February 1st
Today was my 21st birthday! I’d opened all my presents at home before I left so I didn’t have to bring them all with me, but I had put some of the cards in my case. Special mention has got to go to the masterpiece that was created for me my Louise (@louisejones_x) and Max (@MaxRowleyy). They’d taken a picture of Russell Brand and Katy Perry, and photoshopped my face onto Katy’s body. Despite the fact I looked like Mortisha, we make a beautiful couple. Inside the card was the random scribbling of lunatics and a fake £5 note, but I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. Bless those little rascals.
After a breakfast of waffles, strawberries, and maple syrup, we started to head for Central Park. Well actually, due to someone’s poor map reading skills, we ended up in the depths of Chelsea. Hmm. Jeesh girls, don’t all look at me, WE GOT THERE IN THE END!
Our first glance of Central Park evoked a collective: “Wow!”. It looked like Narnia; the snow was easily 2 foot deep in most places, and some piles were even taller than my 4ft 11 self (although the path all around the park had very efficiently been cleared). The trees - though bare - were snow covered and looked magical, and there were old fashioned street lights that made it more atmospheric. Someone had even made a snowman. It was so cold that our hair froze. Literally, it was stiff (oo-er), and little droplets of water on our bags had also frozen into tiny little ice cubes.
After doing the typically tourist thing of taking endless photos of the same tree but from a slightly different angle (I even took a photo of a bin: a snowed-in bin! HA! Such fun!), suddenly, from nowhere, came ASLAN! Just kidding, it was pedicab guy Alex. After a good 10 minutes of cajoling, and a fair bit of bartering, we found ourselves being tucked up in what can only be described as an oversized pram by Pedicab Guy Alex, and off we set on a tour of Central Park. From a pedicab. Have I mentioned we were in a pedicab?
Luckily, Alex was an actual gem; an opinion that was only reinforced when we went past the Central Park zoo and he started singing “I like to move it move it! I like to - move it!” (that particular zoo was the inspiration for the zoo in Madagascar). We laughed until our cheeks ached. Alex told us loads of interesting things about the park and the surrounding apartments; whilst all that overlook the park are in the million dollar bracket, even they cannot be bought by just anyone. There are some buildings that are deeply rooted in history and tradition, thus they cannot be owned my the nouveau riche celebrity culture, and will only be sold to the long standing elite of New York, such as the Waldorf family. Alex also told us a bit about himself; he is originally from a small island near Russia, but now lives in Brooklyn, and that he came out to work today despite the freezing temps because one of the penthouse apartments overlooking the park had just gone up for sale. Bless him.
We saw, as Alex kept reminding us: “Fountain from TV show Friends!”, which obviously wasn’t running because of the snow, but was still really cool to see, and the infamous arched canopy of trees which was beautiful, and reminded me of countless film/TV show scenes.
I really look forward to going back to Central Park one summer; when the lawns are filled with sun-bathers, and young children and their parents sail toy boats on the large ponds. Sounds idyllic.
From Central Park, we made the short walk to the Upper East Side. If you’re a Gossip Girl fan like myself, you’ll know this was an EXTREMELY EXCITING ENDEAVOUR! (If you’re not a Gossip Girl fan, just take a moment to step outside and re-evaluate your life. Also, maybe skip this paragraph). We saw Park Avenue (“Blair Waldorf: the quintessential Park Avenue Princess”. SCREAM!), and Lexington Avenue, where a lot of the characters are supposed to live, and scenes have been filmed. Every limo that passed I assumed to be carrying Chuck Bass, and every bakery that had pretty pastel coloured macaroons in the window made me come over all Blair. Oh, I loved it.
We went to Bloomingdale’s which was, well… just like Macy’s and Saks: posh and expensive. But it’s where Rachel from Friends worked so it had to be done. We also went to FAO Schwarz, which is undoubtedly The Greatest Toy Shop Of All Time (if you don’t want to take my word for it, it was the toy shop featured in the movie Big!). You were greeted at the door by a man dressed as a toy soldier, and on the right there was a walk-in dome which, when you looked up, was a kaleidoscope. It had Christian Louboutin Barbie dolls, 7ft stuffed giraffes (I really wanted one but doubt it would’ve fit in my hand luggage), and an entire Harry Potter section with hats, wands, and a toy Crookshanks! There were Star Wars characters made entirely of Lego that stood taller than me, and the infamous Big Piano on the second floor - I had to hold myself back from elbowing the little kids off it and playing the Rugrats theme with my feet. It really was a wonderland (until you looked at the price tags).
