Category: 2Cs OverCs

Saturday 16 and Sunday 17 April 2016

Isabel gave us a typical French breakfast each morning, consisting of croissant, bread and jam.  Tea for Cherrie and coffee for me whilst Aramis, the enormous and overweight chocolate brown Labrador looks on.  He is gorgeous, very friendly and dotes on the three resident cats, as do they on him.

At 9.30am Colin collects us in his black Ford Galaxy.  Over the next two days we will learn all about Colin.  Cherrie’s perspective is that he is very informative, jolly and currently pre-occupied with personal problems – that of his wife recovering from her third bout of cancer.  Clearly she has been very ill indeed and this recovery is unexpected.  Christine, who as you know is inferior to Cherrie in the niceness department, thinks he is a smug, self-interested, highly qualified horticulturalist and garden designer who is not interested in anyone else.  We have spent 18 hours with him to date, just the three of us, and he has learned absolutely nothing about either of us.  He simply is not interested.  Perhaps we are not interesting people, perhaps we do not talk about ourselves enough, but I think he should at least feign interest in his clients.

However, we have had a great two days, visiting four gardens, and two go to tomorrow.  First up we drive for 90 minutes through charming French villages, to Prieuere Notre Dame D’Orsan in Maisonnais (not to be confused with salad cream), coincidentally in the Berry Region of Central France.  This fabulous garden is set in former monastery and was established in 1107.  It’s quite inspirational, even spiritual, and abounds with so many ideas.  I fear for the work awaiting us on our return to Quamby and secretly (so secretly that I am sharing my secret with all of you) wish that Cherrie forgets more than she remembers, else we will never get any rest.

 

Lunch proves to be a bit of a challenge because the bistrot that Colin had planned, en route to the next garden, is closed.  However he finds another town and finally a restaurant which is still open at 1.45pm on a Saturday and we have steak frites of course.  Avec a glass of vin rouge of course.

Then another 45 minute drive to Apremont, a ‘jardin remarquable’, with waterfalls, ornamental pools, follies, a pagoda and even a white garden inspired by Sissinghurst.

All day it has been overcast but the heavens opened during our Apremont visit.  Fortunately we had NY purchased cheap ponchos and fold up brollys in our bags which came in most handy.  Clearly there has been previous rain because our boots and pants were already mud splattered and so the rain just made it much worse really.

We arrived back to Isabel and Aramis about 6.15pm, shed our muddy boots in her kitchen and went upstairs to change for dinner around Isabel’s kitchen table.  She fed us a wonderful salmon tartare, bread and cheese.  With another bottle of vin rouge, a lighter one this time but still very palatable.

This morning, Sunday, Colin dutifully collected us at 9.30am, we put our suitcases in his car and bit a fond farewell to Isabel and Aramis and headed off.  We make a little unscheduled stop to see the public gardens in the town of Vierzon.

This was France’s major steel making town for many years, and thus heavily bombed during WW2 and nearly wiped out. When the few surviving sons of the town returned post war the town employed them to build a memorial garden.  It is in Art Deco style and fabulous and quite moving.

 

The lavoir (public laundry) is underneath the amphitheatre building

A car club drove into town while we were there, en route to a rally somewhere

The gardens in the Chateau of Cheverny, a grand estate which has been in the same family for over six hundred years are amazing. The front of the estate is extremely austere but at the back is the ‘new garden’ and surprisingly it is quite new – only 10 years or so. I had expected a new garden to be a youngster of 150 years!  Due to the width of the garden our photographer could not get the whole shot in and so she feels her photos do not do it justice.

 As you have now seen, tulips are the flower of spring. Lots of others of course, but tulips really do dominate.

In this particular garden 100,000 tulips are in bloom right now!

Lunch consisted of a prix fixe menu in a little hotel in a little town.  And most delicious it was too.  It’s Sunday, and school holidays, so everything is quite busy, but nothing, absolutely nothing, is open on a Sunday save the restaurants and the boulangeries.  Not even trucks are allowed on the motorways on Sunday!

