Wednesday 16th July - Oh the Irony as we Carry the Bikes Through Customs

With reckless abandonment we headed to the greasiest diner we could find where we devoured pancakes and bacon drowned in maple syrup and whipped butter. We had been so controlled up to this point that we figured we should go out in style. Like Michelin men we rolled out into the street and headed to MoMA where we were excited to see there was an exhibition on the modern dwelling. Our excitement, however, was soon thwarted when we realised it was previewing to members only and the staff barely even flickered as we tried the 'This is our last day in New York' line.

Undeterred, but a little disappointed we entered the gallery to see what else was on offer. I'm not normally that enthralled by modern art but their diverse collections soon sucked us in. The Dali retrospective was amazing and Typologies by Bernd and Hilla Becher had us engrossed in the industrial structures of mines and steel mills. We even had a laugh as we glared into a cabinet containing a Giro bike helmet.

Pleasantly surprised by the depth of our enjoyment at MoMA we headed off to Central Park with lunch from the Whole Foods Market. Sat on a mound amidst coworkers on their lunch break a pigeon flew head first into the tree in front of us. The thud was deafening and the resultant stars were obviously giving the bird a headache as people came over to have a look. Shortly after a girl flew past on a pair of roller blades with a friend running at speed behind. Obscured by the pigeon thumping tree we saw her bag fly out behind her as she eventually lost her balance and grazed along the path. With great decorum she got up and dusted herself off but the wheels came off and I wandered if she had made a resolve never to put them on again. At most I hoped she would be a bit more ginger on slopes. I felt like laughing with such mayhem around us but this would only have resulted in some sort of pain inflicting retribution which I quite frankly did not fancy.

Hoping we were on a roll of cultural delights we headed across the park to the Frick. 15 minutes after entering we left - call us heathens and sorry for not finding the eloquence to state this in a more educated manner but it bored us senseless.

We figured it was best not to try any more galleries and instead walked along Madison Avenue to see how the other half shopped. To Tim's great delight I bought a necklace and earrings from a street vendor for $30 - cheap date was flashing up in his eyes like neon dollar signs.

Eventually we headed back to the hotel where the bellboys tried their hardest to get us a taxi happy to take us and our boxed bikes to JFK smack bang in the middle of rush hour. After a few knock backs a guy eventually agreed on the proviso that we paid more than the standard $45 flat rate - blatant bribery - nonetheless we were happy to oblige.

The driver turned out to be a speed demon and before we knew it we were in Terminal 7 of JFK, where we were upgraded (thank you Tana) and got to enjoy the delights of the lounge and a meal before getting on the plane. I had every intention of sleeping but the flight was only five hours and before I knew it I had sat through numerous sitcoms and the lights were back on to serve us breakfast. Over the next week I would realise how bad a move this was as I endured jet lag which left me incapable of even forming sentences. I guess I had adjusted to the time difference of the West Coast and my body wasn't happy to readjust without a fight.

As we landed in Heathrow we met up again with Becci who had also been on the flight and headed through customs to meet my parents who promptly rounded on poor Becci demanding to know if Tim and I had any interesting news.... Tim and I were both agreed that after sleeping together in a glorified one man tent for the best part of three months whilst churning through the miles that we were ecstatic simply to still be talking to each other ;-) I would say that is good news.

Tuesday 15th July - The Murky Clarity of a West Country Accent

With only two days remaining and still lots of places to visit we headed off early to submerge ourselves into the hustle and bustle of the Grand Central Terminal in all it's enormity. Since 9 - 11 the city has made a mission to show more police presence on the streets and as we rounded the corner to the station the numbers of officers was clearly evident. Interestingly some were chatting away to teenagers with skateboards and I wondered if this was an approach the British force could learn from.

Adamant I could score again with a restaurant from my eat.shop nyc book, we headed to Roomali on Lexington with 27th for an Indian roti sandwich. As we walked up to it I have to admit to wavering on my resolve to trust the book. The sign said closed, although we had just seen someone leaving with a sandwich, and to be honest it looked far from savoury. Thankfully we persevered, the result of which was devourment of the tastiest mango chicken sandwich surrounded by playing children in Madison Square Park.



Fed and watered we headed off to the Arup office where Tim met Fiona and Ray and set off for an afternoon of sailing. I meanwhile headed off to the Staten Island Commuter Ferry to take in the Statue of Liberty. A few minutes after leaving the others by the world financial centre a father and son asked me if they were heading the right way for the ferry and from here I spent the rest of the afternoon with Daniel and Thomas.





I had intended on taking in a little shopping later that day but as we wandered and chatted, it was evident to me I was unlikely to have such chance meetings back at home and that I should enjoy it whilst it lasted. Instead I found myself yet again exploring the city by foot, marvelling at the built environment as we all chatted away about baseball and the Yankies game that evening.