We were pretty cold after all this walking around in -6 temps, so we hurried back to our hotel (which had not one, but TWO Starbucks in it), and tucked ourselves up in bed with a hot chocolate and cream to thaw out before food and the theatre.
The Gershwin theatre is home Wicked, and we couldn’t have wished for a better introduction to Broadway. We were sat on the second row which made the whole experience ten times more thrilling: we really felt a part of the show. Teal Wicks played Elphaba, and it’s only now that I’ve discovered this was her first performance on Broadway! Which came as a surprise because she was absolutely outstanding and owned the stage; her voice was flawless and the emotion she put into ‘Defying Gravity’ and ‘For Good’ brought tears to my eyes. Katie Rose Clark played Glinda and she was just as fantastic; her movements and comic timing were spot on, Lauren and I are still mimicking some of her quirky little ways - hilarious! “Toss toss!” The costumes and staging were so elaborate and beautiful; everything about the show was just enchanting, and we left with a spring in our step. Go and see Wicked - but only in New York!
February 2nd
Wednesday morning we went straight to the ticket office in out hotel to book tickets for Mamma Mia that night (Broadway is rather irresistible), and then booked a hop-on hop-off bus tour that would take us all around Downtown Manhattan.
We got particularly lucky with our tour guide, Jeff. He was one of those one off kind of guys; a strong, street-wise black man who you could imagine would hold up a bank of an evening, then go home, take off his balaclava and make a lasagne for his wife and kids. He’d steal from the rich and give to the needy. I liked him. He high-fived me, and my reaction was similar to if I’d be high-fived by Snoop Dogg. Henceforth, I walked with a swagger.
Jeff pointed out a few buildings that were worth a mention, such as the Project Runway school, New York University, and the apartment Heath Ledger died in. Boy, did I love Heath and his cheek bones (if he’d still been alive, I’d have been off that bus and up that fire escape in the blink of an eye). That was a bit sad, but appealed to my macabre curiosity.
But most of the trip to Downtown was what I like to call: Useless (But Often Interesting And Educational) Facts With Jeff. Catchy, I know. He told us how to survive in New York on just $40 per day (lol, bless you Jeff babes, you do know there’s a Pandora shop in our hotel, right?).
Jeff’s $40 advice included…
Where to eat: “NOT TIMES SQUARE!” - we ate in Times Square every night. Oops.
Where to buy: “Get a sample sale ticket!” - So no Macy’s then? Oops.
Where to, erm… offload: “Do you know that no hotel in New York city can refuse you use of their bathroom? So if you need to pee, might as well pee in the Plaza!” - Jeff, I commend you!
We hopped off the bus at the Ground Zero stop and headed towards the site of the Twin Towers. I was really conscious of coming across as an ignorant tourist who just wanted to gawp at the place, as though it were a circus; that was never my intention. I think it would be even more ignorant to visit New York and not go to Ground Zero and pay your respects.
Now first off, as expected: no where in New York is quiet. Yet here, although there were still people walking the streets and there was movement and chat, there was a stillness that I didn’t recognise anywhere else in the city. It was as though everyone around the site where the Twin Towers once stood were united in some kind of chilling knowledge, that didn’t need to be spoken - you could feel it in the air. Everyone remembers where they were when they found out about the Twin Towers disaster, as the magnitude of the event forms a flashbulb memory; it was the focus of my A Level Psychology study. I was 11 years old, yet as soon as it is mentioned I can recall images on the TV of billowing smoke, people falling from the buildings, and running down the streets that were being engulfed by dust clouds. I can hear the desperate 911 calls that were played out from people trapped in the buildings. I still feel the same shock - even more so, now I understand it more. Seeing those streets today evoked flash backs to those TV images; the sights and sounds that I’d been fortunate enough to only witness from the safety of my own home, were being played out in my memory as I stood amongst the streets and buildings I recognised from news footage. It was eerie, and none of us spoke while we were there.
They were working on the memorial site while we were there which, when finished, will be an area of around 400 trees, a museum, and two waterfalls filling the void of the buildings, with the names of all the victims inscribed around the side. It’ll be such a moving tribute, and I’ll definitely go and visit. No matter what your beliefs surrounding that day - whether it be that it was purely a hideous act of terrorism, or if the coincidences highlighted by conspiracy theorists arousing governmental suspicions are a bit too convenient to ignore - 9/11 is undoubtedly the most catastrophic and heart-breaking thing to shake New York city. I visited almost 10 years after tragedy, and it still firmly lingered on; the importance of that day and the people lost has never diminished, and rightfully, it never will.
