I've only ever been to New York in winter before. Today it is sunny and warm and it's like seeing the city in its Sunday best. We head straight into Manhattan and down to Battery Park to the waterfront, the Statue of Liberty across the water, the bulk of the financial district looming over us. Holy cow this city is tall.
We take lots of photos, sneaking the occasional selfie just the two of us so we can pretend the kid's not here and we're on a romantic getaway. In a display of shamefully touristic behaviour, E and I take photos where we look like we're holding the Statue of Liberty between our thumb and index finger. It's a trick of perspective and the statue is actually very far away but it's fun to try and get it right. We review the photos. I've directed E quite well. She has directed me terribly and I just look like I'm holding air. E thinks she looks pregnant. In actual fact, she is pregnant. I also look pregnant. I've been drinking a lot of root beer.
After a picnic lunch, we head off to meet my friend Jon. We both grew up in the mighty South London suburb of Wallington but Jon moved out to the States about 12 years ago. We've kept up with each other really well over the years but have only seen each other a couple of times since he moved and to see him here is just joyful. He's never met E or S before but he starts by presenting S with a teddybear for her birthday tomorrow. The charmer. She hugs him and from then on they're the best of friends.
We all head off to the Staten Island Ferry which is a free trip out to Staten Island. It's a wonderful journey just for providing great views of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. We take a ton more photos, S tears about and Jon and I catch up. Of Staten Island itself I have to be honest, all we saw was the food court at the ferry terminal because we got straight on the next boat and came back. But not before I asked a couple of cops to pose with S. I don't know what possessed me. It's the chipper side of me coming out again. But they're really happy to do it and S gets a buzz out of it.
With hugs all round, we leave Jon back at work and head off into the city. We go to the World Trade Centre Memorial which is these enormous pools in the foundations of where the towers were with waterfalls running into them. It's spectacular and moving. Then we head up to Grand Central, the most stunning train station I've ever seen. Seeing the sunlight pouring through those massive Windows reminds me that I had a huge poster of it on my wall when I was a teenager. Thanks IKEA. I've been to New York twice before and always go to Grand Central, though I've never caught a train. It's because of that poster. And possibly The Catcher in the Rye as well.
From there we head down 42nd Street, snap the Chrysler building (which is my favourite skyscraper) and then to Times Square where S sees someone in an Elmo suit and gives him a hug (for a few dollars). From there we head down Broadway and see the Empire State Building. It's like we're doing a potted tour of New York and it's awesome. Where Broadway meets 5th Avenue, we come to the Flatiron Building and Madison Square Park. It's a beautiful part of the city, with a stunning park, some of the best looking skyscrapers and a bustling food market and I never knew any of it was here before. I love how a city can reveal itself like that sometimes and man, New York does it well.
Tonight we manage to order pudding for just about the first time since we've been here. Mostly, the portions are so big that we don't make it to pudding. In fact, tonight both our meals are among the biggest we've had since we've been here, but we made an agreement before we got into Big Daddy's Diner that we were going to do this. So after we've gorged ourselves on enormous burgers and mounds of tater tots we force down a slice of key lime pie between the three of us because we've never had it before. It's good stuff. But being so full, getting home is a struggle. E and I waddle, S falls asleep.
One day in New York is enough to turn my thumb dressing a murky grey. Back home I slip it off an underneath, my thumb looks...just like it's had a little cut and is healing over. It's almost a non event. I consider leaving it unwrapped but E convinces me not to. "New York does not have the fresh air it needs. Maybe if we were in Maine." I wrap it up again.
I don't believe in fate or that everything happens for a reason. But tonight, as E and I make a typographically shambolic but otherwise beautiful banner for S's birthday tomorrow, we realise we're stuck for string or anything to hang it with. And then I remember the many rolls of surgical tape I'm carting about for my thumb. It's as if the stars aligned when I sliced the top of my thumb off and bled all over the celery and led me to this magical moment. We tape the banner together and hang it from the window frames. Although I just heard it fall down. I'll stick it back up in the morning.
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