Oh, New York. Even the bad things which people throw at you (“there’s trash everywhere!”) I take as evidence of a spirited metropolis. It is, to state the obvious, the closest I’ll get to London without just going to London: the city which seems to stretch out endlessly in all directions, criss-crossed by a subway system which gets you anywhere, plus the psychology of hyper-urban crowds.
A snowy, icy and cold New York
It was also, at least in the last few days, super cold. Colder than Chicago – or at least that’s what it felt like, perhaps only because we were outside so much. Despite the weather, Randi and I managed to check off a bunch of touristy things I had missed last time around, inbetween hanging out with her friends in the city. (Tourism truism #137: people will grasp at anything which elevates them from being seen as ‘pure’ tourists.) Huge thanks in particular to Melissa and Amanda, who generously allowed us to stay with them and avoid taking out the huge bank loans which are presumably required for any form of New York accommodation.
One of the 9/11 memorial pools
One of the best things we did, a little unexpectedly, turned out be the 9/11 Memorial & Museum. Given how close we still are to the events of that day – both emotionally and politically – it seemed like it would be a difficult thing to get right. But what the city has built is a fitting tribute indeed. The memorial pools where the base of the towers once stood are dignified and thoughtful, while the museum lets the extraordinary and terrible facts speak for themselves. Indeed, the main exhibition is built around a minute-by-minute timeline of events, and I was moved by many of the small details: audio recordings of the crew members from the hijacked planes, video footage of the hijackers passing through security, an animation showing how US airspace was completely cleared of thousands of planes in a matter of hours. If you’re in New York, it’s certainly worth your time.
I’m more equivocal about the Tenement Museum, which came highly recommended but suffered from anticlimactic tour guiding. This is both a personal and a cultural thing, sure, but I really don’t like being solicited for my views, thoughts or ‘resonances’ on the subject matter – and I know this makes me sound all reactionary (“teaching is all about facilitating peer learning!”) but there’s a reason why most of the world’s great literature is not written in the Choose Your Own Adventure format. There was more confident storytelling in Big Onion’s Greenwich Village walking tour, which was excellent, and included the Stonewall Inn where the famous gay rights riots of 1969 began. (For some reason, I had never connected the British charity with this place in my mind before.)
The award for absurd security theatre goes to Liberty Island, who put you through airport-style screening to get onto the ferry and then airport-style screening again on the island itself. That’s twice as many metal detectors as it takes to board a plane. Still, the Statue of Liberty remains a beautiful thing. We also trooped to the Daily Show studios just to gaze forlornly at Jon Stewart’s soon-to-be-departing face from the posters, and walked the High Line, which is a great idea.
Braving the cold, “otherwise no one will believe we saw it”
Pilgrimage to the Daily Show
Coupley photo from the High Line. Not pictured: the High Line
Drinking out of a boot
Pizza at Roberta’s in Brooklyn, as recommended by Carolyn. Thank you!
At Times Square. Can’t wait to be back in February 2024.
So the last bits of 2014 were great. Which is a bit of an administrative hassle, if you’re the type of person who feels compelled to write a painfully exhaustive review of the year, only to go on and do fun things in that selfsame year afterwards. But still, Pequod’s with Todd and Carolyn was a joy. As was JJ’s games night, where I got to play Cards Against Humanity for the first time, although I do maintain the potentially controversial opinion that it’s not risqué enough.
We also played Catchphrase, during which I had to describe the word ‘penny’, and after saying something like “like a pound, but the smaller British currency unit” (although probably not as clearly as this) a panicked team-mate shouted “kilopound!”. Which was (a) amazing, and (b) a bit sad, because we’re nowhere near as metric as Americans think we are.
New Year preparations. Killer punch not pictured.
Anyway, it’s 2015! And 2015 kicked off at Saujanya’s generously-hosted party, chiefly memorable for its provocatively hot punch (have you ever had your nostrils assaulted by steaming alcohol before?) and a large quantity of champagne as midnight hit Central Time. Later, I courted good luck for the year (at least so Robert alleges) by ordering Hoppin’ John – a Southern New Year tradition – at Michele’s brunch.