After lunch, on to the Chateau de Chenonceau on the River Cher, built in the 16^th Century.  Surrounded by two complete moats, this castle is built right over the river.  No chance of unwelcome visitors at this Chateau.

Chenonceau became the home of Diane de Poitier who was the official mistress of King Henri II.  Henri’s wife was Catherine de Medici, of the noble Italian family, and on the death of Henri, Catherine chucked Diana out and moved into the Chateau herself.  Catherine ruled France for a number of years, on behalf of her young son(s).  The two kitchens are in the lower floor of the chateau which spans the river and the boats would pull right up to the larder door in one of two tunnels to unload the goodies.

The two main gardens were each designed by one of the noblewomen, Diane de Poitier (who Catherine called The Royal Whore)

 And the smaller, simpler but very beautiful garden of Catherine

Lots of elements to this garden, including the water pump and more tulips in the potager

An overcast but not wet day, save for a very light and quick shower at Chenonceau, and a pair of wonderful gardens plus a public park.  Colin drives us to Monts, near Tours, where we are in another B&B, Le Clos d’Elisa, and finally finds it within a maze of one way streets.  We arrive at 6.30pm and our host, Arna, is a most charming woman in her late ’60’s I’d say, which also means I’d say she’s pretty young all thing considered.

Her English is excellent and she shows us to our gorgeous room on the top floor of a three storey house, which is only to be expected since we are carrying our luggage through the Arctic and into the South of France and all climates in between.  We overlook back gardens with what look like soon to be planted vegetable plots.  A bucolic rural scene.

An hour later Arna serves us with quiche Lorraine, green salad and bread and cheese.  Oh, and a bottle of fine vin rouge.  She leaves us to eat, which Isabel didn’t, and we appreciate the privacy.  To our room with the remnants of the wine and good wi-fi.  Hence the loading of this blog.

Another two gardens tomorrow.

Au revoir for now.

PS:  I note that not all of the photos from our first French blog uploaded, no doubt due to Isabel’s painfully slow internet connection to the top stair.  For those of you who care, here they are

So, it’s Friday 15 April and we depart London early via the Eurostar from St Pancras Station.  The train travels at 294km per hour and we arrive at Gare Nord at 11.10am.  We need to transfer to Gare Austerlitz for the next part of our journey, and our friend Christopher Austen, who travels to France a lot, has advised us to get a taxi rather than the Metro.  Even he, a seasoned French traveller, has failed more than once to make the correct Metro transfer.  We happily take his advice.  We arrive at Gare Austerlitz in time for a café et jambon sandwich before boarding the train which will deliver us to our first French stop, Chateauroux.  It is from here that we commence our first two days of garden tours with Colin Elliott, our France based English garden guide who we found on the internet and with whom Cherrie has been having happy email conversations.  The usual protocol for Colin is that his guests stay with him but his wife has recently been ill and so we are asked to arrange our own accommodation, and at Colin’s specific request on the southern side of the town.  Chateauroux, from the doorway of the railway station, appears to be a medium sized town.  We have used booking.com once again to reserve a room in a B&B in an area called Le Poinconnet, on Colin’s chosen area.  We drag our cases to the taxi rank with no taxis and a taxi phone hanging off the wall.  Fortunately the taxi number is well displayed and I use my mobile phone, with Australian sim card, to ring for a taxi and manage to order one in very very poor French.  Luck was on our side because the dispatch woman did not ask where we were going.  The taxi turned up about 5 minutes later and a very spunky young driver, who spoke not much English but a good deal more than our French, delivered us 8 kms out of town to the B&B in the middle of the countryside.