Tim was pretty perplexed by the slenderness of this structure - look how narrow it is in comparison to block next to it:



A few hours on and I met the sailors back where I left them for a meal drenched in linguistic confusion. First of all I asked the busboy for a drink which is frequently met by silence as generally their English is not that great. After three months in the States I should have known not to ask these guys but it isn't always obvious who the waitors are and are not until they have displayed that they have no idea what you are talking about. My west country accent even seemed to throw the waiter as it became evident that Indians in America find the broad Irish accent of Ray easier to understand than mine. I kept laughing, mainly out of embarrassment at not being able to make myself understood and yet I fear they were offended thinking I was laughing at them as opposed to with them. An hour later Becci, who was over for work, met us and I was thankful to realise she went through practically the same chirades in an attempt to get a glass of wine.

Finally fed up of waiting to order another drink or even to be understood, we hopped into taxis for gelato and coffee local to Ray and Fionas, before heading back to the hotel for our final sleep in America.

Monday 14th July - Aerial NYC

At 9am, we attempted the subway, arriving at a relatively short queue for the Empire State Building. An hour shy of our planned arrival we were hungry as a result, but thankful not to be in a massive crowd. Standing in the line (the word ‘queue’ does not seem to compute in the US) we were given a presentation by a very good public speaker telling us all the ways we could spend money in the place (entry, guidebooks, different floor entries, computer simulations) and yet we were still confused by the time we got to parting with our cash.

Of course these places are adept at taking money from tourists and with our will to go as high as possible we paid the extra $15 and headed for the 102nd floor. Nearing the top of the first elevator it started to shudder - an occupant chirped up with: ‘ha ha – Earthquake’. Yeah that is very funny.

Our first stop was the 86th floor from which the views were amazing but a group of kids in football kits were being filmed and it was already pretty busy on top of this. Space was at a premium and the usual pushing and intimidation for the views followed. I could have believed people picking others up and moving them to get some space. We carried on up to the 102nd floor which was brilliant. The floor is much smaller and enclosed but far fewer people seemed to go this high. I managed to panic another woman by saying to Tim I wasn’t enjoying the sway of the building - I guess if you don’t understand structural stability this could be disturbing - and she shot me a cutting glare.

When we had satisfied our need for Aerial New York views, we ear popped our way down to be greeted by queues 10 times longer than when we had gone up. Smugly we left, only to find the coffee shop across the road had sold out of croissants and we were still hungry. Displaying how life can be tough when you are on holiday we settled for muffins before heading on to Bloomingdales. A slight shopping frenzy followed as we snaked along Broome, Prince and Spring Streets. Some shops were affordable and some (like all those with a buzzer to get in) were not, but it was still fun to walk around absorbing the atmosphere.

All shopped out we walked back to the hotel, to find ourselves swept along in rush hour. Prior to our visit I had bought a book called Eat: Shop New York, based on the premise that I liked the way it was presented. We had been studying it for days but a high percentage of the restaurants seemed to be either in Brooklyn or away from where we were whenever we entertained the idea of eating something. As such we were yet to assess the merits of the book, and in an attempt to warrant my purchase we decided to dine at the restaurant closest to our hotel. This happened to be a Greek restaurant maybe 20 blocks away, which had we walked past would not have even tempted us. It wasn’t that it didn’t look appealing more that we would never have noticed it tucked away in a basement. On entering we were met by a packed restaurant and a wait to be seated so we settled down with a Mythos and a little people watching. When we eventually ate, the meal was tasty, the atmosphere great and the couple next to us great conversation.

I think this was 1 – nil for the book.

Walking back we happened upon the black carpet of the Batman premier. Apart from gridlock and the crashing of a taxi into the back of a rubber necking lorry, not much seemed to be happening and we had no interest in hanging around any way in the absence of Heath. Back at the hotel the bar sucked us in yet again although this time only for a night cap.

Sunday 13th July - The Universal, Egg Free, Hangover Cure

One eye opened, the next one opened, the room wasn’t spinning and my head didn’t feel all that bad. Tim on the other hand did not look like he was fairing so well. In need of food we headed across the road for brunch which turned me a shade of green as it reacted with the previous evening’s intake of gin. In no fit state, we wandered, leaflet in had, in the direction of an open top bus tour. Maybe it was the greenness around our gills or the leaflet wielding but stumbling along the bottom of Central Park a tour guide approached and sold us tickets just as a bus appeared. We were in luck, or so we thought until one stop later we were chucked off and told to join another bus.

If this had been a bad sign we needn’t have worried. The bus in front filled just as we got to the front of the queue, leaving us to stand a while on the edge of Time Square. Two minutes later we were on another bus and two hours later we finally left having had the most animated tour guide who seemed to know everything about everywhere.

One of four temporary art installations in New York:


A traffic light swinging metres from our heads:

A wonky Brooklyn Bridge:

And again more traffic lights:

The Gridiron Building:

The U.N. Building:

The enormity of the New York skyline:

Time Square:

In need of more sleep we ducked into the restaurant next to our hotel – a glorified burger joint whose burgers really weren’t all that great - before shunning the hotel bar for the draw of our bed.

Saturday 12th July - Lets Get Sight Seeing

Waking in the last foreign bed of our journey this morning was a little sad. We now only had 4 days until we would be back in the UK and it was beginning to feel daunting. Part of me was semi-happy to go back to my own surroundings but 90% of me was sad to no longer be cycling. Although the past couple of weeks had helped us come to terms with this it was still evident a little damage limitation would help and so we got to thinking about our next tour. My favourite is to cycle the great divide by mountain bike - Tim doesn't seem too excited by mountain biking in the Rockies but then he wasn't instantly enthralled by the West Coast trip...

