had a couple of drinks with two randoms my last night in boston. richard, 27, from switzerland, ran a business offering overseas language courses. his mannerisms reminded me of dunno. tania, 22, from chile, is a teacher here on a booking buying spree. we had a good three hours, drinking, smoking, talking about the state of the universe.
i have been mostly vege-ing out this time around nyc, being a blob on the couches at the hostel, reading a tom clancy thriller, thinking, dozing. went on a walking tour of greenwich and east villiage yesterday. the guide, evan, is a middle-aged bronx native with a goatee and ponytail. very trippy.
white stripes at madison square garden was 4/5. could hardly have been further away from the stage, but at least i was dead in front and had a clear view, luckily with no tall dicks standing in front of me. meg's singing was off, the intriguing turns of her voice missing, as if she was too tired/drunk/sick to try. jack was manic, red, glorious. their use of colour, lights and shadow on the stage was magnificent as expected, and the disco light was out of this world. they took a ten minute interval, and the audience cheered through the whole thing, flicking little blue glowsticks across the darkness. it was surreal.
flying out today. willing be a long twenty-four hours. sigh. i hate flying.
25.7.07
22.7.07
boston
jfk museum
this turned out to be a very inspiring place. jfk's story was inherently magnetic, of course, and there is no question at all that jackie was the most beautiful woman of her time. the exhibits were well set-up, and the architecture was interesting, too. the wonderful view of the water from the glass pavillion, at the end of the exhibits, was perfect. it left me in a contemplative and peaceful mood. im glad they didnt sink to the level of the conspiracy theorists and dwell on the assassination.
museum of fine art, boston
another place being renovated. to be honest, i expected a bit more from the experience. perhaps im a bit spoilt after the wonderful collections in the previous three cities. the edward hopper exhibition was very crowded. but without a doubt he is a real master: i love how his watercolours look like oils, and his oils look like watercolours. they are incredible.
harvard
both the museum of natural history and the art museums were very good collections of manageable size that i could get through without becoming bored or exhausted. for an hour or so i wandered around the harvard yard and getting semi-lost in the winding streets. there were teenagers arriving with their parents in tow and luggage: isn't a bit early for new students to be arriving? the place reminds me a lot of parkville. obviously the buildings were a bit older and, well, it is harvard, after all...
freedom trail
a good walk around historic boston. once again, the architecture is what entertained me the most. so many different colours! why is melbourne and ballarat so grey? the narrow and winding streets was a very welcome change after the rigid grids of the previous three cities.
this turned out to be a very inspiring place. jfk's story was inherently magnetic, of course, and there is no question at all that jackie was the most beautiful woman of her time. the exhibits were well set-up, and the architecture was interesting, too. the wonderful view of the water from the glass pavillion, at the end of the exhibits, was perfect. it left me in a contemplative and peaceful mood. im glad they didnt sink to the level of the conspiracy theorists and dwell on the assassination.
museum of fine art, boston
another place being renovated. to be honest, i expected a bit more from the experience. perhaps im a bit spoilt after the wonderful collections in the previous three cities. the edward hopper exhibition was very crowded. but without a doubt he is a real master: i love how his watercolours look like oils, and his oils look like watercolours. they are incredible.
harvard
both the museum of natural history and the art museums were very good collections of manageable size that i could get through without becoming bored or exhausted. for an hour or so i wandered around the harvard yard and getting semi-lost in the winding streets. there were teenagers arriving with their parents in tow and luggage: isn't a bit early for new students to be arriving? the place reminds me a lot of parkville. obviously the buildings were a bit older and, well, it is harvard, after all...
freedom trail
a good walk around historic boston. once again, the architecture is what entertained me the most. so many different colours! why is melbourne and ballarat so grey? the narrow and winding streets was a very welcome change after the rigid grids of the previous three cities.
