Decadent weekend by James

Well here’s the first part of my attempt to catch up, written over the course of two weeks and covering a space of… three days. I know… pathetic. Bite me.

Phew, here I am, nursing a throbbing headache and my weary bones, finally attempting to recall the last week’s shenanigans. Since we last spoke, I’ve trodden many paces, swiped my fair share of Metrocards and visited enough cultural attractions to choke a medium-to-large portion of sperm whales.

The Weekend - April 22-24

As you now know—thanks to Tessa’s impressive chronicling—Ruby (aka main squeeze) arrived in the Big Apple on Friday to join us for a weekend frolic of decadence and style. Knowing I would be picking her up from the airport in the evening, and having the luxury of a grey day to fill, I set off with grand designs and a wealth of choice.

Having checked in at the trendy 5th Avenue Gershwin Hotel (http://gershwinhotel.com) that would be our home for the next couple of nights, I headed to Grand Central Station to fulfil my dreams of liberty in the new world. OK, perhaps not, but it is a rather remarkable structure. Pushing off from the terminal, I continued on to Brooklyn and whiled away a few hours at the Botanic Garden, which would probably have been even more marvellous had the sun been shining but was stunning nevertheless.

Still having some moments to kill, I made my way to the famous Brooklyn Bridge and slowly ambled across, snapping away at the gloomy harbour and its enthusiastic population of joggers, lovers and cyclists. Swinging past the ruins of the World Trade Centre, I was rudely taken for a con artist while offering to take a photo of a couple together by the site. It must have been the pirate’s scar and swarthy visage. It just struck me as an example of how untrusting people are in New York—probably for good reason.

So I trundled excitedly off to JFK to pick up my baby, who’d bravely made her way to New York on her first ever solo flight. Having recovered from the initial excitement of our reunion after a week apart, (yes, pathetic, I know) we made our way back to Manhattan and the comfort of our hotel room, complete with scary Richard Bernstein Picasso portrait hanging above the bed.

The next morning, we shuffled off to Penn Station to meet Tessa coming in from Princeton and we headed off to Union Square. I strolled around the square and caught an expensive brunch at a lovely roadside café while the girls took in the subliminal messages at the NYFA Open House.

We then headed to SoHo together and I walked about getting tired and trying to find a place to rest while mad jewellery and cosmetics shopping was going on. Eventually I stumbled upon the Apple Store and took a huge double take as I realised it was designed identically to the Regent’s Street store in London. I later learned that most of the new stores share this design and it’s just a large scale brand consistency effort. Very Apple.

After buying a few boring peripherals I returned to our rendez-vous point to wait for the shopaholics to return. We were all pretty shattered and decided to call it a day but not before Ruby remembered she had to buy an iPod, giving me a chance to pull the pair back into my geek paradise.

Having dutifully attended to our prescribed retail therapy session, Ruby and I bid ‘à demain’ to Tessa and wearily retired to the Gershwin, to get a few hours shut-eye before our evening plans. Her ladyship wanted to see Times Square after dark, so we navigated the subway towards 42nd Street and Broadway at 2am to bathe in the blinding lights and watch the endless convoy of yellow cabs speeding past and drunks lumbering home.

Sunday was Ruby’s last in the Big Apple, so we spent it at the monstrous Metropolitan Museum of Art in Central Park, trying to fit as much in as we could—a complete tour of the museum would probably have taken all week. We managed to peruse the Max Ernst exhibition for a while before splitting off in search of our own destinies until closing time, vowing to return soon.

Amid fond farewells, Ruby and I made our way back to the hotel to collect our bags en route to the airport. After an abortive attempt to see what we could of the Empire State Building, an obligatory purchase of an I<3NY T-Shirt and a failed detour to see the Statue of Liberty from the tip of Manhattan, we struggled through the Subway turnstiles to discover that all express trains had reverted to local schedules for the weekend. Panic-stricken, we ascertained that the traffic would be such that it would be quickest to stay on the slow subway out to JFK but it would take us the better part of an hour to get there. This was at 7:15. The flight being at 9.

Needless to say, we arrived at the airport to discover checking in was an impossibility, but that $95 would secure a seat on the next flight, leaving at 10:50. An exasperated sigh of relief emanated through the terminal as our apocalyptic fate was whisked from our shoulders. Ruby would return home safely that night and arrive in time to rest for her crucial university interview on Tuesday. Having seen my charge through security, I returned to Queens exhausted, my lesson learnt and already feeling the pain of missing her.

Sorry you couldn’t stay with us longer, I hope it was worth it. I’ll see you sooner than you think. <3

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