Mice and Men

Fate, as well as its sister, Chance, help people accept the imperfections in their lives, with an emphasis on those they feel they cannot control. Indirectly, they just serve to justify the limitations of human beings and the fact that most of us control only a little our surroundings.

They also help the big G to remain aloof and impartial. To keep his hands clean among those believers who prefer a non-interventionist God. And gives you something to get angry with when you should be angry with yourself or some close person.

And yet, it is also true that the Universe carelessly shatters our carefully made plans. I can understand perfectly the urge to personalize those forces, so that I can shake my powerless fist to someone.

I tend to two opposite tendencies. On one hand I enjoy building elaborate plans, convoluted buildings of events that must happen all right in order to be able to fully complete the aims. On the other, in other aspects where I am not concerned or worried enough to build a plan, I just let myself go with flow.

Anyone observant will have noticed that this attitude will ensure that I will just drift through life with little worry or care from Fate or Chance, except when I really get worked out about something. Damnation Alley, indeed, being carefree most of the time except when it matters.

The only redeeming feature is that, after a long series of failures, catastrophes and frustration, I am getting quite good at estimating odds, so although I do not stop building those baroque plans, now I add a series of contingencies, plan B options, alternate paths, and consolation prizes.

Because no plan survives contact with the enemy, but I only use them with friends.  ¶ 5:04 PM 0 comments

  Loose threads

Some comments and details that escaped the day by day series.

I dislike Starbuck's. Their coffee policy, their coffee and their installation policy all suck. But they are everywhere interesting (except when you need one, as always), have clean toilets, friendlier staff than most franchises, and the green tea frappuchino they had this summer is the best summer comfort drink I have tried. So we have consumed each several liters of the stuff.

As a matter of fact, service personnel were extremely pleasant and helpful, much more than I remembered from my last visit. There were always exceptions (generally franchises), but in general help and a smile were always in plentiful supply. And the only person I commented it (book replacer at The Strand) he said that the last years people did really make an effort to be more polite, and it soon was a snowballing effect. He did not mention 9/11, but I am sure that played a role. Something similar happened in Madrid, for almost a week, but New Yorkers were not used to it, and the shock was orders of magnitude larger.

Then there are those who just are classy and timeless, such as the customer information gentlemen at Saks, who not only complimented Cristina on her English (boosting her confidence terribly) but also made her feel great and told her that what she was looking for could be found at Sephora's, two blocks north.

Besides the excess of i-pods around, it was also quite nice how many people were reading all around us. Both in the subway, coffee terraces, parks and even the delis. And not only papers and magazines, plenty of paperbacks and even a few lugging hardbacks. Although it may be as well some kind of social barrier at work (do not interact with me, I am reading).

Little police presence, and despite the signs warning of possible random searches in the subway, we did not witness any. Only at Grand Central was an unusual sight, with armed USArmy soldiers standing guard. There is something moderately wrong when you mix a crowded area and full automatic weapons.

We witnessed no crimes, but we have just found out we were victims of one. This week-end my wife checked that there were many unexpected charges in one of her credit cards. After blocking it, it was found that all of them were in New York, after we left. The issuer will cover the expenses, as she is covered, but she has to denounce it and all the paperwork. As she used it only in Macy's at Herald Square there is a good possibility the card copier can be found (unless it was Macy's that got hacked). Weird, as we used our shared card a dozen of times and I also made almost a dozen payments with my own, and the only time she did not pay cash, that happened.

But we still remember the trip fondly.  ¶ 11:29 AM 0 comments

  Departure and Arrival, revisited

The morning started slowly. We had planned to pack before going to bed, but after Tabla and the tablatinis we just skipped it, so we had to pack in the morning. So it was over 10 when we went down to leave the room and store the luggage till our pick-up time.

We planned to take the 7 subway to the end of the line, to say we had seen a little of Queens, and Grand Central is a great place to fill your food wishes, so Cristina satisfied her cravings for a good espresso, and I got a sizable piece of New York cheesecake. It was so good I confess I licked the waxed paper.