19.7.07
philadelphia
the streets of philadelphia are unlike those of new york (exhaust-choked jungle of steel and glass) or dc (neoclassical marbled monoliths). the beautiful two-hundred odd-years-old buildings are juxtaposed against modern skyscrapers, but instead of competing, they seem to complement each other. even the condition of the roads is better (however, the traffic continues to be disgusting). i feel much more at ease in this town. nevertheless, i remain undeniably in america. the droves of homeless in parks, for one, are just as prominent as nyc and dc.
the rodin museum houses a collection of his sculptures. i think the gates of hell would've been much more impressive if it had been cast two or three times bigger. rodin certain does beautiful hands. more rodin sculptures are found in the nearby philadelphia museum of arts. this place is somewhere between brooklyn museum of arts and the met. van gogh's sunflowers is here. the real thing seems less vibrant as the prints, somehow. but the host of cezannes, renoirs and monets are fabulous. upstairs are various rooms beautifully decorated: a japanese tea garden, a hindu temple, a chinese temple, a qing-dynasty room, fransciscan monastery, 16th/17th/18th/19th century european interiors etc. a marvellous few hours.
also interesting was the eastern state penitentiary (ie prison), a decaying ruin abandoned after 141 years of holding prisoners in solitary confinement. even in the 30-degree heat it felt damp and eerie. the thirty foot walls seemed silent and solemn, as if reluctant to speak of the suffering they have witnessed.
before i left dc, somehow, bec and i managed to catch up for dinner. it was another instance when shit just comes together. it was wonderful, sitting in the mild breeze by the potomac, talking, listening, just being.
the rodin museum houses a collection of his sculptures. i think the gates of hell would've been much more impressive if it had been cast two or three times bigger. rodin certain does beautiful hands. more rodin sculptures are found in the nearby philadelphia museum of arts. this place is somewhere between brooklyn museum of arts and the met. van gogh's sunflowers is here. the real thing seems less vibrant as the prints, somehow. but the host of cezannes, renoirs and monets are fabulous. upstairs are various rooms beautifully decorated: a japanese tea garden, a hindu temple, a chinese temple, a qing-dynasty room, fransciscan monastery, 16th/17th/18th/19th century european interiors etc. a marvellous few hours.
also interesting was the eastern state penitentiary (ie prison), a decaying ruin abandoned after 141 years of holding prisoners in solitary confinement. even in the 30-degree heat it felt damp and eerie. the thirty foot walls seemed silent and solemn, as if reluctant to speak of the suffering they have witnessed.
before i left dc, somehow, bec and i managed to catch up for dinner. it was another instance when shit just comes together. it was wonderful, sitting in the mild breeze by the potomac, talking, listening, just being.
16.7.07
a modern-day athens
national portrait gallery and smithsonian gallery of american art
this is a fascinating place that took me three afternoons to get through. images (photographs, busts, paintings, etc) of significant americans and their stories. the painting of jfk in green and yellow is perfect. it's a pity the gallery shop had such terrible prints.
the phillips collection
i think of this as the twin of the fricks collection in new york. the building itself isn't anywhere near as excellent as the fricks, but the artwork possibly surpasses it. you know that renoir painting of all those young people around a table? the prints are everywhere. well, the real thing is here, along with van goghs, monets, rothkos, etc. its just superb!
capitol, white house, supreme court, washington monument, lincoln memorial
just a bunch of neoclassical marbled monoliths stuffed inside full of statues and enormous paintings about washington and lincoln et al. i guess they are obligatory to visit. but the queues are just not worth it. the lincoln memorial reminds me of chiang kai shek's equivalent in taipei. except cks gets a tough looking guard with a dress uniform and rifle, and lincoln gets a couple of fat american cops chewing gum and loungeing about.
library of congress
what started out as a place to dump my bag (the cloakroom here saved me from dumping my bag in the bin while i went on a tour of the capitol building) turned out to be much, much more. the murals and frescos were worth the half-an-hour tour. the main reading room, which you can look at from the landing, is intricately decorated - if a bit over the top.
national gallery of art
like the metropolitan museum of art in new york, but less crowded. fewer picassos and monets, but more cezanne, sisley, renoirs etc. overall, i thought it was far more pleasant that the met. and, would you believe it, the section on eighteenth and nineteenth century european painting was being renovated. just my luck.
freer and arther sacks galleries, hirshhorn gallery, national museum of natural history
interesting places to spend a few hours. the gem collection at the latter is pretty popular, and to be honest, quite spectacular, with its tiffany diamonds and the hope diamond.
hamlet @ shakespeare theatre
hamlet was a touch overdone, gertrude was terrible, phelia was sensational. i enjoyed it immensely. for a tragedy though, it was rather funny. and the american accents just didn't seem right for the bard...