With cycle dreams in our heads we wondered out into Central Park. Although it was still hot, 30F less was far more bearable as we mingled in the crowds. A Bon Jovi concert that evening was stopping us from crossing the park and it wasn’t until the reservoir that we could head towards the Guggenheim on the other side. Like heathens and with no interest in the art, we entered the Guggenheim, enjoyed the architecture and the shop then left. A few, dollar saving strategies had to be implemented to prevent the spending of hundreds of dollars on New York culture.

From the Guggenheim we walked a couple of blocks to the Design Museum. At the front desk we were confronted with the need to ‘donate’ an entrance fee as only two rooms were open. The older of two ladies pointed out our attractive exchange rate – a handsome donation was obviously expected. Taking possession of the chivalrous card I left Tim to decide what was best – who says inequality doesn’t have its advantages.

Our cultural appetites satiated, we took a taxi to 18th and 5th to meet Fiona, a friend of Tim’s from his graduate days. We ate a hearty lunch, and then set off in the New York heat for the Hudson River and a cooling breeze. Strolling and chatting we viewed: Ground zero from the world financial centre;

The Irish Hunger Memorial;

Various cool buildings;

and eventually the Staten Island Ferry Terminal where in pursuit of food we headed back up to Five Points, a restaurant on Great Jones Street.

From here the events seemed to take a turn in pace. After a great dinner and many glasses of wine, Fiona took us on to (of all places) an Irish pub. After a whiskey Fiona headed home, leaving Tim and I to make it back to our hotel upon which the lure of the hotel bar was too great. A few gins and a raid of the mini-bar's chocolate later the pair of us fell into a deep sleep

Friday 11th July - New York New York

Checking out at 11, we headed to the airport. The flight was thankfully not too long but turbulent for a large part. Sat in front of us were a couple of ladies chatting away, in an accent that I was previously convinced only existed in the Sopranos. They were, however, neither Italian, nor gangsters and apparently this was an east coast accent.

In an attempt to alleviate any boredom we watched 21. Hoping to find a solution to our poor performance in Vegas, the film was far from enlightening and based on a dangerously flimsy storyline with no explanation for how people could put to good use card counting. Nonetheless it saved us from the tirade of the family behind us, who had been sat at the other end of the plane from their father - sadly we still had to endure the phone call to him once the plane had landed.

Having landed at JFK we followed signs for the sky train and hotel transfers. It wasn’t until we had travelled 10 minutes out of our terminal that the sign read 'Airport Hotels Transfer'. Forgetting our resolve to use public transport we turned on our heels and jumped in a taxi for Manhattan. The Friday evening journey was long enough and by the time we reached the Empire Hotel we were both ravenous. Pausing just long enough to check in we were happy to find our bikes had arrived in one piece, and our postage stamp sized room was beautifully formed.

With a need for food overruling any desire to hunt out culinary delights we entered the nearest restaurant – an Italian 50ft from the hotel - where I had a pizza big enough to feed Biafra. I had assumed the portion sizes in New York would be more modest – apparently not.

Thursday 10th July - Some Don't Like it Hot

Two days of Vegas and we were ready to leave the confines to head out into the desert. We picked up our small car – a Pontiac – with the usual confusion from Hertz as we turned down a luxury SUV for a small additional cost. As we drove out of Vegas towards the Hoover Dam, the car thermometer was reading 96F. At 9am in the morning this was somewhat stifling.

The baron expanse as you leave Vegas was far more beautiful than I had anticipated. From the flight in I had looked down wondering why anyone would ever spend too long in the countryside but from within our air conditioned box, the rocky geology of the hills was fascinating. As we drove into Lake Mead National park you could see a line of salty deposit metres above the present level of water - it was hard to believe that anything could be sustained in such a harsh environment and yet conurbations were not confined merely to Vegas.

Stepping out of the car at the Hoover Dam the heat stood on it's hind legs and thumped you in the face. Even though the temperature had dropped as we left behind the expanse of macadam albedo, it was still beyond reasonable. luckily we spent the next few hours enthralled by the science behind the dam and it's tour. As we emerged from the tunnels we made the few meters walk from Arizona into Nevada and back simply to chalk up 5 states on our trip.

Back in the car after an unsurprisingly disappointing lunch we headed to the other side of Vegas in search of Red Rock Canyon. As the chief navigator, falling asleep didn't yield great results. After 10 minutes of shut eye I realised we had gone too far and were leaving Vegas in the wrong direction. All was not lost, as we realised Vegas really wasn't that big a place.

Driving into the park, the temperature began to drop as we climbed. It is simple to surmise from my previous temperature related rants that when we turned a corner to see a cyclist we almost crashed the car in shock. Admittedly she looked like she could barely will her legs to turn but, nonetheless. The Canyon was beautiful and with storms approaching the grey skies were a welcome change. Although we wouldn’t make it to the Grand Canyon this felt like a good compromise.