BY KATHY BLANTER I’m a city girl. It’s in the city, most any city, where I’m me. Some people love to be in nature and crave time at the beach or bushwalking, the country life or being anyway but the city. I often hear people talking about retiring to the country, leaving the city. I’ve always imagined retirement in a tiny apartment as close to the city as I can afford. Like Patti Smith I imagine a busy retirement in my inner city hidey hole, a daily coffee or two at my local café, surrounded by art and music and theatre... but I digress.
the High Line. It was early morning and there was almost no one walking along it. I watched my breath puff out in front of me as I walked and felt the city. The High Line takes you along the side of the city, through buildings and offers views up streets, out towards the Hudson and of ever changing art installations. I ended my walk at Chelsea Market but got lost walking back to the hotel.
Did I fall in love with New York instantly? Was it the moment, on my first visit for my sister’s wedding, when I walked into the refurbished warehouse apartment in Brooklyn where we were to stay for the week? A giant red pegasus, a re-purposed vintage Mobil sign, decorated the living room wall. Dappled light filled the room from the huge industrial windows. I was instantly both at home and invigorated, agitated, eager, alive.
At first anxiety set in but then I relaxed into my understanding of how the city worked and I just walked in the direction I knew was right. It was then I realised being lost in NYC was the best thing. I walked and let the city lead me. In those moments my love for the city was almost overwhelming. It was cool, just slightly drizzly, and as I walked the ghosts of the old buildings whispered to me; I could feel the city hold me. I’m the least spiritual person you’ll ever meet, in every way, so this feeling was as close to a religious experience as I’m likely to experience.
That trip provided my first taste and got me hooked. Though I had small children in tow, children who did not appreciate the wonder of NYC and preferred to bicker about the smallest thing, I fell in love as we walked the streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan, as we caught the subway to the Bronx Zoo. Everything was magical, dirty yet filled with infinite possibility, dangerous yet welcoming.
Apart from the mystical feeling of love I have for NYC and the reciprocal love I feel from the city in practical terms it’s the city that has the most of all the things I need and crave. Art? All the best is here. From the Met and MoMA to the tiny bits of street art and graffiti on every corner. Theatre? Music? Comedy? Broadway, off Broadway, the comedy clubs and small venues peppered everywhere.
My next visit a few years later was a girls trip. Middle Aged Women Gone Mild, I tagged it. A gaggle of my besties staying in mid town at the fab Art Deco New Yorker Hotel. My marriage had crumbled months earlier and while I was a zombie, dead inside and reeling, the city and my closest friends kept me going. There were Broadway musicals, amazing dinners and late night drinks... the things most needed when one’s life is being redefined.
What I live for is the food and bar scene in NYC. Not the fancy stuff. It’s the meals and the daytime drinking that I think of most fondly. My NYC based sister is a foodie and has all the best gems to share. The Spam fries at Maharlika (now sadly closed) in the East Village. The pork at Momofuku Ssam Bar. The doughnuts and coffee at the Doughnut Plant near the Chelsea Hotel (where I make a pilgrimage with each visit, just to stand outside and say a warm hello to the shadows of Leonard Cohen and Janis Joplin). The endless dive bars where daytime drinking is mandatory. I could go on for hours but it’s no fun unless you’re there.
Over the years I’ve had trips with boyfriends, girlfriends and a memorable trip with my teenage daughter who preferred to stay in bed until midday every day. That week is indelible in that I spent each morning alone, wondering the streets, breathing in NYC, listening to NYC. Those mornings, walking alone through the cool Autumn mornings, watching, thinking, intensified my relationship with the city.
I’ll end with the hazy feeling of stepping out of a dive bar somewhere on the Lower East Side; it’s late afternoon and a New York evening stretches out invitingly before me. I miss you NYC.
One morning I walked to my favourite place in all of NYC,
About the Author Kathy Blanter is a Sydney based writer, and though her blog Deep Kick Girl she writes about her love of cooking and her passion for travel and eating great food. https://deepkickgirl.com/
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