I have been home now a month and a half. It does not seem that long and yet New York feels like a decade ago, like a two week vacation long gone. I have to remind myself that this was no two week vacation. I lived New York. I loved New York. My leaving may have been an inevitable, but I never want her to forget how much I loved her.
A period of time in my life that I will treasure always and always write about to never let myself forget. Who could forget New York? It seems crazy right! But I am not talking about New York, the place; the tall tall buildings, the wide roads packed with tourists, the yellow cabs buzzing around the city. No I am talking about MY New York, what she did for me, how she made me feel. How from the moment we were reintroduced that September morning I knew I would never feel alone while I was with her. And that is true. Through all the ups and downs of my time there, through the great work nightmare to the man debate and all the little dramas in between New York was constant. Through a time in my life, and possibly the first time in my life when I just wanted to be left the fuck alone, New York lay her palm on my back, giving me my space to go forward but letting me know that she was always there if I needed her to fall back on. I guess at the same time Israel was doing the same thing.
So when the time came to make the decision to stay or go it was not easy. Should I stay in a job that brought me to tears every day, for the sake of New York? Should I carry on going further into debt because I did not want to let her go? And what about the benefits of going back to Israel? It had been a long cold winter in New York and I could definitely do with some thawing out. I wrote lists. I wrote journals. I talked it through with everyone. I was trying to find a way to stay, a reason to stay, a way to stay, but at some point I had to give her one last hug goodbye and jump back into the open arms of Israel.
I miss her. There is a part of me that wonders what is New York doing now? She's probably dressed up fabulous and running all over town ending the night a hot mess in a diner. I smile when I think about her, knowing that her hand will still be resting in the curve of my back if I ever need to fall back.
London, Tel Aviv, London, New York… And so now my adventure takes a new twist and I am finding myself sipping Mocca Latte in terminal 5, staring out at the British Airways planes lined in a row and smiling at the irony of the situation that an English Girl who had just 5 years before moved to Israel, has now found herself back in London in transit to New York for the next leg of her adventure.
How many legs does this adventure have? I do not know and I have stopped asking now. The point is that it keeps on running.
I think it is fair to say that the last year saw my life as I knew it flip upside down and while I could have carried on being the same, living the same life as before I took a long hard look at what was my adventure so far, and thanks to this blog I had record proof of my adventure so far, and so far my adventure was rather unadventurous… and downright repetitive. I jumped from year to year and found that the same stories were repeated year in year out and ultimately I needed a change. Ultimately I need a change.
This is not to say I am done with Israel. I have mixed feelings about this statement. I have mixed feelings when people say, “Oh no! You can’t leave Israel! How sad!” I guess I would have said the same thing if the person was not me. So I say it again. I am not done with Israel. But after 5 years living in this bash my head against the wall one day and jump up and down with gratitude the next day country, I feel I am entitled to a break, or as we would say in Israelהפםקת נפש or a break for the soul. And for those of you have stuck with the sad and woeful blog over the last few months you will agree that the soul of this blog needs a break indeed.
Now we can enter into a whole debate about whether I have allowed myself to be defeated by Israel and the harsh way she treats her new immigrants by separating the fair-weather friends from the dedicated settlers. We can have a discussion for hours and split hairs over whether I made the move to Israel for the right reasons or am leaving for better ones. We can talk for hours about the ins and outs and whys and who is to blame, but seriously who gives a shit and who really takes life that seriously. Basically it breaks down to the following; I need a change, my job offered me the chance to move to New York, I decided it was an opportunity I could not say no to, So for the next six months I am giving New York all that I got and will see if she is a keeper or not.
As I said, I am not done with Israel. I will never be done with Israel. My family and my dearest friends are in Israel and if that is not reason enough I will stand proudly in the middle of Heathrow airport and shout rather un-politically correctly that Israel is my homeland and I will never be done with her! However, that does not mean I have to be stuck to her for the rest of my life; the equivalent of living at home with the parents forever (so says a 30 year old who until this morning was living at home with her parents). No it is time this Israelite flew the nest and spread her wings in another land. I will still have sweet dreams of a land flowing with milk and honey, but for now I will be dancing in streets paved with gold (or cheese depending on how you look at it).