u-street walkabout
my lonely planet guide was beating its drum about this neighbourhood being the essense of culture and cool in dc, so i went for a look. the narrow, fairytale tower-like houses crowded together, painted in dark red or browns or blues or creams reminded me of brooklyn; trees clothed with their leaves green in all the glory of summer; soft tinkling piano and jazz bass floated out of bar doorways with the air-conditioned cool. it was wonderful. it was also really weird, with so many black dudes loungeing about the sidewalk, rattling their cups, asking for money.
dupont circle walkabout
much more than the phillips collection, this area (especially along massachusetts and connecticut avenues) has dreamy architecture and flags of the world hang in front of all the embassies. i also stumbled across the woodrow wilson house, where he lived for the three years after his presidency until his death. for a history buff, it was fascinating. the museum guides are very passionate about their favourite topic. some might even say fanatical, in that sweaty-palmed, glassy-eyed, role-playing kind of way. creepy but cool.
this is a fascinating place that took me three afternoons to get through. images (photographs, busts, paintings, etc) of significant americans and their stories. the painting of jfk in green and yellow is perfect. it's a pity the gallery shop had such terrible prints.
the phillips collection
i think of this as the twin of the fricks collection in new york. the building itself isn't anywhere near as excellent as the fricks, but the artwork possibly surpasses it. you know that renoir painting of all those young people around a table? the prints are everywhere. well, the real thing is here, along with van goghs, monets, rothkos, etc. its just superb!
capitol, white house, supreme court, washington monument, lincoln memorial
just a bunch of neoclassical marbled monoliths stuffed inside full of statues and enormous paintings about washington and lincoln et al. i guess they are obligatory to visit. but the queues are just not worth it. the lincoln memorial reminds me of chiang kai shek's equivalent in taipei. except cks gets a tough looking guard with a dress uniform and rifle, and lincoln gets a couple of fat american cops chewing gum and loungeing about.
library of congress
what started out as a place to dump my bag (the cloakroom here saved me from dumping my bag in the bin while i went on a tour of the capitol building) turned out to be much, much more. the murals and frescos were worth the half-an-hour tour. the main reading room, which you can look at from the landing, is intricately decorated - if a bit over the top.
national gallery of art
like the metropolitan museum of art in new york, but less crowded. fewer picassos and monets, but more cezanne, sisley, renoirs etc. overall, i thought it was far more pleasant that the met. and, would you believe it, the section on eighteenth and nineteenth century european painting was being renovated. just my luck.
freer and arther sacks galleries, hirshhorn gallery, national museum of natural history
interesting places to spend a few hours. the gem collection at the latter is pretty popular, and to be honest, quite spectacular, with its tiffany diamonds and the hope diamond.
hamlet @ shakespeare theatre
hamlet was a touch overdone, gertrude was terrible, phelia was sensational. i enjoyed it immensely. for a tragedy though, it was rather funny. and the american accents just didn't seem right for the bard...
u-street walkabout
my lonely planet guide was beating its drum about this neighbourhood being the essense of culture and cool in dc, so i went for a look. the narrow, fairytale tower-like houses crowded together, painted in dark red or browns or blues or creams reminded me of brooklyn; trees clothed with their leaves green in all the glory of summer; soft tinkling piano and jazz bass floated out of bar doorways with the air-conditioned cool. it was wonderful. it was also really weird, with so many black dudes loungeing about the sidewalk, rattling their cups, asking for money.
dupont circle walkabout
much more than the phillips collection, this area (especially along massachusetts and connecticut avenues) has dreamy architecture and flags of the world hang in front of all the embassies. i also stumbled across the woodrow wilson house, where he lived for the three years after his presidency until his death. for a history buff, it was fascinating. the museum guides are very passionate about their favourite topic. some might even say fanatical, in that sweaty-palmed, glassy-eyed, role-playing kind of way. creepy but cool.