From there, we travelled the fairly short distance that brought us to Brooklyn Bridge, and whilst we had intended on taking the ferry to Liberty Island, it was a particularly foggy day, so the trip wasn’t running due to low visibility. We passed through China Town on our way home (obviously by ‘home’ I mean Times Square. Lovely, homely, Times Square). I think my mother adequately summed up our impression of China Town as we passed one of the restaurants: “URGH! Look how filthy that lobster tank is!”. Quite.
That night after dinner, we went to the Winter Gardens theatre to see Mamma Mia! Although not as sophisticated a production as Wicked, it is pointless trying to fight the huge grin that covers your face throughout the show. It was funny, lively, light-hearted, and feel-good; what more could three girls want from their last night in the Big Apple?! The encore really put the cherry on top; the entire cast came back out in their 70s flares and sparkles and sang Waterloo, Dancing Queen, and Mamma Mia!, while the entire audience got the their feet to sing and dance along. It was fantastic, and so much fun! We practically skipped back to the hotel, for packing and our final night of Lift Adventures. Sob!
February 3rd
Our flight home wasn’t until 8.25pm that night, so we wanted to make the most of our final morning. When Lauren mentioned going to Top of the Rock, I wasn’t all that enthusiastic. As Jeff (our tour guide on the bus) said: “What can you see up there that you can’t see down here?”
Oh Jeff. EVERYTHING! That’s your answer.
I’m so glad Lauren insisted, because the time I spent gazing out at the Manhattan skyline on a crisp blue morning were amongst the most profound moments of my life. I know that sounds very dramatic, and as though I’m a poster-girl for emos world-wide, but it’s true. Between 5th and 6th Avenue, 50th street, on the 74th floor of the Rockefeller Centre, I found my happy place. Central Park stretched out for miles below us, glistening in it’s snow-covered perfection; the Empire State Building stood proud right in front; the Statue of Liberty looked small but significant, just visible in the distance; and everyone in the streets below continued on their daily business, accustomed to the wonders of their city.
It was only when 850 feet in the air that you really reflect on how amazing New York truly is. It is unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been; I’ve written 5000 words about my trip there, but that will never adequately describe how the city makes you feel. Those streets did make me feel brand new, and the bright lights did inspire me. It was busy, diverse, thriving; it offered opportunities, spontaneity and freedom that you wouldn’t get in somewhere as sleepy as North Wales which, albeit beautiful, and my home, is somewhere I think I’ve outgrown now.
And for those moments looking out at, to me, the most exciting place on earth, I didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t care that I had 22,000 words of literary criticism to write when I got home; I didn’t care that I had no idea what I was going to do when I’d finished my degree; I didn’t care that I wanted to lose a stone before I went on holiday but I’d only lost 5lbs. Right then, I was just happy to be here.
Home
The first thing I did when I got home was check my Uni emails from the School of English, the first of which reported a missing flask. Back to reality then. Corrie didn’t pack the same punch as Broadway, and it took me a few days to get accustomed to the fact it was no longer acceptable to eat syrup for breakfast.
I miss New York, and I miss Lauren! After a week in each others constant company we’d managed not to irritate or enrage one another (I couldn’t have done that with all my friends, believe me!); I miss Lift Adventures, going on trips to get ice each night, and just generally messing about like carefree kids again! But even the pressure cooker that is third year and the 2 hour long seminars can be punctuated with a rendition of Voulez-Vous now and again… “This time last week!”.
The plan is to head back to the Big Apple in the autumn of this year. I’m already counting down the days…
:-)
Tuesday 15 February 2011
Saturday 12 February 2011
New York, New York, she took your heart away... (Pt. 1)
When I was 11 years old, our R.E. teacher asked us a series of deep and meaningful questions. One of these questions was “If there was only one place in the world you could visit before you die, where would you go?” See what I mean? Deep. Meaningful.
I didn’t have to think about my answer at all. “New York”, I said. The girl next to me retorted “Ooo, if I could only go to one place in the world, I’d want to go somewhere abroad”. I blinked. I’m not sure where she thought New York was - just past Rhyl, probably.
But the idea of going to New York had always been a dream to me. Everything about it seemed iconic, inspiring, mesmerising - it was the backdrop to films and TV shows, and there had been songs written about it. There has never been a song written about Abergele, North Wales. It was where Miracle on 34th Street was set. I watched Miracle on 34th Street, on average, three times a week during my childhood. Shots of Central Park and Times Square had enchanted me for years - it looked so exciting, and so alive.
Basically, I really fucking wanted to go to New York. It was a place where dreams came true. And I wanted my dreams made true, dammit.