“Day trip, anyone?”
Yesterday, to avoid cabin fever during the off-again-on-again holiday break, Randi and I took a day trip to Kenosha, Wisconsin. The chunks of ice on the lake were beautiful, the Wisconsin cheese curds delicious and the mile-long streetcar system – while probably unnecessary from a strictly utilitarian point of view – was very cute all the same. But I don’t want to talk about any of that; I want to talk about the Metra train which we used to get there. Kenosha is the terminus station on the Pacific North line and the cost of a ticket for the two hour ride is a mere $7 (or about £4.50 in real money).
That’s the turn-up-and-go cost of a return ticket – no fiddling about with advance booking and seat reservations. Oh, and you’re allowed to return the next day if you so prefer. The penalty for buying your ticket on the train itself instead of the station? An extra $3. And at no point did we have to endure any automated announcements about taking all our personal belongings with us, either. This is all such absurdly good value from a British perspective, it makes me feel a little ashamed. Railways are in our cultural DNA: how come we get so beaten by a country which couldn’t care less about them?
Kenosha
One other thing I wanted to write about was This American Life, and in particular their programme (part one; two) from 2013 on Harper High School in Chicago’s south side, which I listened to over the break on Katie’s recommendation. Because as much as I enjoy going on my train-based Midwestern escapades, it’s sobering to reflect that I’m effectively cut off from whole swathes of my own city which are just too scary and intimidating to visit. The social problems are, of course, hardly unique to America – but the easy availability of guns adds a shocking level of cheap, fatal violence. In the year prior to this podcast, 29 current or former students had been shot, and the testimony of teenagers who walk home down the middle of the street – considering this marginally safer than the sidewalk – is hard to forget. A highly recommended listen.
Ludington State Park
For the long Thanksgiving weekend, Randi and I took a roadtrip around Michigan – conveniently upping my total of states visited by one. (A double bump, technically, if you counted the brief drive through Indiana… but that would be cheating.) So here is a story of five very different Michigan towns.
1. Paw Paw
Population: 3534
Most notable feature: Adorable name
Ideal movie setting for: Plucky small town beating the odds
Snowy Paw Paw
2. Saginaw
Population: 51,508
Most notable feature: Town square podium
Ideal movie setting for: Local political thriller
Courting the centre-ground
3. Frankenmuth
Population: 4944
Most notable feature: World’s largest Christmas store
Ideal movie setting for: Winter family film featuring Santa, elves and the baby Jesus
It’s not really possible to capture how much Christmas there was. Plus Jesus. And the US military.
4. Ludington
Population: 8076
Most notable feature: Beautiful sand dunes by the lake in the State Park
Ideal movie setting for: Voyage to the Desert Planet
Charging across the dunes
5. Muskegon
Population: 38,401 (allegedly)
Most notable feature: Spooky emptiness
Ideal movie setting for: Zombie apocalypse
These are not real shops. They are fake store fronts.
In all seriousness, it was a really lovely weekend, fuelled by a great in-car Spotify playlist, a sure touch at stumbling across wonderful B&Bs without any prior arrangement, and friendly people all round. (Also, I lost track of the number of times we met Father Christmas.) The adverts on the side of the buses in Chicago don’t lie: Michigan is a beautiful state, at least in parts, and it was well worth a visit.
My favourite moment in Malaysia so far happened inside the ‘Dark Cave’ at the famous Batu Caves just outside of Kuala Lumpur. Everyone turned off their torches until it was pitch black, and we had a minute of silence for the victims of MH17. This was the sort of darkness you’re almost never allowed anymore. No fire exit signs, smartphone screens or glowing standby lights to adjust to over time. My eyes kept straining for light, but nothing came back. And it was so glorious. I could have happily stood there for an hour, feeling very very peaceful and zen.