So here I am in Heathrow again only this time I am heading West and high off my ass on a concoction of cold and flu remedies that ultimately will make no difference at all to the state of my mucus filled head, only to give an illusion to the swine flu scared passengers around me that I at least making an effort to get better. I am seriously looking forward to knocking back a few whiskeys on the plane and passing out…. Just wonder if I am sick enough to beg an upgrade to class with the beds, or if I am too sick that they may refuse me entry into the USA until I have completed quarantine. Cats and dogs must have 6 months quarantine before being allowed into a country… imagine if they imposed the same with humans. I could spend the 6 months I am supposed to be in New York in quarantine instead…
Ok I am going to take America English chocolates so they let me in!
By the way, England is still grey, Terminal 5 is not all that (the Prêt a Manger has only 5 sandwich choices) and I would like someone to explain the logic to me of why security in this country makes people throw away their water bottles when they are clearly swigging from it so it cannot be anything other than water… oh and yet at the same time recommending their passengers to keep themselves hydrated on the flight. One thing the world could learn from Israeli security… yes we do not have to take off our shoes to ensure that there are no terrorists on our flights!
By the weekend we were so at home in New York and had done pretty much all the shopping we had planned to do. We were looking forward to a relaxing weekend with friends. First we began with Friday night dinner on the Upper West side. We arrived early to help. It’s also a ploy of mine when I know I am going to a dinner where I know only the hostess so that it gives me a chance to spend time with her first and also to make myself at home enough that when the other guests arrive I look like part of the furniture. I hate awkward entrances.
I have to admit that once I knew how many people were going to be attending the soirée I gulped with nervousness, but once we sat among the other guest and were immediately pulled into a heated discussion about how to stop terrorists from being terrorists, we immediately relaxed and began to enjoy ourselves. After 3 courses of truly delicious food, and enough red wine that I was beginning to feel sleepy we decided say our thank yous and goodbyes and make a speedy exit before the Charadi guys started on their 3rd Devar Torah.
The next day we met up for brunch with a friend and her husband in the EastVillage. Now this was my kind of meal. A meal with eggs, amazing company and three free alcoholic drinks! Now thinking about it, after not seeing my friend for three years, a drunken brunch was probably the best way to reconnect. We sat chatting like we had all known each other forever and when I told her how we had lined up at Magnolia the day before she insisted that we go across the road to her favourite bakery so she could show me where I went wrong. We were really in no rush though and it took the waitress giving us free coupons to “continue our conversation at the bar” before we took the hint and decided to stumble out of the restaurant and into the bakery across the road. The place was called Sweet Sugar Sunshine and when I tell you that it pooped on Magnolia, I mean that it totally ripped it apart, kicked it to the ground, stomped on its face and pooped on it… who would have thought cupcakes could turn so nasty. All I am saying is if you every happen to be on the corner of Rivington and Essex then you should go and get the Spicy Pumpkin cupcake… that’s all I have to say.
After walking around the area, checking out the local stores and working off some of the brunch we had had, we decided to head back to the hotel to hang out in more comfortable surroundings. We had plans for the night and our friends just wanted to come check out the place… that was at around 3pm. Over 6 hours later we were all still hanging out at the hotel… starving!
A dinner of burgers quelled our hunger and we spent the rest of the evening chatting life and discussing our plans for Maine and Boston. We would be sad to leave New York, but our day had led to an invite for next weekend in Brooklyn and we were so looking forward to another perfect week ahead.
Our time in New York meandered on in a haze of hot and cold days where we left the hotel in the morning and kept walking until our return at night. We spent our days exploring the city, shopping, taking long lunches, sitting in parks, drinking in New York and then swallowing it whole at night. And just when we felt we had discovered everything there was to see in one area we were exploring we took a turn north and realized how much more there was to see.
At times I wished that we had not made plans to travel further up North at the end of the week to New England, but on the other hand I was looking forward to seeing so much more of the country. At the beginning I chose to soak everything in. We took a tour bus around the city and firmly decided that we would never be so stupid again. We headed towards the Statue of Liberty and instead of standing in line for 3 hours with the rest of the tourist trailers we decided to hop on the Staten Island ferry and take a free trip across the water to see the view of Manhattan in all her glory. We waved to Miss Liberty and contemplated what it would be like to ride the ferry every day to work.
On our way back we took a walk around Wall Street and took a moment by Ground Zero. It seems that no-where on this little island is free from tourists, but then on second thoughts I cannot complain, it is not as if we have been anywhere other than the tourist trail, so for now I just accept it.
We carry on and find ourselves in Chinatown surrounded by plastic bags, fakes leather belts, Christian Dior and Valentino pours out onto the streets and everyone is walking around with black bags filled with the not so designer goods they have bought. Deep into Chinatown we find a little place to eat which gladly did not have a tourist in site and gathered our second wind.