14.7.07
city of the dead
the wide clean streets of washington are deserted in strips at night. the homeless dot the landscape. gangs of whites and blacks huddle around the few lighted areas. by day, in the harsh july sun, droves of tourists roam in the stifling heat. the city feels sterile. soul-less. full of malaise. i hate it. and yet my little lonely planets guide paints a picture of town filled with power and passion. that may be so in the monolithic air-conditioned federal office corridors, but out here on the pavement, there is only the walking dead.
it had been at the back of my mind, but contrast with my present surroundings has thrusted it forward in my consciousness. new york city is like a living organism. there is always construction and renovations and areas of decay. new yorkers busy about their lives, giving their city a relentless pulse. its energy is contagious. you either breath it in and immerse yourself in it, or it overwhelms you and you drown.
i am always exhausted at the end of the day. some of it, i know, has to do with the heat and the humidity. but america and americans grate my nerve raw. someone once described them as a powerful child. there is truth in this allusion. industrious, hopeful, intelligent, beautiful, full with energy and talent and ability. but just because everything is possible doesn't mean that everything is good. there is so much cruelty in their ignorance.
no, this is unfair. it's not just the americans. but more seem to have crossed my path these past few days. it is simply that these people are inconsiderate. inconsiderate people drive me nuts. i want to shoot them all and make them suffer. i wish i had the point-of-view gun!
it had been at the back of my mind, but contrast with my present surroundings has thrusted it forward in my consciousness. new york city is like a living organism. there is always construction and renovations and areas of decay. new yorkers busy about their lives, giving their city a relentless pulse. its energy is contagious. you either breath it in and immerse yourself in it, or it overwhelms you and you drown.
i am always exhausted at the end of the day. some of it, i know, has to do with the heat and the humidity. but america and americans grate my nerve raw. someone once described them as a powerful child. there is truth in this allusion. industrious, hopeful, intelligent, beautiful, full with energy and talent and ability. but just because everything is possible doesn't mean that everything is good. there is so much cruelty in their ignorance.
no, this is unfair. it's not just the americans. but more seem to have crossed my path these past few days. it is simply that these people are inconsiderate. inconsiderate people drive me nuts. i want to shoot them all and make them suffer. i wish i had the point-of-view gun!
13.7.07
leaving new york city
harbour cruise
this was definitely one of the highlight of my trip. because i forgot to bring my watch, i had to wait at the pier for an hour before we could actually get on the boat. however, this meant i got a really good seat on the packed boat, behind this one chick with insolent, sexy eyes and a killer southern accent, and a couple of seats from an angellic french teenager with a body made for sin. *drool* to top off the good views, the cruise was narrated by this comedian who sounded just like seinfeld! fabulous.
the frick collection
together with brooklyn and the guggenheim, this is another one of the rare few really cool places in new york city. the paintings and statues (bronzes, marbles and even a terracotta diana) were splendid, set in a gorgeous house with impeccable interior decorations. must say though, i wouldn't enjoy living in a place like that: wouldn't be able to leave a mess without scores of minions to clean up after me. and i'd probably feel too lonely.
the whitney museum of american art
different. a poor man's guggenheim. isn't quite worth the $15 admission. the most interesting exhibit was about the hippy phenomenon in the sixties (that, incidentally, was free). a few other cool paintings round off a rather strange collection.
random pub in little italy
had grand plans but then it rained. did the only sensible thing and dived into a random pub. sank a few brews with a bloke called michael, who turned out to be fascinated with asia, and disturbingly probably knows more about taiwan than i do.
train ride to washington
the seats were surprisingly roomy. read and dozed in the sun. not really any good scenery along the way. just little and big towns dotting the countryside. a good way to travel, to think.
this was definitely one of the highlight of my trip. because i forgot to bring my watch, i had to wait at the pier for an hour before we could actually get on the boat. however, this meant i got a really good seat on the packed boat, behind this one chick with insolent, sexy eyes and a killer southern accent, and a couple of seats from an angellic french teenager with a body made for sin. *drool* to top off the good views, the cruise was narrated by this comedian who sounded just like seinfeld! fabulous.
the frick collection
together with brooklyn and the guggenheim, this is another one of the rare few really cool places in new york city. the paintings and statues (bronzes, marbles and even a terracotta diana) were splendid, set in a gorgeous house with impeccable interior decorations. must say though, i wouldn't enjoy living in a place like that: wouldn't be able to leave a mess without scores of minions to clean up after me. and i'd probably feel too lonely.
the whitney museum of american art
different. a poor man's guggenheim. isn't quite worth the $15 admission. the most interesting exhibit was about the hippy phenomenon in the sixties (that, incidentally, was free). a few other cool paintings round off a rather strange collection.
random pub in little italy
had grand plans but then it rained. did the only sensible thing and dived into a random pub. sank a few brews with a bloke called michael, who turned out to be fascinated with asia, and disturbingly probably knows more about taiwan than i do.
train ride to washington
the seats were surprisingly roomy. read and dozed in the sun. not really any good scenery along the way. just little and big towns dotting the countryside. a good way to travel, to think.