Then we see that the 7 express starts running at 12:30 pm, too late for our pick up, and the 7 local takes too long. So inmediate change of plans, we went to visit the inside of the Public Library, and what a place it is. The only surprise, for me, was how empty it was. I mean, with those facilities, those services, all those books!

One last walk, last minute shopping, last moments seeing the lunch crowds invade ant trace of greenery.

We went to the airport in a bus, with other people who had contracted the trip through the same travel organization we had (they include transport from and to the airport and the hotel, a big advantage when you do not know how to handle yourself. Unlike them, we took no organized tours, so we were not very popular with the tour manager. It still surprises me those people who believe that they can see a city in four hours. You get at most a slice of what some people consider the city. But what I dislike the most is that in that way you do not make the city yours, you just adopt the distorted image and views of someone else, and that image will be with you the rest of your life. I prefer to make my own image. Slower, probably, but suited to me and my own peculiarities.

We spent the last cash in lunch, a few mugs and alcohol (duty free). There was no overbooking (I suspect the US laws are more strict, making it less profitable) so we got to use the tourist class. And clearly it is not the service or the personal screen, it is the space what makes the luxury in a plane. Space for you, and keeping the others far enough from you.

But we made it safe and sound, and after a good coffee and some breakfast, drove back home without incidents.  ¶ 11:34 AM 0 comments

  Slow Unwind

Although I have not said it directly, we were getting more and more tired with the continuous rythm we had. Having done and seen most of what we wanted, we decided to take it easy the last days.

As the day dawned sunny and bright, it was clear this would be the day to take Staten Island Ferry. And we would be seated most of the time. First, however, we decided at last to have a full strength breakfast, at the same time discovering that home fried are potatoes but they are not fried, that French toast is not anything a Frenchman would recognize, and that NY breakfast cooks walk a thin line between charring and burning their bacon. Unfortunately it seems you cannot get a good coffee where you can get good food.

Relaxedly we make our way to the Ferry, to see the Hudson, the southern skyline and the Liberty Statue. And for once we are taken where we want to without work. The ferry ride, even if we only set foot on Staten Island for a couple of minutes, all that we needed to board the same ferry back, was a high point. Extremely resting.

Another stroll through Battery Park City, with shopping in our minds (GAP, Century 21, Banana Republic, whatever which is faily priced and nice. And with the euro/dollar exchange the threshold is lower. We end up getting jeans, shirts and even a bag at GAP (really comfortable). We were planning to shop in other places, but we leave so loaded that we skip that and we just go back to the hotel (and in my case to change my jeans for the new ones). Then we go our separate ways for lunch and shopping. I finally decide to get the i-Book battery (after all, it costs almost the same as a The Lion King ticket. And I get a new dose of Apple fandom, although I feel it is evaporating already. Then, as I had my quota of shopping filled, I went to see Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle. Nice movie, and a nice break, as the ferry in the morning, from the hurry and the bustle both of the tourist life and Manhattan itself, a place that pushes you to keep moving.

We had set a rendezvous at 7 at Rockefeller's Atlas, to stroll through the richer part of Fifth Avenue and the surrounding Avenues, and like experienced sight-seers, we crossed through the nice buildings, both to see the cavernous halls and excessive decoration (the Trump building comes to mind) and to get faster and with a nicer temperature than outside. We see the outside of the MoMA and even go to the Guggenheim Museum to take pictures of the outside. Feeling we have done what we could, we take a bus back to our area of town.

We had decided on a good restaurant for the last evening. Even despite his notoriety (and I was a couple of times taking Kitchen Confidential to the till, but in the end always returned it) we felt that French-American was not exotic enough for us, so Bourdain's Les Halles was a no. So we went to Tabla, supposed to be an Indian fusion place.

It did not surprise us to have to wait half an hour after our reservation time to get a table, and thanks to our late dining hours. The Tablatinis, although having little in common with Martinis, made the wait shorter and more pleasurable. And the food was great. Again, prices were quite reasonable with the exception of drinks that were over the top. But as I switched to beer and Cristina to water (and a glass of Pinot Noir), it remained moderate.