Back on the road we headed up towards Soho and excitedly raced each other into Urban Outfitters and competed as to who could do the most damage to their credit cards… I may have won.
Our days continued in this way, until one evening the Israeli turns to me and says, “You really have not bought anything. Tomorrow we are going to have Channah day. We’ll do anything you want… I will be the bag carrier.”
So the next day we began Channah day with a hearty breakfast and many coffee refills before heading out towards downtown on the hunt for dresses, shoes and Aveda shampoo. After hours of walking around, buying little we finally found the Aveda store. Once in I promptly began filling my basket full of the Shampoos and potions I had been lusting after since our arrival, when the lady offered me a rejuvenating massage before I head back out onto the street to shop some more. I sat there as she massaged my shoulders and scalp and hoped that the Israeli was taking notes to do it again to me once we returned to our hotel.
Half an hour later feeling relaxed and slightly light-headed, my wallet significantly lighter we made our way further south towards Bleeker Street towards The Magnolia Bakery. We got directions from the chatty owner of a local Irish pub, who informed us that there was no way we would miss it for the line of people we would see outside. However when we got to Magnolia we realised that perhaps we had underestimated his warning… the line went all the way around the block! But we were there and despite the Israeli insisting, “It’s not the holocaust! Why are we queuing for food!” we waited it out to try the most famous cupcakes in New York.
The line was filled with tourists, Japanese school girls with their cameras at the ready, the odd New Yorker who spent the entire wait bitching at how many tourists come to their beloved local bakery. Once in it was a race to the finish line, who could get the best cupcakes and get out alive! The thing is, although the cupcakes were definitely delicious, I prefer to be able to pick the food I want, instead of the limited selection that was available to me. Channah day ended so peacefully with drinks with a friend and a good night sleep… I wish every day could be Channah day.
I awoke the next morning so excited I could not control myself. Today we were moving out of this dump and into a decent hotel! It was 10am and I did not care that check in was only 3pm; I wanted to go there now! But alas that was not possible, so instead I settled for a hearty smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel from a local deli, a coffee from Dunkin' Doughnuts, before checking out of our slum.
Bags back on our backs, we decided to head to the new hotel again, we have no shame, and leave our bags there for the day until we checked in. This was obviously no problem, and we then headed out into Midtown New York ready to explore the streets.
Unlike with every other town that we had visited, in New York we did not use the Lonely Planet Guide; we did not walk around with a map (ok a couple of times, but only for reference). In New York we were not tourists, at least we did not feel like tourists. In New York we were home. It is very hard to explain, especially as for the Israeli, this was his first time in the States ‘period’ and for me, well last time I was in New York it was for a minimal amount of time and while there I chose to close my eyes and let my hostess lead me around the city. This time around we were leading ourselves in the only way we knew how… getting lost, getting found and realising that using a Starbucks or Dunking Doughnuts as a point of reference is not going to help you find your way.
Regardless, we had a vague idea of where our hotel was in relation to a few major landmarks, so off we headed down the road, past Grand Central Station (we’ll get to that in a few days), in the shadow of the Chrysler building, past the Empire State Building and on to Time Square. I remember going to Time Square in the winter, in the snow and watching the bright lights, made all the brighter in the snow seemed so magical. Here on a hot summer’s day, with an overcast sky and the heat of the streets steaming up all around us, the view was totally different. I suddenly looked at Time Square from the perspective of a local, and I had the urge to wipe at my arms and legs to swipe the tourists away from me. It reminded me of the promenade in Tel Aviv mid-August when all the French tourists are in town… I avoid the promenade in Tel-Aviv during the whole of August. In fact I avoid that area from the end of June, July, and August and maybe will venture back around the end of September… maybe.
But this was different. This was not my home, I was one of the tourists, so as much as I felt a little overwhelmed by the number of people swarming around me, I could not be mad at it… I was one of them. We spent the rest of the day visiting my New York office, buying a Nintendo Wii, checking out the shops and getting used to the city. And we walked. Lord did we walk!
Eventually we returned to our new hotel, The Eastgate Tower Suites. In our room, which was pretty much the size of a studio apartment, with its own kitchen, dining area, sofas and chairs, walk in wardrobe and bathroom, we unpacked our belongings into our home for the week and could not help but feel like it was our home for good. And as we lay on our giant bed and surveyed the space around us and the clothes hanging in our closet we smiled contently for we saw that it was good.