It can’t last, of course. Especially not when an Australian tourist insists on shining his torch straight at a snake after being politely but repeatedly asked not to. If I spoke Parseltongue, I tell you, that constrictor would have received some immoral encouragement.
Monkeys!
The other animal of note at the Batu Caves are the monkeys – which I still get an odd thrill from being around. Not that I trust them, of course. Monkeys are obviously untrustworthy: any fool who’s seen The Jungle Book can tell you that. But still… monkeys!
I didn’t do a great deal in Kuala Lumpur itself, besides wander around Independence Square, and visit the first museum I came across. The prime exhibit there was a scale model of the city, which lit up and flashed myriad colours while bombastic music played and screens boasted of Malaysia’s growing GDP per capita and impressive tourism income. It’s an interesting country, Malaysia. One of my taxi drivers described it as a harmonious society of three cultures. Another scoffed heartily at this description and preceded to give me a lengthy and personal denunciation of its constitutionalised discrimination.
I really don’t mind taxi drivers ripping me off when they’re willing to talk politics.
The Sultan Abdul Samad Building
Anyway, on Sunday I took a day trip to Melaka, which is smaller and prettier and more ‘historic’ than KL. Mosques, temples and churches jostle side by side, befitting an old trading town ruled by a succession of three European colonial occupiers. Although in one of the Chinese temples, I did read the following sentence which read very curiously indeed to my Europeanish eye:
Worshippers sometimes request the services of a more experienced person to pray on their behalf.
Stark contrasts
On that note, saying where I’m from is complicated now. I mean, it’s not really, but you know when a tour guide asks they don’t really care and would probably appreciate a simple one-word answer as you shuffle past. So what do I say? London? Chicago? I staved off an identity crisis when I got back to my hotel room late on Sunday night, immediately started the kettle and settled down for some tea and Peter Capaldi’s first episode of Doctor Who. Like praying towards Mecca, it doesn’t matter where you are in the world when it’s New Who time: just orient yourself towards iPlayer and enjoy.
I have returned from my odd combo-holiday: Oman and Sri Lanka! (Or more precisely: Oman, Sri Lanka and various intermediary airports. Turns out it’s possible to be both delayed by four hours and still almost miss your flight… a feat I managed in Dubai. But I digress.)
Oman first, to visit Sophie who’s been living and working in the capital Muscat.
Me and Sophie in Muscat
This was my first time in the Middle East, and the most striking thing was the almost complete lack of ‘city’ in the European sense, i.e. a central touristy bit where you can walk around narrow streets without cars. There is an old section, but it’s very very small, and so the city kinda resembles American suburbia but plonked in a desert. (It wasn’t unbearably hot, but that’s probably because of all the air-conditioning – outside it does feel like a hairdryer is switched on in your face.)
Welcome to Muscat. Bus population: 0.
That said, the people were all pretty relaxed and friendly, and when Sophie was working I got driven around by some of Michele’s friends thrice removed, Abou and Wangchuk. (Dear AIESEC, I contribute nothing and just freeload off your enviable social connections. I’m sorry. Love, Dom.) We saw the Royal Palace, found somewhere you could drink (foreign hotel bar) and then hung around on a beach until the sun came up 🙂
It’s hard to do selfies in the sea
It sounds ridiculous, given how many mosques there are in London, but I’m pretty sure this trip was the first time I’ve heard calls to prayer in real life. (From the beach we could hear them start just after 4am, which is just too early for anyone to be contemplating anything.) On the way to the airport I also risked another lateness incident by squeezing in a whistlestop trip to the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, so you can finally have a photo which looks a bit more Middle Eastern:
Sultan Qaboos
And then it was on to Sri Lanka to hang out with my cousin Josh (who I haven’t seen in two years!) and his friends Saul and Ella. We spent a little time in the capital Colombo, but to be honest there isn’t a great deal to do there and my most memorable moment was getting laughed at by a giant group of schoolchildren for being white. (Joke’s on them though: by that point I was mostly sunburnt red with some attractive purpley mosquito bites.) Instead we mostly hung out in two beach resorts further south, Hikkaduwa and Unawatuna.