Our hostess, Isabel, looked alarmed when the taxi drove away and indicated that we were going to need a car. ‘Non, non, no auto’ we said.  Ah merde, her body language said.  We had confirmed on our booking that we required dinner in but clearly that message did not get across to our non-English speaking host.  Her husband is in hospital and she was in the garden wearing gumboots with a guerney in her hand cleaning the patio tiles around the swimming pool.  She clearly does not want to give us dinner but realises that she has to.  ‘Just pain et fromage’ I say, in perfect English.  ‘oui, I make you breakfast tonight’ she says.  ‘7.30 avec vin rouge au blanc?’  ‘Rouge’ I scream ‘merci beaucoup Madame’.  She races back to the garden, we lug our suitcases upstairs to a charming bedroom with en suite and then take an hour’s walk.  We see a stable

And, then our interest piques some inside the stable

Charming rural houses

 

And an old well

 

Clearly this is canola country

We have no appetite to work up because we are starving, having only had a train breakfast and a shared jambon sandwich at lunchtime.  Still, we would benefit from a few days of starvation.  Who knows what 7.30pm will offer us.

It’s now 8.10pm.  We have consumed bread and cheese for dinner. And a most delicious bottle of 2012 Cabernet Franc from the Loire Valley.  We are in the Loire!  Who knew?  Not us. Isabel actually does speak some broken English, and we have a laboured conversation with her over our cheeses.  She does not join us for dinner, or should I say breakfast?

We are now back in our bedroom, although I am perched on one leg (the good one) on the top stair of the curved staircase, computer cradled to my ample breast as I reach for wi-fi (wee-fee) coverage.

Until tomorrow…..bon nuit.

Update:  wi-fi did not work.  Am now sitting in Isabel’s parlour downstairs, forbidden territory I fear, in the hope that this will go.

 

 

We see a stable

 

And a horse in the stable

 

Charming rural houses

 

And an old well

 

Clearly this is canola country

 

 

 

 

 

We have no appetite to work up because we are starving, having only had a train breakfast and a shared jambon sandwich at lunchtime.  Still, we would benefit from a few days of starvation.  Who knows what 7.30pm will offer us.

 

It’s now 8.10pm.  We have consumed fromage and pain. And a most delicious bottle of 2012 Cabernet Franc from the Loire Valley.  We are in the Loire!  Who knew?  Not us.

 

We are now back in our bedroom, although I am perched on one leg (the good one) on the top stair of the curved staircase, computer cradled to my ample breast as I reach for wi-fi (wee-fee) coverage.

 

Until tomorrow…..bon nuit

We fly out of New York at 6.30pm on Tuesday. That’s 11.30pm UK time.  We are with British Airways and much as it goes against my grain to praise Alan Joyce, I’m afraid BA just doesn’t measure up to Qantas.  We are served dinner but the cabin lights don’t go out until about 2am.  Suffice to say, not much sleep.  In fact none, even though we chose the no breakfast option.  We land at 6.30am and are at our hotel near Victoria Station by 8.45am, both feeling a bit crossed eyed.  Mercifully the room was available so we shower and change and then hot foot it, via the tube, to Waterloo East Station where we take the train to Sevenoaks to visit one of my mother’s oldest surviving (perhaps the only surviving now) friend who has recently moved  into a home for the older folk. Dear Brenda Austen, of whom I am terribly fond, is still sharp as a tack mentally, and only a little frail physically.  She will turn 93 next month.  Her son Christopher meets us at the station at 11.10am and drives us to the Sunrise home (kind of them not to name it Sunset) where Brenda awaits, looking resplendent in her sky blue cashmere twin set and pearls. We have coffee and then go out to the Kings Head pub for lunch.  This is Brenda’s first meal out since she moved seven months ago.  She has been in hospital twice in that time and so today was a special treat for both she and me.

 

She is a darling person with a wicked sense of humour whom I adore and I am thrilled to see her, possibly for the last time.

