friendly objectives. On the eco side, we set course through tight alleys and cobbled streets to the Sky Line, a restored rail line, no a park/garden/tourist attraction.  Next was a run down the west side, to a setting sun and a Statue of Liberty backdrop. It’s the most people I’ve ever run between. Like being in a nightclub or something. In Truckee I’ve been doing runs where I don’t see a soul other than Dan, me, myself and I.    Some change.

(Running past the financial district – some change from Truckee)
Sushi dinner with entertainment from the rich girls who live in a world I couldn’t imagine nor understand. But seemed fitting to the experience of this bubble in orbit far far from my own. And that was day one as the yellow NYC cab dropped us after driving through Times Square – night light eye candy.

Nici and I work early and went back to The Grey Dog, a local Reed favourite we’d already been to twice for Breakfast. Such a great mix of Java Café, Basic Bistro, Wild Cherries, Vudu Café and Cross Roads – some of the more unique coffee shops I’ve been to. (In order: Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch, Truckee, Queenstown and Richmond.)

(The Grey Dog – Brilliant ambience each time)
The reconstruction project at Ground Zero was up next. It hard to appreciate how dense the buildings are in lower Manhattan. It would have been an intimate experience tragedy for all on 9/11. From there we criss crossed to China Town and Little Italy.

Even the products for sale in China Town are branded in Chinese and the smell is very much imported from China… The street signs are in Chinese and in all it was a crazy hub seemingly very out of place. A few subways up to the East side over lunch for a swim with Reed, before a memorable run round Central Park. How amazing having so much trail and space surrounded by 50 story buildings.

(Stollerville – Reed had mentioned uptown was more a family vibe than arty Soho)

A quick smoothie at Equinox; the best I’ve ever had; a glance at the retina recognition device used to check in Madonna and the likes, and onward to the most insane Whole Foods I’ve in at the Time Warner Building basement. A few Indian flavours from the Deli and back out to Central Park for a picnic. 5 floors of The Design and Innovation museum, and time to cram in alongside the working class headed home while reading the board on the sub’s side wall: The pole you’re holding has a gazillion germs on.

The tidy up (tried to at least) and back to Central Park for the Soho Philarmonic Orchestra performance at the Great Lawn. 30 000 others planned the same Tuesday night… We couldn’t not hear any of the music, but could feel the atmosphere. And them fireworks were neat. A few drinks at a local watering hole, dinner at 12pm, and then down to The Jane Hotel.

(Arriving, late of course, for the philharmonic orchestra show on the Great Lawn)
The Jane had come up in conversation as Reed’s personal New York best, and didn’t disappoint. Not even with its very French Bastile Day celebrations. I loved it. The best night club I’ve been into. Small, super classy and artsy, jammin tunes in Bose quality surround sound, and furniture from a 1800′s villa. Only the R130 for a small drink was a little on the downside list…

I don’t walk many 15km  (guestimate) days, nor party till 4am. So Wednesday was a little more gingerly out the starting blocks. But when we did it was the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the first stop. Such spellbounding rooms of expressions stretching across the ages, uniting man and time. Very interesting.

(Art at the Metropolitan Museum – Van Gogh)
I had only two things I really wanted to do in New York: Buy a set of Skull Candy headphones; and catch up with Steve Madden – a friend I’d met during the Touchline gig as he was from Rodale head quarters. We’d arranged to meet at 10:30am on Tuesday. I remembered in the art museum on Wednesday. As one does. Ai. So, figured it was best to apologise in person and so set out by bus and foot to find Rodale in 3rd Avenue.  An office a beat up back pack caring tourist stood out in like a shy boy on  a first blind date. Alas. I’ll make it up to Steve at some stage.

Cruised through Grand Central Station thereafter, with flashes of movie scenes in my minds eye. Onward to the Manhatten Libriary and onto Bryant Park for a lunch/picnic and a siesta.

(Grand Central)

A few freakish moments of people watching on Times Square with all its lights and attention demanding impressions. And we were impressionable. My sadness was at the Virgin Records SuperStore that was closed. Gone under. I had read Branson’s autobiography a few months earlier and was interested in seeing it. Alas. A sign of the changing times.

Subbed back to Soho. And out to a fine fine pre-drink of Kiwi Sauv Blanc and then a magic dinner at one of Reed’s favourites. It did not disappoint. I am certain I’ll visit Reed a few more times, and that night ended the first chapter of a fun book we’ll write together. I’ve sent Reed a programme for a mayden Xterra…

(The final dinner)
Thursday started the mayhem homeward. And I love home.