11.7.07
new york culture update #3
brooklyn: the coolest borough of them all
walking over the brooklyn bridge, wandering around the tree-lined streets named after fruits, surrounded by beautiful architecture and cool deserted streets: there's no doubt i'd rather be here than the lunacy of manhattan. even the people seem cooler (unlike those in the east village, who are just plain weird). the brooklyn museum of art: no crowds, beautiful pictures, nice ambience. bloody awesome.
harlem
i doubt i would have ever ventured out here on my own. luckily some bearded dude hungover from the sixties did a walking tour straight from the hostel. it was hot and dirty, but mostly worthwhile. i think. we meandered through big empty streets and lush dirty parks littered with crack cocaine containers and baggies: apparently a significant improvement from the days past when cocaine vials crunched underfoot. far out.
lincoln centre
saw cinderella (american ballaet theatre) at the metropolitan opera house. i was right up the top, in the family circle (think hamer hall, near the roof). i know what you're thinking: ballet?! look, whatever, it wasn't too bad. it was dance. i like dancing. we had something in common. and nice music to go with the whole thing as well. i would probably go again. you know what they say about traveling changing people...
museum of modern art, metropolitan museum of art
i'm lumping these two together because they are basically the same: enormous, cumbersome, crowded places filled with way too many picassos and renoirs and rocks from egypt. i think its the congestion of people that really get to me. and the rude suited security guys really piss me off. and the fact they keep roping off sections for no apparent reason. and the museum shops at the end of all the exhibits with selling overpriced crap and filled with obese people with annoying accents blocking the well-hidden exits. AARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!! gimme brooklyn anytime.
guggenheim museum
now this place is something else entirely. for me, its second only to brooklyn in the coolness factor. i even spent way too much money on a print and big fuck-off tube to carry it around in. i have no idea how im going to cope lugging it around the country and on to the plane etc etc. ironically, one of the pieces in the museum told us: the more we own, the less free we are: aint that the truth! but, im getting ahed of myself. first of all, the building itself. i know it's been talked about to death but it is absolutely magnificent. and the art inside, not just pictures (although there were plenty of those) but installations too, were really exciting. finally, i don't know if i was just early or lucky, but it wasn't particularly crowded. i got a bit carried away...
fifth avenue walkabout
in my post-guggenheim ecstacy i decided to wander down fifth avenue from the 103rd street, hang a left at the 42nd, check out the united nations building, then take in east village and chinatown. after walking about 150 blocks later, i realised it was a bad idea, but by then i had very sore feet and not much of a mental capacity left.
midtown along the fifth avenue is like wall street, but feels like a dusty, exhaust-choked wasteland in the guise of capitalist paradise. there were plenty of expensive shops, countless brightly dressed young women (why don't australian girls like wearing short semi-transparent dresses? they all do here! drool...) but it was about 35 degrees and a string of sirens went past, eleven police cars at one count. it felt like i was in an absurd play, everything was warping at the edges, then...
the air-conditioned grandeur of the grand central terminal. once again, like all american things, this place is bloody huge. 130+ tracks? spencer street, eat your heart out! but, like all american things, it felt coarse around the edges. massive domes left undecorated. elaborate archways leading to drab concrete tunnels. beautiful marbled floors but litter everywhere. basically, the whole vibe of the place was cheap. what a shame.
after several more hazy streets filled with car horns and angry vendors selling hotdogs and pretzels, finally, the relative cool of the united nations building. there was a queue for a tour of the place, which cost thirteen bucks. but the line was moving at sloth-pace so i turned around and headed south instead. but cbgb was no longer there, graffiti on the walls said our world was a little darker, but all i wanted was a cool drink and a little shade. stumbled onwards deeper into east village. it was a strangely wonderful place being slowly eroded by relentless waves of commercialisation. what was that tom petty song? there was even a cbgb souvenir shop. it was all wrong, but the red and brown buildings were really captivating.