Indeed the food and service had been so nice that when they brought me a mistaken bill (charging only the drinks rather than the full meal) I informed them and made them revise it. But the temptation was there. A nice place for Indian food with a difference.

And maybe it was the shock of eating well for once, but Cristina did not feel well, so we went moderately early to bed.  ¶ 5:06 PM 0 comments

  Sensestimulation

It was a cloudy day, with warnings of random showers. So what do you do then? Go to a museum, of course. Mind fare and hopefully protection from the elements. If it had been sunny we would be already at the Staten Island Ferry.

We had given some thought to the choice, as it was clear that we only had enough time (and stamina) for one museum more. So, once you put it like this, there was just one choice, the Met.

So there we go, back to Central Park. I notice Cristina is quite interested in several picture sellers outside the museum, a consequence of the excess of nude walls at home. But we decide to check them on the way out, depending on the visit to the museum shop (so late, and we have no presents to take back to family and friends yet).

Then we proceed to spend some five hours inside, and one more hour browsing the shops. It is impressive both by the height and the breadth of the collections, and how much is on exhibition. Although the Medieval and European Art leave us unimpressed, the other countries and (for me) the weapons and armour exhibition is quite impressive. You get some of the "ancients overload" you get as well in the British Museum, but here you just need to sit for a few minutes in Astor Court, or take a stroll by Degas danseuses, or a quick pop to the roof to see green and skyscrapers and you stop wishing Babylon had remained buried.

In Astor Court, a recreation of a Ming Scholar's hall and garden, I noticed something interesting. The Chinese visitors ignored the garden and focused on the hall, even seating to rest with their backs to the garden, while the Westerners did not notice the hall till they had explored the garden, and rested facing the garden and with the back to the "building".

The shop gave us, after too much looking around, gifts for most of the families on both sides. We are lucky books are quite acceptable as gifts.

On the way out, and slightly frustrated because she had not bought anything for herself, Cristina latched on a pair of Chinese pictures, for our house. She even unconsciously bargained the price down, so she was even happier marching back to the subway with her red leaves on black branches.

A quick stop at Grand Central for lunch, and to try something more American than what we were having most of the time. Although I am not sure that Chicago style hot dogs have green and red bell peppers.

I also realized then, although I suppose I must have known that much earlier, that the typical US tourists behave in the same way in NYC as they do abroad, and that indeed Manhattan must seem like a foreign territory to many of them.

With the late lunch, we decide to have dinner after the show (we have those lucky tickets for The Lion King, if you remember) rather than the planned before the show. So probably that means we will not find a good restaurant today.

Tired and wishing some rest and a shower before we head for the Theatre district, we go shopping our different interests (Tekserve hunting for a battery for a clamshell i-Book and a Barnes and Noble for me, Macy's for Cristina) and meet up at the hotel.

I hesitate to spend that money on a battery for a computer I seldom use (although with the newer laptop screen broken it is doing a good role as music and photo depot this trip) and I cannot help adding Amazon prices (and discounts) to all the books that interest me. For similar reasons, Cristina returns also empty handed.

Well, I am not a musical lover, and I have seen a few, but I was curious to see how they are at the source. Cristina loves musicals, so she was even more excited. So after doing a tour of the surrounding area and seen scalpers in action (both offering tickets and offering to buy ours, always a good sign) we settled in.

Three hours later we came out, quite impressed. Besides a couple of Hans Zimmer pieces I could not hum a bar of the music, but the spectacle, the dancing, choreography and scene management was outstanding. Adding some acrobatics and a lot of puppetry (a weakness of mine) and it was a full spectrum spectacle.

The main difference of Broadway with others I have seen is the sheer perfection of it. All, no matter how minor the role or how simple the task, tried to excel, and that is more than I am used to. Probably because many supporting cast there could star in a similar role somewhere else.

So here we are, with stars in our eyes, but a hole in our bellies, and thousands of people competing for the few eating places open. So after some looking around and some crowd dodging we ended up at a Greek fast food place (and I had not yet had my gyros/kebab yet in NYC, something I try to taste in all places I go) that was somehow empty, though it filled up in the minutes that we waited for our food. Tired and crowd shy, we decided to eat on the way back to the hotel, which was ok and tasty, but severely depleted my stock of wearable pants. Those tomatoes, always bent in escape at all costs!