My friend Lauren and I met in the first year of University and quickly bonded over our mutual lack of maturity and enjoyment of the finer things in life: Morrisons chicken curry slices and Heat magazine. We idly talk about going to New York but, as always, thought it was probably one of those passing fancies that would never materialise. Like meeting Russell Brand (*ahem* http://bit.ly/bi9tgg) I mean, it costs thousands to go to New York. Where are two unemployed students going to get thousands of pounds from?
Oh, hello bursary. It’s what David Cameron would’ve wanted, I’m sure.
So in May 2010 we booked to go to NYC on 30th January, 2011 - we’d be there for my 21st birthday. And so, the countdown began…
January 26th, 27th, 28th
I’m going to give you a sample of some of the texts that were flying back and forth between myself and Lauren. We were a little excited.
L: I’m sat grinning over my chicken soup, thinking about this time next week!
Me: I’m absolutely bouncing now! 3 sleeps until it all kicks off! Eeeeeeek!!!!!
L: Two more sleeps until Saturday! It’s happening Amy!!!!!
Me: I’m hyperventilating while my mum pours Kalms down my throat!
L: I’m doing my washing and ironing: ‘Next time I wear you I’ll be in New York effing city!!!!’
Me: I do that too! And when I have a shower before I go I’ll think ‘Next time I have a shower I’ll be in New York… Next time I have a wee…’ etc etc.
L: Are you not going to shower or use the loo between now and New York?!
Me: Nooooo!
L: I’m buzzing with excitement! People are phoning to tell me to have a great time, I feel like a celebrity!
Me: I feel physically sick with excitement! I have an erratic heart beat!
This went on for quite a while. We also got very exclamation happy. !!!!!! OMG !!!!!!
Saturday 29th
We had a direct flight from Manchester to JFK at 10am Sunday morning, so the night before we went to stay in a Travelodge closer to the airport. Just somewhere to put our head down for the night. HAHAHA oh if only.
First though, we dumped our luggage and went out with my lovely family: Emma, Shaun, Ellis, Finn, my aunt, uncle and mum. We had a delish meal and I was allowed to open my birthday present from Emma & Co (like Tiffany & Co, innit) early so they could gauge my reaction. It was a Pandora ring and it is beautiful! Silver and topaz, I love it to bits.
We wanted to get to bed early because Shaun was picking us up to take us to the airport at 6am, so we were tucked up by about 9pm.
This was until our friendly neighbourhood chavs in the room across the corridor started getting ready for their night out, which involved blasting Rihanna’s ‘S&M’ on repeat for 2 solid hours and shouting things like *in thick scouse accent* “Morgan, where’s my fucking eyelashes? You do this every time!”.
Then they went out dressed in an outfit fit for a gypsy and we finally got a little sleep. Until they returned at some un-Godly hour running down the corridors screaming and banging on all the doors on the way. We had to get up early anyway so we just cut our losses and started getting ready, while listening at the door to the drink-fuelled chats that were going on outside:
*thick scouse accent*
“Charlottte, why are you crying?”
“I can’t tell you! I can’t tell anybody!”
“Whatever it is Charlotte, you can fucking tell me!”
Yeah tell her Charlotte! Go on! I’m a bit of a nosey bitch!
Sunday 30th
So we were up at 3am (THREE. AY. EM.) because of Morgan and Charlotte’s Jezza Kyle style dramas, but we were too giddy to even care. Nothing could piss on our parade that day. Direct quote from Lauren “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy at 3 o’clock in the morning!” - I hear ya sister.
We arrived at the airport to a pretty aggressive security guy whose questions went a little something like this: “When did you pack your case? Has it been with you since then? Has anyone asked you to put something in your case? What is the purpose of your trip? You don’t look 21. Are you carrying any fire arms?”. STFU dude, so I have a face like a Cabbage Patch kid, I’m still 21. And would I tell you if I was carrying fire arms? Seriously? I hope you don’t just take people’s word for it.
But anyway, don’t you just love taking off? I do. It was a really smooth 8 hour flight, and we were given loads of nice food. Yes, plane food that was NICE! And unlimited drinks, all of it free. Don’t mind if I do. *knocks back orange juice, on the rocks no less* The air stewards were all American and lovely and “oh, you girls!”. I got a bit fixated with the ‘track your flight’ thing on the TV in front, and just watched the plane go over the Atlantic ocean for a considerable amount of the journey (in between watching Glee, Easy A, and playing a game with a fish but my fish kept dying and I had no idea why). Lauren and I found much amusement in the names of places we flew past, such as ‘Happy Valley Goose Bay’. That is a real place, guys. And then before we knew it, we were in NEWWW YOOOOORK! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MAAAADE OOOOF! We had an eye scan and finger prints taken just incase we turned out to be crack-a-lacka-mental and then we were on our way to our hotel!
