(read part one here)

wednesday

got up and ready for our daytime bus tour, which thankfully left from just round the corner from our hotel. we first got off at central park for a little wander, and pointed out ideal spots for discovering dead bodies like on law and order. saw lots of cute dogs, a drunk/crazy/obscene shouty man, strawberry fields and john lennon’s old apartment block (yes, where he was shot.) getting back on the bus, we had the best guide of the trip - a fabby new york native who was very entertaining, funny and informative. with her, we went on a long ride uptown, and saw the sights of harlem, including bill clinton’s offices, all of which i snapped with a disposable camera. my mum was downstairs by this point (she gave in to the freezing cold), and i was upstairs on my own, but happy with the nice guide, crappy camera and some junior mints (YUM!)

my mum really wanted to go the metropolitan museum, so when that stop came up, we got off the bus. the met is indescribably huge and so beautiful. it was chaos outside, with army cadets, teenagers, hot dog sellers and lots and lot of groups of people milling around the front steps. we went inside and headed for the gift shop for a few souvenirs. we had a great browse but then had a ‘discussion’ about whether it’s a waste of time to spend a large chunk of a holiday looking at paintings, what the restaurant would be like and whether it’s OK to pay less than the ‘recommended’ price for admission (new yorkers like our guide say YES, my mum says it’s too rude). so we ended up not seeing anything and just got back on the bus. “isn’t the met wonderful?” our new guide asked us.

“oh, yes.”

we’d agreed to stay on the bus for a while now, and we did, right until we got to the upper east side and the plaza hotel, where the stop for bloomingdales and serendipity was announced. we decided to make an unscheduled stop. i’ve read, heard and watched so much about the world-famous serendipity 3 (you might have seen the film?) that i had to take the chance to drag my mum there. even if it was a seven or eight block walk.

my feet died but i went to chocolate heaven when i was served with the signature dish: a goldfish bowl-sized drink of frrrozen hot chocolate which is officially the most delicious thing in the whole entire world, EVER.

we also had a foot long hot dog each and were so full we practically had to be rolled to bloomie’s. we stopped on the way at dylan’s candy store, ralph lauren’s daughter’s pet project. then to bloomingdales, where a juicy couture lady gave me a sample of their new perfume… for dogs. 

we looked at some super-expensive jewellery and make-up and then went to the lovely xmas department, where i bought a tree decoration in the shape of the famous bloomingdale’s little brown bag (with a snowglobe inside, of course). i wanted to go to barneys, bergdorf goodman and the fao schwartz where tom hanks danced on the giant keyboard in big, but we were too exhausted. so we got back on the bus and headed to our new favourite shop, drugstore duane reade (they have everything!) for drinks and painkillers and then got couple of subway subs ‘to go’. i got meatball marinara, totally just so i could be like joey tribbiani.

we collapsed in front of the TV with our subs, vowing to set off earlier and get back earlier the next day.

which didn’t quite happen…

thursday

“i’m sorry but that light looks like a boob,” was the first thing my mum said to me on waking (after a thankfully nightmare-free sleep).

as i watched the news while my mum showered, i discovered that pupils across america were being given detention for daring to - gasp - HUG their friends. also, that a dessert in one posh new york restaurant was going for the bargain price of 25,000 dollars. i never did work out what it contained, exactly… we got back on the tour bus where our first guide was a bette davis-esque scary lady. her motto: “if you’re talking, you’re spoiling it for yourself. if you’re talking so other can hear you, you’re spoiling it for other people.” her other motto: ”i will tell stories, you should listen and not try to guess or point or speak. just wait for the punchline and you’ll enjoy it all much more.”

she told us not to get off at the first stop, but her brusque manner convinced us as never before that we needed to see macy’s in all its largest store in the world glory, so off we hopped. ah, bliss. macy’s is wonderful. more affordable than bloomies, more touristy, yes, but more FUN. i discovered i could get an 11% discount card just by flashing my passport, and made great use of this in the jewellery department, where i piled my arms a little too high, but who could blame me with the great exchange rate and so many pretty pretty accessories?