So exhausted but happy, we got to the hotel. It was hip-hop night at the club, so that made us just skip it again. There are limits to what you can bear.  ¶ 9:49 PM 0 comments

  Why there is so much people?

One of the characters in Sex and the City say something along the line of "There is anything outside Manhattan?" Today we tested it, and certainly there is little outside that you cannot find it here too...

A hearty breakfast at what has become our favorite deli ("28 Deli") and a detour through Times Square to check musical availability. Cristina really wants to go to The Lion King, which is supposed to be sold out (and impossible to get at reduced prices), so we decide to check that first before trying others (she does not want to attend anything with much talk or a complex plot, as she fears she may get lost). Mamma Mia was second in line, although I wanted her to try Wicked! or The Producers. But as I do not like musicals my opinions are ignored. Fair, I suppose, as that lets me whine and complain all I want. And she almost did not complain at the AMNH.

Surprisingly (my conspiracy radar makes me suspicious of the salesman) there are just two tickets, quite well placed, for Tuesday evening. No other choice, but it is clearly a sign and after all with the current euro/dollar ratio it is not so expensive...

Then a hop and we start the "picturesque neighbourhood" series. We start with SoHo and the Cast Iron District. It suits as well, both the buildings, a big contrast to the NYC we had visited so far, and the shops, which in general are our kind of shops, even if most of them are not really suited to our budgets. I am thankful I am wearing my Lagerfeld and my Camper shoes, for certain. Besides taking a few photos as a visual reference for a web forum, we enjoy window shopping, and even entering a few and just browsing around. I profit from the Apple center open policy to check my e-mail and send a few answers, but they are unable to help me to get some obsolete Apple software and hardware. But they point me to some people who can.

Chinatown, already spreading like a fungal growth out of its bounds, contrasts markedly, with its crowds and cheap offers. Although we had some plans to shop and eat there, we get so overloaded by the sheer weight of the Humanity around us, not to mention noise and smell, that we have to run away. Little Italy is mostly another outpost of Chinatown and NoLIta may be nice to live but does not compare to the other side of Broadway, so we just keep running North. Till we get to Houston, I decide to go to the cinema (Landmark cinemas, hesitating between Howl's Moving Castle and 2046) if I get the opportunity, and following the cinematographic turn we visit Katz Deli (famous for Sally/Meg Ryan's orgasm scene). We were planning to eat there but again it was too crowded, and Cristina did not felt up to the task of the sandwichs there. So we ended up in a good British pub, Slaintë, quite a welcoming place. We quickly noticed that although food is quite similarly priced to Spain, alcoholic drinks are much more expensive. But Guinness is comfort food. They were Liverpool's fans, and they lived up to the motto "You'll never walk alone"!

Return to the hotel, some rest and we go our separate ways, shopping. In my case that meant books,starting at The Strand, where I could (and did) spend hours. I had to limit myself to five books, just to avoid overloading the luggage and because the main shopping was supposedly yet to come. But it was hard.

Then The Forbidden Planet, that was a disappointment compared to the one in London, so much that I did not buy anything. So, rather than returning to The Strand, as I was short of time, I went to the Virgin Megastore in Union Square, where I got Wicked, both to fill my buying needs and to see what the musical was about.

That put me quite late, and Cristina came even later, exhausted and not having bought anything, so as she did not want to leave the hotel I went hunting for a Chinese takeaway (some mediatic icons have to be filled). And it is clear why, cheap good food, and you always order more that you can eat.

I went a while, alone, to listen to live Jazz in the club of the hotel, another privilege of being a guest. But only a short while as this is still the middle of the trip and we are already close to exhaustion.  ¶ 9:31 AM 0 comments

  Different Natures

Sunday we wanted to spend the day at Central Park. So we got a copy of the New York Times, a good breakfast, and there we go to the Upper West Side. An Espresso to remember how coffee is supposed to be. And to the American Natural History Museum we go.