We were staying at the Marriott Marquis right in the centre of Times Square - the closer we got, the more excited I became. It was 8pm UK time (3pm NY time) when we arrived at the hotel - we were tired and felt a bit grubby after just sitting for all that time but Oh. My. Life. The hotel was amaze. The glass elevators! The massive room! The Times Square view! First thing Lauren and I did was jump on the beds, natch. When I spotted a magazine on our coffee table with Ed Westwick on the cover, I really knew we’d hit the jackpot. We quickly unpacked and headed straight for the bright lights!
Times Square was completely overwhelming at first. I’d never been somewhere so… tall. It was so strange being surrounded by massive billboards and lights that I’d seen in so many photographs, to then be there amongst it all. It seemed a bit surreal. The shops were all taken to the extreme, par exemple: Toys R Us had a 60ft ferris wheel smack bang in the centre. M&M World had about 50 different colours of M&Ms to choose from, literally.
We walked into a huge Disney Store and an American girl screeched “I love your hat, that is SO CUTE!”. Ha, erm, thanks! (After about the 5th variation of the same hat compliment, we came to the conclusion that America could really benefit from an Accessorize). We ate at one of the many McDonald’s while Piers Morgan stared at us through the second floor window (from a billboard, not in a peeping Tom kind of way).
Bear in mind, I live in North Wales. My nearest Starbucks is a 45min drive away. My mind was being BLOWN. By 8pm NY time we’d been up for 22 hours and felt a little dizzy surrounded by all this razzmatazz, so we head for the hotel and I went straight to sleep, feeling a little out of my depth in the big city…
Monday 31st
However, by the following afternoon I was waltzing round like Jenny from the freakin’ Block. I made myself right at home - we quickly learned our avenues from our streets and just generally got stuck in. We were on 7th and 45th, and were heading for 5th and 34th, and internally I was screaming with excitement because I finally knew what that meant. I was walking the streets of New York! You’ll never understand how much all this meant to me!
We hit all the big shops on 5th Ave: Saks, where mum bought Marc Jacobs perfume, and Macy’s, where I bought a Juicy Couture watch with some of my birthday dollars. I got 10% off because I was an international customer, and was treated like royalty. “21 years old… wow. You have your whole life ahead of you, the world is your oyster! I like your hat”.
We went to the Juicy Couture shop, which was set out as you would imagine a 12 year old girl would decorate her bedroom. Big, plush throne type chairs with gold arms; floral wallpaper; a wide, spiral staircase; large ornaments of dogs that had been positioned to look like they were wearing jewels and carrying handbags; every visible colour was somewhere on the magenta spectrum. Naturally, I loved it.
We also went to American Girl Place, after a lovely lady in Saks had raved about it. Holy hell, that’s a creepy shop! I can imagine it would’ve been a vision of heaven for most little girls, but blimey. Just dolls. Dolls EVERYWHERE! Every variation of skin tone, hair colour, hair length, and eye colour you could imagine. Doll sized outfits and child sized outfits hung side by side on the rails, so that the two could match. The doll could be dressed as a nurse, or a surfer, or own a clarinet, or a poodle; whatever your heart desired. You could even fit the doll with a voice box, if you wanted it to talk. Now, if you grew up in the nineties, there’s a good chance that you watched Sabrina the Teenage Witch. And if you’re anything like me, the immortal line “I’m a Molly dolly, and I’m gonna get you” ricocheted around your head at night when everyone else was asleep. That’s all I’m saying…
We saw the New York Library, which was very grand and imposing, if a little snooty (you had to have your bags checked before you went in and out. It’s a LIBRARY! I’m not that desperate for the latest Biff ‘n’ Chip!). It was a beautiful building though, as are lot of the building’s in the city. I haven’t seen the same architectural magic around here as I did in New York: buildings that make you stop in the middle of a busy street, just to stare at them. Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in particular had that effect on me - mesmerising in it’s intricacy.
But from Catholics to cupcakes, our next stop was ‘Crumbs’, a lovely, sugary little cafe that sold homemade cupcakes the size of three of my clenched fists put together. The decision of which one to have was nothing short of agonising. (I had two over the course of my trip: a chocolate covered strawberry cupcake, and a Hershey’s peanut butter cupcake. Just in case you were wondering…).