finally, i was in chinatown. it sprawled like a crumbling guargantuan. by this time i had been reduced to a mindless savage. thoughts of food, shade and sleep took over my entire consciousness. the first was easy to come by in an area occupied by the chinese. it was unsurprisingly cheap as well. but the second required more dragging of tired feet across town. finally, i was inside an air-conditioned train shooting north back towards the hostel.
walking over the brooklyn bridge, wandering around the tree-lined streets named after fruits, surrounded by beautiful architecture and cool deserted streets: there's no doubt i'd rather be here than the lunacy of manhattan. even the people seem cooler (unlike those in the east village, who are just plain weird). the brooklyn museum of art: no crowds, beautiful pictures, nice ambience. bloody awesome.
harlem
i doubt i would have ever ventured out here on my own. luckily some bearded dude hungover from the sixties did a walking tour straight from the hostel. it was hot and dirty, but mostly worthwhile. i think. we meandered through big empty streets and lush dirty parks littered with crack cocaine containers and baggies: apparently a significant improvement from the days past when cocaine vials crunched underfoot. far out.
lincoln centre
saw cinderella (american ballaet theatre) at the metropolitan opera house. i was right up the top, in the family circle (think hamer hall, near the roof). i know what you're thinking: ballet?! look, whatever, it wasn't too bad. it was dance. i like dancing. we had something in common. and nice music to go with the whole thing as well. i would probably go again. you know what they say about traveling changing people...
museum of modern art, metropolitan museum of art
i'm lumping these two together because they are basically the same: enormous, cumbersome, crowded places filled with way too many picassos and renoirs and rocks from egypt. i think its the congestion of people that really get to me. and the rude suited security guys really piss me off. and the fact they keep roping off sections for no apparent reason. and the museum shops at the end of all the exhibits with selling overpriced crap and filled with obese people with annoying accents blocking the well-hidden exits. AARRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!! gimme brooklyn anytime.
guggenheim museum
now this place is something else entirely. for me, its second only to brooklyn in the coolness factor. i even spent way too much money on a print and big fuck-off tube to carry it around in. i have no idea how im going to cope lugging it around the country and on to the plane etc etc. ironically, one of the pieces in the museum told us: the more we own, the less free we are: aint that the truth! but, im getting ahed of myself. first of all, the building itself. i know it's been talked about to death but it is absolutely magnificent. and the art inside, not just pictures (although there were plenty of those) but installations too, were really exciting. finally, i don't know if i was just early or lucky, but it wasn't particularly crowded. i got a bit carried away...
fifth avenue walkabout
in my post-guggenheim ecstacy i decided to wander down fifth avenue from the 103rd street, hang a left at the 42nd, check out the united nations building, then take in east village and chinatown. after walking about 150 blocks later, i realised it was a bad idea, but by then i had very sore feet and not much of a mental capacity left.
midtown along the fifth avenue is like wall street, but feels like a dusty, exhaust-choked wasteland in the guise of capitalist paradise. there were plenty of expensive shops, countless brightly dressed young women (why don't australian girls like wearing short semi-transparent dresses? they all do here! drool...) but it was about 35 degrees and a string of sirens went past, eleven police cars at one count. it felt like i was in an absurd play, everything was warping at the edges, then...
the air-conditioned grandeur of the grand central terminal. once again, like all american things, this place is bloody huge. 130+ tracks? spencer street, eat your heart out! but, like all american things, it felt coarse around the edges. massive domes left undecorated. elaborate archways leading to drab concrete tunnels. beautiful marbled floors but litter everywhere. basically, the whole vibe of the place was cheap. what a shame.
after several more hazy streets filled with car horns and angry vendors selling hotdogs and pretzels, finally, the relative cool of the united nations building. there was a queue for a tour of the place, which cost thirteen bucks. but the line was moving at sloth-pace so i turned around and headed south instead. but cbgb was no longer there, graffiti on the walls said our world was a little darker, but all i wanted was a cool drink and a little shade. stumbled onwards deeper into east village. it was a strangely wonderful place being slowly eroded by relentless waves of commercialisation. what was that tom petty song? there was even a cbgb souvenir shop. it was all wrong, but the red and brown buildings were really captivating.
finally, i was in chinatown. it sprawled like a crumbling guargantuan. by this time i had been reduced to a mindless savage. thoughts of food, shade and sleep took over my entire consciousness. the first was easy to come by in an area occupied by the chinese. it was unsurprisingly cheap as well. but the second required more dragging of tired feet across town. finally, i was inside an air-conditioned train shooting north back towards the hostel.