Quite impressive, and tiring as well, but we feel a strange low level irritation, when we notice how many primitive peoples are included, apparently at a similar level as exotic fauna. That spoils our enjoyment of the anthropological sections of the museum, but it still leaves plenty to enjoy, from Space to Dinosaurs.

Then to lay on the grass, read, listen to music (besides the one we carried, joining the millions of i-pod wearers, MIA gave a free concert in the park). And walk around. Food the one available in the part, hot dogs (Cristina will end up liking the kosher dogs) and ice-cream. Very healthy.

We did not make it into the auditorium, so although we could listen to MIA we could not see her. But there was plenty to see. The best, the Park Dancing group on Rollers, specially the senior section.

It is incredibly pleasant to see how the park is used by so many people, and yet it is respected and kept so that it can be used as well the next day. Cleaner than most of the city, more silent, it is still possible to find a quiet corner to rest a while and chat.

Feeling rested and oxygenated we went back to the hotel, showered and changed and went out for a good dinner and thinking of going to the top of the Empire State Building. We were looking for a Japanese restaurant we had seen earlier (as Cristina did not want to check if there was place at Bourdain's Les Halles) but in the way we saw a Persian grill and decided that Persian was more attractive than Japanese.

We ate a lot (hummus, eggplant, lamb and beef, accompanied by tons of basmati rice) and also enjoyed watching the many Iranians that attended the restaurant, as they were loud, tender and quite open. And the lime water they constantly refilled our glasses with helped to keep the heat at bay. The food was a mix of middle eastern and Indian influences, and very good, if a bit tasty.

Then we entered deliberately the tourist trap that has become the Empire State Building. The wait was short, and the sights and atmosphere were worth both the crowds, the lines, the shop and the admission fare. It helps to realise this is all (including the park we had spent most of the day in) a human crafted environment, for the maximum population density possible, as far as sight reaches. It is also surprising how isolated you can feel there at the top, even surrounded by people. That is why, I suppose, half the people were phoning somebody. Reaching out to someone.  ¶ 7:20 AM 0 comments

  Tears and buildings

The hotel does not serve breakfast, and the proposed venue does not open the week-end, so we end up in a Dunking Donuts, drinking bad coffee and eating good donuts. Then a quick trip to a subway station to get a seven day Metrocard. That was a great idea, or we would have died on our feet.

First trip, downtown to Brooklyn Bridge, to walk the bridge, step on Brooklyn and then a subway back, to Ground Zero. All that morning we kept moving in the neighbourhood, and though 9/11 was all around, it also felt very far away. It was the typical tour, Century 21, Wall Street, Trinity, Battery Park. We did not take any ferry because Cristina, the resident photographer, said it was too late and too much sun for good photos. Although she mistrusts the sausage making process deeply, she accepted a hot dog,because it was kosher. So then we walked through Battery Park City and Robert Wagner Park, enjoying the view, the breeze and the quiet. Till we reach North Cove, and after watching the pretty boats, we go shopping into the WFC.

No buying, just checking the big brands and the small brands. And we are not surprised to find we are GAP people. The unbranded brand. And another view of Ground Zero. Still no response, till we cross the walkway and make it to St. Paul's. There the numbness that has been on the whole morning suddenly evaporates, and emotion grips me by the throat and leaves me speechless. First the banners and the badges, the volunteer work in the clean-up. The horror, the humanity and the hope of people, those living rather than those dead. Then the memorials, the mementoes of the dead, of the missing, the open, beating heart of tragedy. And I cry, to find Cristina is crying too.

Drained, we return to the hotel to rest a little, and to change the scenery. As well as a nap to put the jet-lag to rest.

Then a quick subway hop to Grand Central, all of it, including halls, shops and specially the market. Makes you wish we had a kitchen. Then typical tourism, Chrysler building, UN building, St. Patrick's and the Rockefeller center. Somehow we end up in Times Square, crowded a saturday evening, and we have trouble finding a place to eat. So we go for pizza, big warm slices of supposedly traditional NY pizza, served and made by peruvians. But its warm energy is what we need after all that exertion. Exhausted, we make it to the hotel.  ¶ 11:06 AM 0 comments

  Departure and Arrival

Friday the 5th of August was a long day. Vagaries of time. It started quite early, driving to Madrid to pick up a plane.

