Hooters and sirens, the smell of car exhausts mingled with hot dogs and Chinese food, blue sky glimpsed between endless towerblocks – it was a world away from mountain air and the scent of pine trees we’d been breathing in a few hours earlier.

We’d landed in the Big Apple and it took a bit of adjustment.

“Which part of England are you from?” drawled a friendly hotel receptionist.
“Dorset… in the south.”
He nodded and a slow smile slid across his face.
“Have you been there?”
“Never, but I heard it’s nice.”
I think he was just pleased to have correctly identified an English accent.

New York was steaming that afternoon. It was a humid 30 degrees and every other person was wearing trainers. My boat shoes didn’t quite fit. This was a flash trip to the city we’d planned to visit in 2012, but Hurricane Sandy had blown away our plans that October. I was looking forward to soaking up all that the city had to offer.

It was almost my first time in New York. The very first visit was just before Christmas when I was 17. I was on route to South America and had landed in a snow storm. My mother and I had used our best English to direct the taxi driver to what we thought was the right location. It wasn’t. After a second hefty taxi fee to the correct bus terminal we found we’d missed our connection and had to wait all night in a Greyhound station. With our luggage stacked around us, we whiled away the hours watching long haired characters picking through the bins and being chased off by patrolling police. It wasn’t the best introduction to America – things could only get better.

We’d been sent tips of “must see” places from friends who had recently moved back to the UK from New York. I compiled a list and tried not to look at the ticket prices. We had four days and a credit card. Our days were packed and varied but there was one constant – the walking! There was usually a slower start, to let breakfast go down, and at the end of each day we’d arrive back at our hotel with sore feet, so grateful for the air con and the enormous comfy bed.

My personal highlights were: 

• Approaching the Statue of Liberty by boat and thinking about the mice on The Rescuers
• Walking beside a sparkling Hudson River and trying to picture ‘Sully’ landing his plane
• Seeing The Vessel at Hudson’s Yard for the first time which took my breath away and made me even more proud of our architect son who was part of its design team
• Soaking up the city lights and a sparkling Empire State Building from the top of the Rockefeller Centre (Top of the Rock) at night
• Cycling through Central Park which had a lot more hills than Hyde Park
• Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge and humming ‘I’ll be there for you!’
• Listening to ‘You’ve got a Friend’ in the Carol King musical on Broadway
• Taking a ride in a yellow cab driven by a taxi driver called Jean, who asked us to pray for him and his family

I wouldn’t want to move to New York mainly because:

• The traffic – there’s too much
• The noise – also too much
• Too many tall buildings
• The pound – you don’t get much dollar for it at the moment!

But I love the fact that… Manhatten is surrounded by water and you can glimpse the blue of the Hudson river at the end of lots of streets. I also like the wide pavements and occasional green oasis like Bryant Park punctuating the high rise buildings… the fact that you can wear whatever you like and no-one will care. Everyone is relaxed and people don’t seem to walk as fast as they do in London… but maybe this was because it was July 4^th weekend.

In the middle of our stay we visited Ground Zero and the 9/11 memorial museum. I didn’t include it as a highlight because it wasn’t a comfortable experience. However, the architecture and the tone of the whole area respects the thousands who were killed and the many hundreds who sacrificed their lives to try and save others. I found myself staring into one of the two black pools where water flows into a dark central opening and where the names of those who died are engraved around the edge. It’s a solemn place and the museum itself takes visitors on a journey through the unfolding story of 9/11, almost minute by minute. An interactive graffiti wall allows visitors to add their doodles, comments and reflections. While I watched someone who stated they were from the Muslim faith wrote a poignant message which mingled with one by someone whose father worked in the World Trade Centre and was among those who had come home that day. I left hoping and praying nothing on that scale ever needs to be built again in response to a terror attack.

New York is still a bit crazy, but full of surprises and definitely worth visiting again. In any case, it was so much better than a night spent in a Greyhound station;)!