I’m trying my best to refrain from describing every meal we ate, in detail, but it was all delicious and came in portions sizes that would feed the whole of Anglesey. We ate in Junior's and it had photographs in the loos of celebrities who had eaten there. Any meatballs that are good enough for Adam Sandler are good enough for me.
That evening we spent a while amusing ourselves with our favourite shops on Times Square, namely Godiva, which sold the most beautiful chocolates, and had girls carrying them around on platters: “Would you like to try our chocolate strawberry fondant?”. Don’t mind if I do. They either had short term memory loss or were particularly generous, as they soon came around again. We all had one hand full of chocolate bars but, as Lauren diplomatically put it as she grabbed another free sample: “Just to double check…”. We also bought a cone of chocolate covered strawberries for night time nibbles. How posh.
Sephora was paradise for perfume and make-up loves, i.e. ME! We must have spent an hour and a half in there; spritzing, glossing, trying a different nail varnish on each finger. We spent so much they gave us a Sephora card which entitled us to a free gift every $100 spent; this involved filling in our details, and when the lady at the till saw that it was my birthday the next day she was all “GUUURRRRLLL! It’s your birthday tomorrow! You can have your gift today!” and gave me some lovely bath stuff that had ‘Happy birthday, beautiful!’ written on it. N’aww.
Back at the hotel, Lauren and I went on our Lift Adventures; we went to the 48th floor, and back down again, just because glass elevators are now and will forever remain endlessly entertaining. Then we went up to the 42nd floor where the gym was, but sadly we’d forgotten our trainers. Bummer. We went on Lift Adventures every night, and sometimes we’d get cheered on by friendly Americans: “You go girls, let it all out!” Hoorah for glass elevators and nice people!
Tune in for tomorrow’s blog when we’ll be celebrating my 21st birthday at Central Park and the Upper East Side, with special guest appearances from Elphaba: the Wicked witch of the West. Oh, how I spoil you… (seriously though, it was amaze).
I didn’t have to think about my answer at all. “New York”, I said. The girl next to me retorted “Ooo, if I could only go to one place in the world, I’d want to go somewhere abroad”. I blinked. I’m not sure where she thought New York was - just past Rhyl, probably.
But the idea of going to New York had always been a dream to me. Everything about it seemed iconic, inspiring, mesmerising - it was the backdrop to films and TV shows, and there had been songs written about it. There has never been a song written about Abergele, North Wales. It was where Miracle on 34th Street was set. I watched Miracle on 34th Street, on average, three times a week during my childhood. Shots of Central Park and Times Square had enchanted me for years - it looked so exciting, and so alive.
Basically, I really fucking wanted to go to New York. It was a place where dreams came true. And I wanted my dreams made true, dammit.
My friend Lauren and I met in the first year of University and quickly bonded over our mutual lack of maturity and enjoyment of the finer things in life: Morrisons chicken curry slices and Heat magazine. We idly talk about going to New York but, as always, thought it was probably one of those passing fancies that would never materialise. Like meeting Russell Brand (*ahem* http://bit.ly/bi9tgg) I mean, it costs thousands to go to New York. Where are two unemployed students going to get thousands of pounds from?
Oh, hello bursary. It’s what David Cameron would’ve wanted, I’m sure.
So in May 2010 we booked to go to NYC on 30th January, 2011 - we’d be there for my 21st birthday. And so, the countdown began…
January 26th, 27th, 28th
I’m going to give you a sample of some of the texts that were flying back and forth between myself and Lauren. We were a little excited.
L: I’m sat grinning over my chicken soup, thinking about this time next week!
Me: I’m absolutely bouncing now! 3 sleeps until it all kicks off! Eeeeeeek!!!!!
L: Two more sleeps until Saturday! It’s happening Amy!!!!!
Me: I’m hyperventilating while my mum pours Kalms down my throat!
L: I’m doing my washing and ironing: ‘Next time I wear you I’ll be in New York effing city!!!!’
Me: I do that too! And when I have a shower before I go I’ll think ‘Next time I have a shower I’ll be in New York… Next time I have a wee…’ etc etc.
L: Are you not going to shower or use the loo between now and New York?!
Me: Nooooo!
L: I’m buzzing with excitement! People are phoning to tell me to have a great time, I feel like a celebrity!
Me: I feel physically sick with excitement! I have an erratic heart beat!
This went on for quite a while. We also got very exclamation happy. !!!!!! OMG !!!!!!
Saturday 29th
We had a direct flight from Manchester to JFK at 10am Sunday morning, so the night before we went to stay in a Travelodge closer to the airport. Just somewhere to put our head down for the night. HAHAHA oh if only.