At 2.30pm, by arrangement, our dear friend David Williams rocks up at the pub with his beautiful dog Roxy and half an hour later we wave Brenda and Christopher off,  not without a very big hug for Brenda.  David has driven all the way from Tenby in the south west of Wales to see us.  He stayed overnight with his oldest friend, Neville, en route and Neville accompanied him to Sevenoaks.   He seems a better conversationalist than Roxy.

We have a lovely 2 hours with David, Roxy and Neville in the pub garden on a glorious sunny day, the warmest we have had since leaving home. David has had a torrid three years, with the death of his father and the demise of his mother and he describes Roxy as his saviour.  He and his sister have recently moved their mother into a nursing home in her home town of Swansea which has freed him up to regain his own life.  Another real treat today to see David.  He and Neville, under the supervision of Roxy, drop us at the train station at 4.30pm for our return trip to London.  No rain, but a fairly typical English sky!

We get back to the hotel by 5.30pm and head off half an hour later for a light dinner,which is all we can afford in London.  I even forego the glass of wine when I read the price – ₤11 for a glass of wine!  An early, and sober, night.

Thursday sees Cherrie feeling unwell again.  She has battled a cold and cough for three weeks now, had a few (previously unreported) sick days in New York and now feels it’s time to see a doctor for fear of a chest infection.  We finally find a medical practice in Victoria Station which will see her as a private patient at 2.30pm and really do not much before that, save for a snack in the local greasy spoon.  We were paying customers!

 The doctor is a very nice woman who says that Cherrie’s chest sounds clear but has given her antibiotics to start should she feel worse in the next day or so.  Easier than trying to communicate with a French doctor, since we are uncivilised and uneducated non bilingualists.  At 3pm we set out to the Royal Academy to see the ‘Painting the Modern Garden:  Monet to Matisse’ exhibition.  This is really the only thing we really wanted to do in London in this, our only day here.  But we arrive to find there are no tickets available for the remainder of the exhibition – another two weeks to go!  So we cruise the Burlington Arcade instead and I buy a pair of gold stud earrings!  I am served by a charming young gentleman (‘young’ is anyone who has not yet travelled beyond 50 yrs) who goes by the name of Matthew Wildsmith.  When I ask the origin of his name, and the manner of the smithing, he advises me that his family go back to the 13^th century as shoe smiths, and that indeed his grandfather made the first ever slip on shoe, for King George VI.  I am impressed.  St Dunstan, of course, was the first Archbishop of Canterbury so we go back further (he died in 988 but I don’t remember him).  To the best of my knowledge he dealt in other souls, although may well have been a heel.

Another early (and no doubt abstaining) dinner tonight and early departure tomorrow to catch the 8am train to Paris with connection to Chateauroux for the start of our French trip.

More soon. Au Revoir

 

 

 

Our friend Sancha, who is coming to NY in September with her husband John for the first time, asks us what makes New York a great city.  We have been cogitating for a few days and we believe that this is a great city because of its vibrancy and energy.  It is true that it is a city which never sleeps, but there’s so much more to the Big Apple.  It’s a city which is very welcoming, caring and safe.  It’s a city which is more tolerant than any we know in the world.  It’s a true mixing pot of cultures, languages and cuisines.  You can be yourself in New York without fear of judgement, no matter what yourself is.  They are a very polite and caring people, who look after each other.  It is a series of communities which make up one big community.  The East Village, Greenwich, Chelsea, Little Italy, Chinatown, Meatpackers, Midtown etc.  The architecture is great, not all beautiful but a wonderful skyline.  On the subway there are loonies who no one takes any notice of.  A tramp with an enormous shopping trolley, piled literally 6 feet (we’re still imperial here) high with trash (cans and bottles for recycling, clothes, bibs and bobs) and no one turns a hair.