I have often complained how I miss the magic of travelling. Travelling with someone who still feels the specialness of it is not a perfect substitute but it helps to feel more emotion than usual. My wife's joy of travel was contagious. A friend at the travel agency had marked our dossier as "Just Married", as she said that that would ensure people would do a little extra for us.

So when we arrived to the airport, we found the plane was overbooked to the limit (five groups before us in the check-in, only one got seats while the rest had to wait). We had e-tickets with confirmed seats, a good measure when travelling in busy times, but they informed us that we had been moved to 1st class, if we did not mind. Obviously we did not. Although I had flown first class in short flights, it is these long flights where you get to enjoy the benefits.

However, despite being benefited by the overbooking, it makes you wonder about all those people whose holidays were suddenly subverted, taken out of their control. And how the real guilty parties do not face the consequences, while the check-in personnel have to bear the anger, the frustration and the abuse of those who suddenly find out that tickets are not a contract, just a limited service.

But I have to confess any worries about our fellow travellers quickly evaporated when you see the high tech chair, the space, the service and again, the space available. No pushing of knees against the seat, no limited prone position.

Security, as usual, was almost a joke. I have never understood what makes a bottle of cask strength whisky (a frightening weapon both intact and broken, and flammable to boot) less dangerous that a nail file. Except that one shows they worry, and the other is part of a big economy.

With some jet-lag experience, I try to keep my soul with me. No alcohol, no coffee, no sleeping. Reading and movies, so that if I can go to sleep at 10 pm NYC time and sleep for ten hours, I will be at adapted to local time in the morning.

The plane was an Airbus A340-600, the same one that had survived a rough landing the previous week, and that made us feel safer.

Inmigration was a circus, even after arriving in the first wave (another class advantage). The electronic fingerprint taker failed a lot (usually with women), so after some twenty attempts they just took a photo to add to the dossier. When we got our luggage, forty minutes after landing, half the plane was still stuck there.

We had arranged transport to the hotel, as those first moments are always the worst, so we got to see part of Queens and the Manhattan skyline before getting to the hotel. The hotel, Gershwin Hotel, was a weird choice. My wife had liked the webpage , ( so after our first selection could not confirm the reservation, we took it). She reserved before I showed her the customer feed-back, so she was a little apprehensive. Its trendyness is a way to disguise age and limited maintenance with imagination, but at least you are not expected to tip your way through your stay.

We wanted to go to sleep around 9, so we had a few hours to spend, dead tired, and we did not think of anything else than strolling 14 streets north, till the Public Library, a quick check at Times Square, and to stroll back through Broadway.

That was maybe a too raw an exposure to New York. In the still opressive heat, the pungent smell was reinforced by the army of rubbish bags stacked three high in some places, leaking variegated fluids on the sidewalk. Or the mounds of garbage concealing the bins. Heat, humidity, smell. Not the best first impression. Even if we could see plenty of famous landmarks.

Dinner in a Subway, too tired to appreciate anything better. And the constant hum of the air conditioners (even if we kept ours turned off most of our stay, the rest kept the room cool) helping us to sleep.  ¶ 7:50 PM 0 comments

  Holiday time

This year the holidays have included a deliberate change of rythm, avoiding most internet and computer use as well. So instead of writing here or on other forums, I read, went out, slept and travelled to New York city, where I did not use the internet (except for a brief checking of e-mail) either. In a way, even the lack of a mobile phone was refreshing, if there had not been constant reminders of them around. It seems most New Yorkers value only their i-pods higher than their phones.

Now the holidays are over, and I have a backlog to attend to. Rather than definite rants, I will just run a travelogue about New York (Manhattan, actually) amd rant as necessary. This trip will provide quite a lot of material, both as entertainment and rants.  ¶ 1:05 PM 0 comments