after a great spree, we sat on the mezzanine-level starbucks and drank and people-watched. we were too early for the famous xmas window displays (not to mention the famous thanksgiving parade) but we enjoyed the christmas decorations and music in the store all the same. we then went by bus downtown to the site of the world trade centre, which was a real change of pace. it makes me cry just to think about it. it’s such an unprepossessing and yet emotionally charged place. i wish i’d been like the clever folks there who wore sunglasses but i wore my normal glasses and fogged them right up.

we didn’t stay long before using the loos at the century 21 across the way where i kept setting off the security beepers for some reason. back on the bus, we went one stop and then walked to the staten island ferry, where there was a big queue to get on and no room to stand outside. unfortunately, once on the ferry we were on the wrong side for the statue of liberty, so apart from a bridge (manhattan? brooklyn? williamsburg? no idea) it was a bit of an uninspiring view. “you can just stay on the ferry and come straight back” my dad had told me… but they’d changed the rules. we had to get off, walk (in my case, limp) for miles, and then get back on the next ferry after a 10 or 15-minute wait. my feet wanted to die (i know i’m moaning, but i have plantar fasciitis or as laypeople call it, AGONY of the feet) but the journey back was lovely. sailing into new york we stood on the outside deck as seagulls swooped around us, dusk drew in and the statue of liberty and that fabulous skyline came into view.

unfortunately, the bus back took ages, and there weren’t that many interesting things to look at on the way, and it was as cold as i’d ever been. but having tried and failed to get a taxi it was our only hope. later than we wanted, we dashed back to our hotel (where a woman in the lift said “ladies, you’re bundled up - it’s not that cold!” and it took all my self restraint not to DECK her) we got changed, i got snappy about the fact that i hadn’t eaten yet and then we went to see the lion king. our first broadway show. it was great, but as brilliant as the show was, i was even more excited to EAT. we went to one of those diners that serves huge portions fast and without fanfare, which my mum hated but i kind of liked.

friday

up early… okay, that was a lie - up not at all early, we walked, or in my case hobbled, to port authority (the bus station) where we just made it in time for the 11.30 bus to woodbury common shopping outlet. it was raining, dark, and very cold but not to worry: shopping malls are all inside, aren’t they?

er, no. brrr.

strangely, we had one of the nicest meals of our holiday at woodbury common - sesame chicken with rice and vegetables which was lovely and almost as importantly, WARMING. we came out of the food court and straight away saw our respective meccas: for my mum, the clarks outlet store. for me, le sportsac’s outlet store was emitting its siren song: cheap bags! cheap bags!

money was spent. 

i also got two watches (one of which is just GORGEOUS but i still have no idea how to tell time with it) for £60 and some lurvely betsey johnson jewellery to add to my macy’s cache. my mum got some bargainous shoes from the clarks shop and some cheapie crabtree and evelyn stuff (which was no doubt imported from england, yet half the price. odd). by 5.30, we’d only seen about a sixth of the mall but our feet (especially mine) were sore and we’d been rained on just about enough, so we set off for the 5.45 bus. turns out about 300 people had the same idea, for when we got to the bus stop, there was the biggest queue i’d ever seen in my life.

enough to fill three or four buses, at least. it was now pouring with rain. i was wearing a thin jacket, my mum had no hat and we didn’t have an umbrella between us. it was dark, bleak, and freezing cold, and we had dinner reservation for 9.30. we went to the visitor centre to see what was going on. a rather flustered-slash-clueless employee told us that the bus company were sending three more buses (but as new york is at least an hour away, this was obviously going to take a while). what about a taxi, we asked? she informed us that the torrential rain meant dispatchers wouldn’t consider sending drivers out of the city. great.

TO BE CONTINUED.