A lone man will get on a subway and start singing…..the other day he sang On The Sunny Side of the Street….all by himself and very loudly. Not particularly well, but not hideous. He walked around with a cup hoping for some coins whilst singing, and when no one reached into their pockets, he kept singing anyway.  He thanked us all at the next station where he alighted, and no doubt took the next subway to test his luck. A couple may have an argument on the train, but no one takes any notice.  I’m sure they would if it got violent, but this is just everyday stuff lived out in public, and the public tolerates it happily. It’s a densely populated city yet still there are lots of parks and public spaces.  This is a city which cares for its community.  It’s a city rich in cultural and artistic life, and one which encourages a social life for all.  It’s possible to live quite cheaply in New York and yet still have a good lifestyle. Clearly it’s a financial and business capital as well, which contributes to it being a great city, but it has a ‘feel’ like no other to me. I just can’t get enough of it. Cherrie has had enough of it…you can get the girl out of the country but you can’t get the country out of the girl.

So, our last week in New York, week 4, has come to an end.   As I write this we are at the airport to board our flight to London in two hours time.  We got here early and sailed through check in and security, so are now relaxing in the lounge after our action packed week.  The weather has been variable this week.  We have seen some rain, some hot days (18◦C), some cold days (2◦C) and some rain.  But none of it got in our way.

Many of my friends will be flabbergasted, and no doubt appalled, that Cherrie and I have spent 4 weeks in New York and not seen a single Broadway show.  Some of those same friends would have calculated 28 nights and 10 matinee opportunities and seen 38 shows.  We have not seen one.  Had there been something really compelling we would have made the effort but there wasn’t and so we didn’t.  Outrageous, I know.

We’ve had a busy week, doing what locals do.  We have been to the legendary jazz club Birdland on W44th, where we supported the benefit Broadway for Africa, which is a group of theatre workers who use theatre techniques to teach literacy and confidence to African kids.  Amongst the stellar line up was our friend Tony Sheldon, who sang a wonderful ballad written by fellow Australian Matthew Robinson called Madness in the Air, which he sang with such passion and confidence.  He brought the house down.  And the finale was a trio of Tony, Nick Adams and Will Swenson (the original stars of Priscilla Queen of the Desert on Broadway) in the rousing number from that show called We Belong Together.  We sat with Aussie actor/writers Tony Taylor and Amanda Bishop, ate good food and thoroughly immersed ourselves in this historic (well, founded in 1949) venue which has hosted the likes of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Gary Cooper, Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra, Joe Louis, Marlene Dietrich, Ava Gardner, Sammy Davis, Jr. and Sugar Ray Robinson.  And now, Cherrie McDonald

We went to the Iguana Club on West 54^th for a night of dancing and dining.  But we avoided the dancing, because the other guests were phenomenal jitterbuggers, jivers and ballroomers.  A treat to listen to the wonderful swing band that is Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks.

Our table, consisting of Susan Lyons, Judy Morris, Brendan O’Connell, Amanda Bishop and Cherrie and myself tapped to the beat all night.  We stayed far longer than planned and danced all the way home at midnight.  See, you can dance in the streets in New York without arrest.

We drank cocktails with Amanda on the top floor of the Standard Hotel on the Highline at Chelsea, with wonderful views down the river, or uptown, depending on which side of the lounge you sit.  We did both of course, but the rain dampened the river view somewhat (if you’ll pardon the pun).

We went to Ellis Island, by ferry from south wharf, on the very southern tip of Manhattan.  The Island was the gateway for over 12 million immigrants to the US from 1892 until 1954.  It’s a really good museum and we learned lots.

 and our photo editor, Cherrie, took this great shot of Liberty and Freedom together (ie the statue and the Freedom Tower, where the World Trade Centre stood).

We were particularly arty this week with several stops along Museum Mile including visits to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is overwhelming in its size and can only be visited in short bursts.  A wonderful collection which never fails to inspire, including these horses and dancers by Degas, along with the van Gogh’s which never fail to set my heart alight.