First though, we dumped our luggage and went out with my lovely family: Emma, Shaun, Ellis, Finn, my aunt, uncle and mum. We had a delish meal and I was allowed to open my birthday present from Emma & Co (like Tiffany & Co, innit) early so they could gauge my reaction. It was a Pandora ring and it is beautiful! Silver and topaz, I love it to bits.
We wanted to get to bed early because Shaun was picking us up to take us to the airport at 6am, so we were tucked up by about 9pm.
This was until our friendly neighbourhood chavs in the room across the corridor started getting ready for their night out, which involved blasting Rihanna’s ‘S&M’ on repeat for 2 solid hours and shouting things like *in thick scouse accent* “Morgan, where’s my fucking eyelashes? You do this every time!”.
Then they went out dressed in an outfit fit for a gypsy and we finally got a little sleep. Until they returned at some un-Godly hour running down the corridors screaming and banging on all the doors on the way. We had to get up early anyway so we just cut our losses and started getting ready, while listening at the door to the drink-fuelled chats that were going on outside:
*thick scouse accent*
“Charlottte, why are you crying?”
“I can’t tell you! I can’t tell anybody!”
“Whatever it is Charlotte, you can fucking tell me!”
Yeah tell her Charlotte! Go on! I’m a bit of a nosey bitch!
Sunday 30th
So we were up at 3am (THREE. AY. EM.) because of Morgan and Charlotte’s Jezza Kyle style dramas, but we were too giddy to even care. Nothing could piss on our parade that day. Direct quote from Lauren “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy at 3 o’clock in the morning!” - I hear ya sister.
We arrived at the airport to a pretty aggressive security guy whose questions went a little something like this: “When did you pack your case? Has it been with you since then? Has anyone asked you to put something in your case? What is the purpose of your trip? You don’t look 21. Are you carrying any fire arms?”. STFU dude, so I have a face like a Cabbage Patch kid, I’m still 21. And would I tell you if I was carrying fire arms? Seriously? I hope you don’t just take people’s word for it.
But anyway, don’t you just love taking off? I do. It was a really smooth 8 hour flight, and we were given loads of nice food. Yes, plane food that was NICE! And unlimited drinks, all of it free. Don’t mind if I do. *knocks back orange juice, on the rocks no less* The air stewards were all American and lovely and “oh, you girls!”. I got a bit fixated with the ‘track your flight’ thing on the TV in front, and just watched the plane go over the Atlantic ocean for a considerable amount of the journey (in between watching Glee, Easy A, and playing a game with a fish but my fish kept dying and I had no idea why). Lauren and I found much amusement in the names of places we flew past, such as ‘Happy Valley Goose Bay’. That is a real place, guys. And then before we knew it, we were in NEWWW YOOOOORK! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MAAAADE OOOOF! We had an eye scan and finger prints taken just incase we turned out to be crack-a-lacka-mental and then we were on our way to our hotel!
We were staying at the Marriott Marquis right in the centre of Times Square - the closer we got, the more excited I became. It was 8pm UK time (3pm NY time) when we arrived at the hotel - we were tired and felt a bit grubby after just sitting for all that time but Oh. My. Life. The hotel was amaze. The glass elevators! The massive room! The Times Square view! First thing Lauren and I did was jump on the beds, natch. When I spotted a magazine on our coffee table with Ed Westwick on the cover, I really knew we’d hit the jackpot. We quickly unpacked and headed straight for the bright lights!
Times Square was completely overwhelming at first. I’d never been somewhere so… tall. It was so strange being surrounded by massive billboards and lights that I’d seen in so many photographs, to then be there amongst it all. It seemed a bit surreal. The shops were all taken to the extreme, par exemple: Toys R Us had a 60ft ferris wheel smack bang in the centre. M&M World had about 50 different colours of M&Ms to choose from, literally.
We walked into a huge Disney Store and an American girl screeched “I love your hat, that is SO CUTE!”. Ha, erm, thanks! (After about the 5th variation of the same hat compliment, we came to the conclusion that America could really benefit from an Accessorize). We ate at one of the many McDonald’s while Piers Morgan stared at us through the second floor window (from a billboard, not in a peeping Tom kind of way).
Bear in mind, I live in North Wales. My nearest Starbucks is a 45min drive away. My mind was being BLOWN. By 8pm NY time we’d been up for 22 hours and felt a little dizzy surrounded by all this razzmatazz, so we head for the hotel and I went straight to sleep, feeling a little out of my depth in the big city…
Monday 31st
However, by the following afternoon I was waltzing round like Jenny from the freakin’ Block. I made myself right at home - we quickly learned our avenues from our streets and just generally got stuck in. We were on 7th and 45th, and were heading for 5th and 34th, and internally I was screaming with excitement because I finally knew what that meant. I was walking the streets of New York! You’ll never understand how much all this meant to me!