9.7.07
new york culture update #2
american museum of natural history
this is the real deal: they use real dinosaur bones in their reconstruction, not casts. the four floor monolith is incredible, and i struggled to see everything in one day. i suggest two days if you have kids in tow, or you're a kid yourself. and start on the fourth floor so you don't skimp on the dinosaurs. my word they are impressive! i also found out what badgers and racoons actually look like at last. totally worth the sore legs and the effort required to gently shovel little screaming children out of my way.
rent @ the nederlander theatre
three of the regular casts were out for the night. the understudies started shakily but warmed up quickly, such that by the end of the first act, the applauses began to feel deserved rather than polite. to be honest, i've never been one to harp about musicals, but at the end of it all, i was left less than impressed: is this the best america has to offer? isn't broadway the crown of western theatre? perhaps i should've checked out spamalot, phantom of the opera or even les mis instead...
liberty and ellis islands
it is worth getting up early so you're down at castle clinton to get your ferry tickets by 9am. the number 1 train is nice and slow (stops at all the stops) and the queue was already getting out of control by the time the first ferry was off. the statue of liberty was pretty cool, all things considered. but don't bother with ellis island: it's just a big empty building. full of history, yes; worth lining up for the ferry back to manhattan, a most definite no.
wall street
this place is phenomenal. it exceeded all my expectations. so many beautiful, tall, old buildings! i spent a good hour wandering around aimlessly looking up, always up. afterwards i kept going over the brooklyn bridge, and wandered around brooklyn heights. but i'll leave that story for later.
empire state building
the longest, craziest queue of them all: it curled around itself about three hundred times until finally, an hour and half later, i found myself on the eightieth floor, decidedly not outdoors, definitely not on the observation deck, and far from impressed. luckily, this was just a way for the capitalists to plug an audio-tour and cheesy postcards. the audio-tour is absolutely gold. i would highly recommend you secure tony's services, just to listen to his boo-ti-ful accent. the postcards were duds so i returned them, no thanks!
the view from the eighty-sixth floor was excellent. with tony in tow, i looked in all directions and spent a merry hour or so in the clear summer rays. wish i had brought my buffalo brewery hotel bucket hat with me though, i think i got second degree burns.
this is the real deal: they use real dinosaur bones in their reconstruction, not casts. the four floor monolith is incredible, and i struggled to see everything in one day. i suggest two days if you have kids in tow, or you're a kid yourself. and start on the fourth floor so you don't skimp on the dinosaurs. my word they are impressive! i also found out what badgers and racoons actually look like at last. totally worth the sore legs and the effort required to gently shovel little screaming children out of my way.
rent @ the nederlander theatre
three of the regular casts were out for the night. the understudies started shakily but warmed up quickly, such that by the end of the first act, the applauses began to feel deserved rather than polite. to be honest, i've never been one to harp about musicals, but at the end of it all, i was left less than impressed: is this the best america has to offer? isn't broadway the crown of western theatre? perhaps i should've checked out spamalot, phantom of the opera or even les mis instead...
liberty and ellis islands
it is worth getting up early so you're down at castle clinton to get your ferry tickets by 9am. the number 1 train is nice and slow (stops at all the stops) and the queue was already getting out of control by the time the first ferry was off. the statue of liberty was pretty cool, all things considered. but don't bother with ellis island: it's just a big empty building. full of history, yes; worth lining up for the ferry back to manhattan, a most definite no.
wall street
this place is phenomenal. it exceeded all my expectations. so many beautiful, tall, old buildings! i spent a good hour wandering around aimlessly looking up, always up. afterwards i kept going over the brooklyn bridge, and wandered around brooklyn heights. but i'll leave that story for later.
empire state building
the longest, craziest queue of them all: it curled around itself about three hundred times until finally, an hour and half later, i found myself on the eightieth floor, decidedly not outdoors, definitely not on the observation deck, and far from impressed. luckily, this was just a way for the capitalists to plug an audio-tour and cheesy postcards. the audio-tour is absolutely gold. i would highly recommend you secure tony's services, just to listen to his boo-ti-ful accent. the postcards were duds so i returned them, no thanks!
the view from the eighty-sixth floor was excellent. with tony in tow, i looked in all directions and spent a merry hour or so in the clear summer rays. wish i had brought my buffalo brewery hotel bucket hat with me though, i think i got second degree burns.
