When the going gets weird

By Slybacon

Return to New York

Due to my compulsive need to not muck about with making buses on time, we were more than a little early for our bus back to NYC. Luckily we could swap onto the earlier bus for $5 each. We had booked a hostel in the Bowery on Manhattan for our last night. When the bus rolled back out of the Lincoln Tunnel and dropped us off, it was clear things hadn't cooled down any. What followed could only be described as torturous slog, down block after city block, stumbling beneath our gargantuan rucksack in the midday sun. I stopped to snap the Flat Iron building on the way, Riot stood in a puddle and nearly scalded her feet.

When we arrived at the hostel we were advised to check the room, as there would be no refunds. I told the girl on the desk as I climbed the stairs to the dorms "as long as it has four walls and a roof we'll be fine". To my amusement we had one out of two. The "rooms" were more partitions, dividing the floor up into a series of cells. Instead of a roof, they had bars to prevent people climbing from cell to cell. Still. The air conditioning was strong and with one night to go, I could handle anything.

We lunched next door at a hole in the wall Taco stand. Guess what I had? Yep. Fish Tacos. Fortified with salsa, we headed off down the Bowery. The place to go for lighting in NYC, judging by the amounts of shops selling lamps and light fittings. The Bowery leads to China Town, we followed. Our target was the Staten Island ferry. We managed to work our way down to the waterfront, walking along it past the various piers towards the ferry terminal.

NYC is expensive. So the fact that the Staten Island ferry is free makes it even more amazing. On the way out we just sat, our feet throbbing from our massive trek, On the return leg we enjoyed the amazing views of Liberty and Manhattan. Standing on the deck in the sunshine, I had hoped for a cooling breeze. No chance, it felt hotter than ever. I was starting to long for Scotland and some dreech.

Disembarking we decided to head up Wall Street towards the World Trade Center memorial. I wont dwell on this. Let's just say, although the monument is a great piece of public art, the attitude of the visitors towards what should be a quite space for reflection, leaves a lot to be desired. Myself and Riot left in a hurry, thoroughly bummed out by the attitudes of some of our fellow humans.

Walking back through Little Italy and Soho, brilliant street art restored me to a happier frame of mind and we decided post wash to get our final supper in China Town. We followed the lead of the Lonely Planet guide once-more. Again it did us proud. My beef-ball noodle soup was brilliant. It was also mind blowingly cheap. So hurrah. Too celebrate our cheap dinner, M.Riot decided to immediately order a ridiculous cocktail that cost as much as our entire meal. Obviously she didn't plan on it being quite so dear, but that's what you get with no prices on display.

We changed Bars after the shock of that bill. A couple of blocks up we found one called Tom and Jerry's Bar. It was fate, while ordering a drink Riot noticed the guy seemed to have a Scottish accent. Turns out he was from Edinburgh. Even stranger it turns out 25 years previously, he had worked at Stills gallery in Edinburgh where myself and Riot both volunteer. Edinburgh's a village. Even when you're not in it. We ended up staying a bit longer than planned on as he kept buying us drinks.

Suitably refreshed, it was much easier to fall asleep in our cell.

[Pic: The Flat Iron Building, NYC]
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