We hit all the big shops on 5th Ave: Saks, where mum bought Marc Jacobs perfume, and Macy’s, where I bought a Juicy Couture watch with some of my birthday dollars. I got 10% off because I was an international customer, and was treated like royalty. “21 years old… wow. You have your whole life ahead of you, the world is your oyster! I like your hat”.
We went to the Juicy Couture shop, which was set out as you would imagine a 12 year old girl would decorate her bedroom. Big, plush throne type chairs with gold arms; floral wallpaper; a wide, spiral staircase; large ornaments of dogs that had been positioned to look like they were wearing jewels and carrying handbags; every visible colour was somewhere on the magenta spectrum. Naturally, I loved it.
We also went to American Girl Place, after a lovely lady in Saks had raved about it. Holy hell, that’s a creepy shop! I can imagine it would’ve been a vision of heaven for most little girls, but blimey. Just dolls. Dolls EVERYWHERE! Every variation of skin tone, hair colour, hair length, and eye colour you could imagine. Doll sized outfits and child sized outfits hung side by side on the rails, so that the two could match. The doll could be dressed as a nurse, or a surfer, or own a clarinet, or a poodle; whatever your heart desired. You could even fit the doll with a voice box, if you wanted it to talk. Now, if you grew up in the nineties, there’s a good chance that you watched Sabrina the Teenage Witch. And if you’re anything like me, the immortal line “I’m a Molly dolly, and I’m gonna get you” ricocheted around your head at night when everyone else was asleep. That’s all I’m saying…
We saw the New York Library, which was very grand and imposing, if a little snooty (you had to have your bags checked before you went in and out. It’s a LIBRARY! I’m not that desperate for the latest Biff ‘n’ Chip!). It was a beautiful building though, as are lot of the building’s in the city. I haven’t seen the same architectural magic around here as I did in New York: buildings that make you stop in the middle of a busy street, just to stare at them. Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in particular had that effect on me - mesmerising in it’s intricacy.
But from Catholics to cupcakes, our next stop was ‘Crumbs’, a lovely, sugary little cafe that sold homemade cupcakes the size of three of my clenched fists put together. The decision of which one to have was nothing short of agonising. (I had two over the course of my trip: a chocolate covered strawberry cupcake, and a Hershey’s peanut butter cupcake. Just in case you were wondering…).
I’m trying my best to refrain from describing every meal we ate, in detail, but it was all delicious and came in portions sizes that would feed the whole of Anglesey. We ate in Junior's and it had photographs in the loos of celebrities who had eaten there. Any meatballs that are good enough for Adam Sandler are good enough for me.
That evening we spent a while amusing ourselves with our favourite shops on Times Square, namely Godiva, which sold the most beautiful chocolates, and had girls carrying them around on platters: “Would you like to try our chocolate strawberry fondant?”. Don’t mind if I do. They either had short term memory loss or were particularly generous, as they soon came around again. We all had one hand full of chocolate bars but, as Lauren diplomatically put it as she grabbed another free sample: “Just to double check…”. We also bought a cone of chocolate covered strawberries for night time nibbles. How posh.
Sephora was paradise for perfume and make-up loves, i.e. ME! We must have spent an hour and a half in there; spritzing, glossing, trying a different nail varnish on each finger. We spent so much they gave us a Sephora card which entitled us to a free gift every $100 spent; this involved filling in our details, and when the lady at the till saw that it was my birthday the next day she was all “GUUURRRRLLL! It’s your birthday tomorrow! You can have your gift today!” and gave me some lovely bath stuff that had ‘Happy birthday, beautiful!’ written on it. N’aww.
Back at the hotel, Lauren and I went on our Lift Adventures; we went to the 48th floor, and back down again, just because glass elevators are now and will forever remain endlessly entertaining. Then we went up to the 42nd floor where the gym was, but sadly we’d forgotten our trainers. Bummer. We went on Lift Adventures every night, and sometimes we’d get cheered on by friendly Americans: “You go girls, let it all out!” Hoorah for glass elevators and nice people!
Tune in for tomorrow’s blog when we’ll be celebrating my 21st birthday at Central Park and the Upper East Side, with special guest appearances from Elphaba: the Wicked witch of the West. Oh, how I spoil you… (seriously though, it was amaze).
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