8.7.07
new york culture update #1
i have concluded that new yorkers love queues. this is not a coincidence. in a city of eight million people all in a rush, shortages are inevitable. yet there is a need to to maintain a veneer of civil behaviour, hence queues.
for new yorkers, queues reinforce their place in the universe:
their city is screwing them all day, every day.
true new yorkers never complain when they find themselves in a queue:
everyone else is also getting screwed,
so they accept their misfortune with dignity; however,
this is not to say they like queueing up:
if they can pull some strings, call in favours, and get to the head of the line, top of the heap, etc they will: after all, it is the new york way.
for new yorkers, queues reinforce their place in the universe:
their city is screwing them all day, every day.
true new yorkers never complain when they find themselves in a queue:
everyone else is also getting screwed,
so they accept their misfortune with dignity; however,
this is not to say they like queueing up:
if they can pull some strings, call in favours, and get to the head of the line, top of the heap, etc they will: after all, it is the new york way.
7.7.07
first impressions of earth
los angeles international airport is without a doubt the worst place i've ever been to.
ugly non-functional architecture;
american flags every where, so crass and unimaginative;
shuffling, blank people completely demorolised -
a spiritual wasteland.
new york was grey and raining, which reminded me of melbourne and ballarat,
except all the cars were on the other side of the road;
subtle differences in the buildings and the cars and people:
bigger, brighter, more obnoxious, super-real;
the american dream in every gesture and word.
the smell of raw sewerage on the nose, the blast of loud chatter in your face, the heat of the streets against the skin;
the terrible condition of the roads and the horrible drivers using their horns freely -
the garbage on the sidewalks (don't they have bins? don't they recycle?) -
the conscientious lack of eye contact on the subway -
remind of of taiwan.
before the tunnel between queens and manhattan was a field of tombstones.
ugly non-functional architecture;
american flags every where, so crass and unimaginative;
shuffling, blank people completely demorolised -
a spiritual wasteland.
new york was grey and raining, which reminded me of melbourne and ballarat,
except all the cars were on the other side of the road;
subtle differences in the buildings and the cars and people:
bigger, brighter, more obnoxious, super-real;
the american dream in every gesture and word.
the smell of raw sewerage on the nose, the blast of loud chatter in your face, the heat of the streets against the skin;
the terrible condition of the roads and the horrible drivers using their horns freely -
the garbage on the sidewalks (don't they have bins? don't they recycle?) -
the conscientious lack of eye contact on the subway -
remind of of taiwan.
before the tunnel between queens and manhattan was a field of tombstones.
1.7.07
time to go
after forty-two weeks of subacute care, i knocked off work at the qe one last time around 830pm on friday. walking down the ramp, looking back at the flat, sprawling, ugly monolith, a flash of nostalgia quickly quelled. no more overnight on-calls! no more disabled parking permit applications to fill out! im free at last!
but you (think you) know i (think i) love it.
however, this is not just more end-of-rotation rhetoric spurred on by the relief of finishing a physically and emotionally exhausting rotation or the five weeks of annual leave hot on its heels; no, its long past time for me to get back to acute, learn how to put drips in again, dealing with acute nurses, real codes, rushed communications with patients and their families, senior colleagues watching/looking over my back. i dont know. i cant tell. how its going to go. whatever.
home for three days then onwards to nyc. practically a whole twenty-four hours spent on planes and airports. bugger me. i hate flying.
but you (think you) know i (think i) love it.
however, this is not just more end-of-rotation rhetoric spurred on by the relief of finishing a physically and emotionally exhausting rotation or the five weeks of annual leave hot on its heels; no, its long past time for me to get back to acute, learn how to put drips in again, dealing with acute nurses, real codes, rushed communications with patients and their families, senior colleagues watching/looking over my back. i dont know. i cant tell. how its going to go. whatever.
home for three days then onwards to nyc. practically a whole twenty-four hours spent on planes and airports. bugger me. i hate flying.
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