Cow. Beach.
Me and Josh
Josh, Ella and Saul
These were relaxing and chilled days – with not many people about as we were outside the tourist season – and consisted mostly of beach, beer and curry. For short journeys, we got around by tuk tuk, which are cheap and kinda thrilling – unlike being a passenger in car you don’t lose your connection with the outside world, and indeed can contemplate just how close you are to colliding into that outside world and toppling over.
On my very last day I felt bad for not having seen any elephants (you can’t go to Sri Lanka and not see elephants!) and so we got a driver to take us sight-seeing: the elephant orphanage, the Royal Botanical Gardens and the Buddhist Temple of the Tooth in Kandy. Although the elephants were cool, it was actually more of a thrill to come across monkeys in the park the same way you might come across squirrels here.
Your Sri Lankan elephant photo
I’ve seen Jungle Book, so didn’t want to get any closer
The journey home was a mind-numbing four flights long, but I did at least get to spend the bulk of that time with Emirates who – I’m almost disappointed to report – are actually very good. Their boastful luxury branding almost made me hope they would be rubbish, but I have to admit that coming home on their double-decker plane was one of the nicest flights I’ve ever had. And it gave me a chance to catch up on some films, so I’d like to round off this post with a cheap imitation of Abbi’s Film Friday juggernaut:
Dominic’s Unconnected Thoughts On (Mostly Disney) Movies
The Amazing Spider-Man 2
Spiderman wasn’t going to miss out on his fake Masters
A poor corporate governance regime leaves sprawling business empire OsCorp (never trust a company with ‘corp’ in their name) in the hands of emo Harry Osborn. Harry is angry at Spiderman for refusing to poison him, so teams up with Electro (giant, blue, somewhat electric, also angry) to get revenge.
I actually enjoyed this, despite not having seen the first film in this ridiculously premature reboot. Fun fact: we saw it in the cinema in Colombo, where for some reason they project a countdown onto the centre of the screen shortly before intermission.
Frozen
Anna had no interest in the ‘Chicago weather’ fetish
Unable to control her power of magically freezing things, Elsa (in my head played by Natasha Self) goes all cold on her little sister Anna (in my head played by Katie Self) instead of saying “hey, I’m scared that I might accidentally kill you if we play the magical freezing things game again, so let’s try badminton instead”. To pass the time, Anna sings some damn catchy songs before falling dangerously in love and triggering a disastrous explosion of magical freezing.
I loved it, though, and I don’t care who knows it. I’m so glad Disney got back into its groove with Tangled and the like.
Psycho
Weirdly, Norman’s Tinder wasn’t getting much interest
Oh, you know this one. On the run after nicking $40,000 from her employer, Marion Crane checks into a creepy motel run by Employee-Of-The-Month Norman Bates and participates in Iconic Shower Scene. Gripping, suspenseful and with a twist ending which I miraculously avoided having spoilt for me before finally watching this, Psycho is a justified classic.
Brave
We’ll see about those phone-hacking charges…
I’d heard mixed things about Brave and I have to agree it’s not one of PIXAR’s best. Rebekah Brooks lookalike Merida is a fiery princess who quite naturally objects to her mother’s plans for a forced marriage. Turning to a witch for help, she requests a spell to change her mother which unexpectedly transforms her into a bear.
You can see where they were going with this – it’s a valiant effort to do a good mother-daughter story – but the problem is that Merida herself is sometimes pretty off-putting. And I’ve been wondering if that’s some deep-rooted sexism in me wanting female characters to be ‘nice’, but actually I think I would be a bit perturbed if a male hero took so long to feel apologetic for deliberately poisoning his mum too.
Beth E . Dubowe-Lawrence on China, Part 3: Chongqing & Chengdu: “Again an awesome adventure to share this with you” Apr 21, 19:13