 We felt secure at the Met too, as the boys in blue were keeping guard outside

We went to the brand new Met Breuer (named after the architect Marcel Breuer, pronounced Broy-er) which opened only two weeks ago and houses some of the Met’s modern and contemporary art and exhibitions.  Their first exhibition Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible is a fascinating display of unfinished works by major artists.  The reason for the incompletion is not always known and frankly to our untrained eyes many of them did not look incomplete.  Here are some samples from Warhol, Klimpt and van Gogh

 We popped into the Guggenheim where the building is every bit as beautiful as any artwork inside.

 We visited the Smithsonian Museum of Design which houses many fascinating models and ideas.

Still on Museum Mile is the Neue Galerie (pronounced Noy-er, as in New in German), started by art dealer Serge Sabarsky and philanthropist Ronald Lauder, Estee’s son. Sabarsky and Lauder shared a passionate commitment to Modern German and Austrian art and this gallery is housed in a wonderful old building on 86^th and 5^th.   Many great Klimpt’s, including the portrait of Adele Bloch Bauer, which was the subject of the Helen Mirren film Woman in Gold.  We were lucky enough to see a Munch exhibition too, including the famous The Scream, which inspired one of Dame Edna’s favourite frocks.

 

 We walked the usual many kilometres this week, as you do in New York and we made a special trip to Bryant Park to give it Ros’ love as instructed

And we even let off some steam

 We assumed this was the New York Jockey Club but no, it’s just a restaurant

 Sometimes we take the train and we were delighted at this series of small brass and bronze figures at 14^th St Station

 We spent some time watching an apparently unassuming young man practice his turns on ice at the Rockefeller Centre

 And delighted in the Spring blooms at the Centre.

 That’s a swimming pool at the other end, god only knows why

 

That would be a rock pool wouldn’t it?

A visit to the Top of the Rock never fails to delight in the wonderous views

And where we took our only ever selfie

More public art in 6 1/2 Avenue, a small walkway between 6^th and 7^th

 And in Central park

Beautiful St Patricks Cathedral wedged between modern buildings on 5^th Ave

 And we’re always taken with the general community feel of New York

 

New York is definitely a city for walking and walk we do.  We also pop into shops, stick our heads into interesting buildings and marvel at the number of tulips and daffodils which have blossomed since our arrival.  We love the many street vendor food vans, all supposedly serving halal hot dogs and pretzels as well as falafels.  And, the nut carts, ‘nuts 4 nuts’ they’re called. And the street vendors selling beanies, scarfs and tacky tee shirts.  They are all friendly and jolly and happy to greet as you walk past, with no intention of purchasing.

It seems that at least 50% of New Yorkers have dogs and they are all walked, on leash, at least twice a day, sometimes 6 at once.  Everyone cleans up after their dogs.  No poo on these pavements.

On a glorious sunny Sunday, with Amanda, we wander around the Dumbo markets and then walk over the Brooklyn Bridge, south to north.

 

This one is for you, John and Quinnie

We caught up for dinner with our friend Ben Cameron who has moved from New York to Minneapolis for work but who flew in to see us. We dined at the Café Luxembourg and had a wonderful night.

With Susan and Jefferson we went to the New York Philharmonic in the lovely David Geffen Hall at the Lincoln Centre and heard Suppe’s Poet and Peasant Overture, Strauss’ Oboe Concerto and Beethoven’s sublime 6^th Symphony, the Pastoral.  Just in case you were worried that we might have been starving ourselves, we had dinner prior in the Lincoln Kitchen.  It’s always good to be out and about with Jefferson, who is a mine of information about almost everything and we learned that the Lincoln Centre stands on the site of what were tenement blocks, indeed where West Side Story was filmed.

On Sunday night we were delighted to visit Dizzy’s Club at Columbus Circle with our friend Marsha,  a real treat to catch up with her again.   Dizzy’s is a jazz club with the most fantastic views from its picture window.