So we left my cousins' early this morning in somewhat of a rush to get our car to the rental place before the 12pm deadline. We made it, settled up with the rental company, put our rucksacks on our backs and headed towards our home for the next week on East 39th Street Manhattan... or so we thought...
On arrival at our hotel we found that our booking had been cancelled and then on second glance the hotel receptionist informed us that the hotel room had in fact been rescheduled for Tuesday 24th June and not Monday 23rd June. They would happily arrange a room for us for the evening, but it would be $500.
We scratched our heads... on the one hand we had been driving all morning and were tired and just wanted a place to call home for longer than a couple of days, but on the other hand nothing was worth that amount of money... just think of all the shoes I could be buying with that!
We checked a few websites and found a little place on the Upper West side which was of a reasonable price and thought, "well really what other option do we have?" Rucksacks back on our backs we hailed a cab and headed uptown.
Now I hate to sound like a snob, but when I mentioned that this place was small I don't think I gave a full and true representation of how tiny this place actually was. Firstly the bed was possibly the smallest bed we have experienced here in the States and secondly that was pretty much the entirety of the room... just the bed. No I think I do not exaggerate when I tell you that in order to get into the bathroom I had to move our luggage in front of the main door to the room and then to get out of the room we had to move the luggage back in front of the bathroom.There was certainly very little breathing space and the window opened up to a brick wall, so there was very little air in the room to breath anyway. Not to be down heartened we decided to find the best out of the crappy situation we were in and although we could not work out how we had both overlooked such a stupid mistake, I decided to call my sister who had lived around the neighboured a few years before for a couple of years. Within five minutes we had a game plan and decided to head out onto the streets and explore some of the Upper West side.
New York has a way of hitting you the moment you step into it. I realised this as soon as we drove off the Brooklyn bridge into Manhattan and I got stuck in a right lane wanting to turn left. Outside of the tourist areas it is eat or be eaten and after 4 years of living in Israel I was certainly prepared to bite back... This English girl ain't no fool!
The Upper West side is actually a pretty cool place. I mean I had always thought of it as one of the big Jewish hang outs in New York, but after walking around I saw so many decent bars and restaurants... it made it very difficult to choose where we actually wanted to park our tired butts to eat. The second plan for the day, under my sister's recommendation, was to head to Central Park and take advantage of this oasis in the middle of the city.
On the way we were only slightly distracted by the Museum of Natural History. It was 5pm and at first we thought it too late to go into the museum as they closed at 5.40, but the lady at the door informed us that now was possibly the best time to go as it was free and fewer people were around. Free! We were sold and we headed in to get a quick tour, but really we had one thing on our mind. The Squid and the Whale.
For those of you that have never been to New York or never heard of the Squid and the Whale I will paint little picture for you. In the Oceanic area of the Museum is a Giant Blue Whale hovering mid air and the walls surrounding are alight with various displays of aquatic life. All very interesting and a little more gritty than the fluffy displays we had seen at the Museum of Natural History in DC. For example one of the displays was, at first glance, of a Polar Bear and a baby seal, however on second glance you realise that the polar bear is stood growling by the side of a hole in the ice and the baby seal has clearly been plucked from the water by the bear, leaving a trail of blood on the snow behind it. So now that you have a feel of the place, we headed downstairs to the deep sea level of the displays and somewhere under the stairs you will find the display entitled the Squid and the Whale. In darkness the giant squid is trapped between the jaws of the Whale deep under the sea. It is pretty gory, scary and fascinating to see an artist's interpretation of how these two aquatic giants meet. It really is a display you have to stand and stare at...
Anyway, back to Central Park. I have been to New York once or twice before and enjoyed Central Park in the winter, but after walking around for half an hour trying to find the area that I went to last time to show the Israeli that area I gave up and decided to enjoy what was around us... The Jackie Onassisreservoir, the Great Lawn. We walked and found ourselves outside the Shakespeare Theatre, which my sister had told me showed free performances throughout the summer, so we decided to grab some tickets and make a night of Hamlet in the park.
After running home and having a shower we headed back to the Shakespeare Theatre and found our seats. The plan was we would meet up with a friend and eat afterwards, but I clearly have not been to the theatre for a while because I did not realise that the show would go on so late. Three and a half hours later, after a thoroughly enjoyable performance, we were walking out of the park and carrying our tired asses back to the hotel. Within minutes I was out and dreaming of a squid and a whale in our real hotel room tomorrow.
What once was a blog about my trials and tibulations as an English girl in Israel has now become the adventures of an English girl from Israel in the heart of New York... or is that an English girl in New York with the heart of Israel?