We heard the jazz singer Sutton Tierney and her extraordinary three piece band comprising the ubiquitous piano, bass and drums, but these boys were quite outstanding.  A great evening with really lovely music in a glorious room.

Our month in New York has come to an end and yet not everything is struck off our wish list.  I guess that means another visit…….

From the moment we boarded the train in Philadelphia for our return to New York on Monday evening, Christine coughed.  She coughed all the way home and spent Tuesday and Wednesday in bed.  Cherrie got out and about a bit, wandering around our old stamping ground where we stayed on our last extended holiday in NY, in Chelsea.

 

Fortunately, Christine was well enough by Wednesday evening to return to Carnegie Hall to see the great jazz singer Dianne Reeves in concert.  We first became aware of Reeves when she provided the vocals to George Clooney’s film Good Night and Good Luck, and subsequently saw her at the grand old opry house with the Sydney Symphony.  Wow, what a voice and what a superb band at this concert comprising piano, guitar, bass and drums.  Really fine musicians all of them, making really great music.  Reeves is a great raconteur and was very amusing.  She even asked if anyone could get her tickets to the hottest show in town, Hamilton, to please meet her at stage door afterwards!  Made us feel better that we can’t get tickets to the only show we want to see, when we hear that even the lauded stars can’t get them.

Before the concert, we dine at the iconic restaurant The Russian Tea Room.  We have only one course and one glass of wine each, since we hope to eek out our retirement funds for a little time yet.  But, neither of us has been here before and we figured, what the heck.  Great décor and matching history.  It was founded in 1927 by former members of the Russian Imperial Ballet as a meeting place for expatriate Russians.  This is where Madonna worked as a coat check chick before she found fame, or did fame find her?  It’s been used a lot as a film set, most notably for one of Dustin Hoffman’s scenes in Tootsie, as well as Woody Allen’s Manhattan.

If we ever worry about over eating, and our continued walking not countering it, we turn to this blackboard for inspiration.

We had heard about the cruise that circumnavigates the island of Manhattan and so we find it and take it from Pier 83 on 42^nd Street and Riverside Drive.  We cruise down the Hudson River, into the harbour and up the East River, back into the Hudson.  It’s a great perspective on this dense city and its fabulous skyline

 

You will note that the skyline is now dominated by the new Freedom Tower, built on the site of the World Trade Centre Tower One

 

It’s the tallest building in these photos and if you look carefully see air space next to it.  This is where Tower Two stood and that air space will be preserved in memory

 We get up close and personal to Liberty

 

 we cruise under the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges

Past the power station

Old piers (as opposed to old peers, many of whom are now also old sticks)

 

Buildings of rental apartments, many of which are owned by corporations and are strictly for rental

 the United Nations building, with the security council building in the front

 past Gracie Mansion, the home of the NY Mayor,  which is every bit as impressive (from the outside at least) as Kirribilli or Admiralty Houses

And we  even went past  a golf driving range!

All in all, it was a terrific 2½ hours.

 

We go to the Theater for the New City in the East Village to see Charles Busch’s Cleopatra.  Being two farm girls from Berry, we have never heard of Charles Busch, but he is apparently a terribly famous drag queen of immense talent with a huge following in both the straight and gay communities.  We specifically go to this show because Tony Sheldon, an old friend (and son of Toni Lamond), is in it and we want to see him.  We are surprised how much we enjoy the show.  It’s very funny and very irreverent.  Charles Busch plays Cleopatra (of course) and Sheldon plays Caesar and Lepidus but his piece de resistance is his Calpurnia.  It’s wonderful.  We have coffee with Tony post show (yes folks, coffee only) and get the subway home.  Sheldon is looking wonderful and is very happy in New York, he’s been here 5 years now and says NY is home.

New York’s weather this week is like a yo-yo.  Two (relatively) sizzling days of 23◦C with another two down to 6◦, one with a fierce wind making it even colder.  Plus we’ve had some rain.  Our plans for the walk over the Brooklyn Bridge and the Highline are blown out the window, as it were.

Instead, we head to the new Whitney Museum.  But we inadvertently catch the wrong subway train (as we have done previously, although unreported in this blog for fear of ridicule until we realise that this is a common mistake made even by the most seasoned locals) which has us on the other side of town.  So, we wander through the lower east side, through Little Italy and Chinatown and through Washington Square with its charming gardens

And we visit the Tenement Museum, which we had booked a week ago so popular is it.

Based in an actual tenement building in the lower east side, on Orchard Street, the museum preserves the history of immigration through the personal experiences of the generations of newcomers who settled in, and built lives, in this part of New York over the end of the 19^th and the first half of the 20^th Century.

 

 It’s  a great experience although the “Museum” word was a bit scary to Christine, as she recognised first hand almost everything in the “museum” kitchen…..soap in little metal cages to whisk in the sink water to wash dishes in, Bay Rum hair oil, Borax, Maxwell House Coffee in screw top tins, Chicory in bottles…… oh the list goes on.  Where did those years go?

A little weary after the museum, we consider a movie and decide to walk a mere 29 blocks to Union Square to see Helen Mirren’s new film Eye in the Sky.  En route, down Lafayette Street, we are diverted to the sidewalk on the other side of the road because of filming on this side.  We note the snow on the pavements, and the cameras and cranes and other filming paraphernalia set up, and we see the two actors being filmed as they stroll down the street, apparently chatting.

 Hang on, who is that?  Is that?  No, it can’t be.

But it is.  Dame Helen Mirren.  Filming right in front of us.  Just as we’re going to see her other film!!  I wanted to tell her of the coincidence, but modesty prevented me.  Only in New York….

Eye in the Sky is a terrific film.  An interesting study in morals, ethics, politics and strategy.  One for you, Tim.

We meet up with our friend Marsha at the Lincoln Centre for lunch.  It’s so lovely catching up with old friends, although we are concerned for Marsha as she looks so tired and drawn.  Her partner is battling the late stages of cancer and things are not looking good.  Marsha has very few opportunities to get out and have any time to herself, so we are grateful for these couple of hours.  Marsha asks if we have been to the Gay Bars.  Christine, as is her want, immediately responds before Cherrie is given the opportunity with “Oh no, that’s not our scene”.  “What do you mean?” asks Marsha “It’s great”.  “No no, nowe don’t do those gay bars” says the deaf one.  “Not gay bars – Zabar’s.  It’s an absolutely wonderful gourmet deli on Broadway which you will adore”.

And we did.

Saturday night brings drinks at Susan and Jefferson’s gorgeous upper west side apartment, near Columbia University, and the lovely surprise guest in Judy Morris.  Judy is one of Australia’s leading actresses, who in recent years has branched out into directing and writing for cinema, very successfully.  She spends much time in the UK working and time in the US visiting family.  Her daughter, brother and sister all live and work here.  We then all go out to S&J’s local for a delightful meal.

Sunday we have brunch at Ronnie’s apartment, which is owned by one of the corporations referred to earlier. Ronnie is on a 12 month lease and subject to rental market increases.  Her apartment has been recently renovated by the landlord and is very comfortable.  Ronnie tells us that some tenants in the building have been there for 40 years or more and are subject to rent control, whereby the rent is fixed until they vacate.  To qualify for rent control a tenant must have been continuously in their apartment since 1 July 1971. Subsequently some of these people are living in almost squalor, as their apartment have not been renovated or restored in any way by the landlord since they moved in.

We then retire ‘home’ for a restful day.  The wind is too fierce to be out and about.

But this week, despite sick time off, we have walked many kilometres, as it is so easy to do in this big, bustling, exciting city. There is so much to see, so many weirdos to observe and sometimes avoid, and never a chance of boredom.