An afternoon at the Lunatic Asylum

After a long, leisurely lie-in (the jet-lag had been getting to me), Rachel and I started our second day with a second visit to EJ's. We ordered exactly the same meals, were served by exactly the same waitress and almost sat in the exact same spot. I think we were both feeling a bit overwhelmed by the 'newness' of New York (haha) so appreciated the familiarity.

We split up after brunch so we could have a proper explore on our own, and I decided to wander downtown in the direction of the Roosevelt Island tram. Roosevelt Island is a tiny, thin strip of land located just east of Midtown. It's mostly residential, although it does have a few tennis courts/gyms which lots of rich Upper East Siders go to when it's warm and they want to practice their backhand. It's also historically where the city kept its prisoners and mental patients (and, as a result, the island is now filled with abandoned asylums, hospitals and prisons, which I hear are explorable. Future blog post, perhaps?).

Because the island is so tiny, it's pretty inaccessible. Until 1976, there were no subway stops and no buses - the only way in was apparently by a rickety lift which descended through the centre of the bridge. Now though, one of the best ways to get there on foot is, bizarrely, by cable car. It's a pretty surreal experience walking along the packed streets of New York and suddenly looking up to see a bright red cable car, full of commuters, streaking across the sky.

But, once onboard, I realised what a great perspective on the city it gives - pieces of historic New York that would usually be ignored when on the ground suddenly loomed into view. Anyone who's visited New York will have climbed one of its perilously tall skyscrapers in search of that bird's-eye city view, but few will have found themselves moving through it - dodging buildings and bridges on both sides.

Once we landed (it really felt like flying!), I decided to have a wander. The view from the park was STUNNING. You can see the entire length of Manhattan's East side from the edge of the island. I found a nice spot to rest by the water, and it was so warm and peaceful with the water lapping against the shore that I ended up staying for four hours. I had a good book (Jeffrey Eugenides' The Marriage Plot) and a whole bench to myself, so barely noticed the time passing.

After my restful afternoon, I met up with Rachel for a mani-pedi at my fave nail salon up in Yorkville. Even just a couple of days of pounding New York's pavements had left our feet sore and blistering, so by this point a pedicure was pretty necessary. We ended the day with veggie burgers and frozen margaritas at Dallas BBQ, and tottered home to bed, well and truly sozzled.

Today (Sunday), has been mostly spent recuperating. I actually haven't even left the house yet and it's half 6, so that will have to be remedied pretty soon. Tonight we're going to head to the Lower East Side to check out a few more old haunts (namely 16 Handles, the home of the best frozen yoghurt in the world) and possibly a few new ones. 'Til then, sayonara!

Love letter to New York

Well hello, anonymous blog reader. This is the first day update, written almost three days in. That's the thing about New York - when you're in the city that never sleeps, you don't really have much time to either, so blogging is basically impossible. But here it is, my first day update (with photos). I'm really enjoying incessant photo-taking (though I'm not sure if Rachel feels the same) so will hopefully keep this up. Anyway, here goes!

We landed in New York after a memorable plane journey which involved sitting on the upper deck (!) of a Boeing 747 within touching distance of first class and befriending an 18-year-old photographer who'd just come from partying with Kanye. After touching down, we hopped on a Super Shuttle and sped into the city.

That first night was a bit of a blur - being back in New York felt (and still feels) very strange, and during the Super Shuttle ride in I found I didn't recognise anything. The massive Shake Shack in Midtown wasn't here the last time I was, but now it's not only been built but seems to have become a proper part of the landscape. That's the thing about Manhattan - it changes so constantly that you hardly notice it changing.

After a bleary, jet-lagged night's sleep, we woke and started exploring the neighbourhood properly. The Upper East Side has got to be one of New York's most well-known areas, but it's mostly escaped my attention on previous trips. It's really exciting to be in a new part of town this time though - although I'm less than 50 blocks from the last place I stayed, the atmosphere (shops/bars/restaurants/people) are all so different from the last it's like being in a different state altogether.

Some things never change though, and in the spirit of familiarity we decided to start our first proper day with a breakfast at EJ's. Pretty much all my NY trips have centred around brunches at this place - starting the day with waffles, maple syrup, massive milkshakes and bacon has got to be the most American of experiences. This time, I opted for eggs, home fries and streaky bacon, along with the mother of all milkshakes - a black and white (a mixture of vanilla and chocolate with lots of chocolate sauce). Our waitress was also particularly fantastic - every request was met with a peppy 'you got it!' and apparently our British style is 'so cute'.

After gorging ourselves on American cuisine in the diner's sun-soaked, street-side conservatory, we headed off to Duane Reade (the Starbucks of pharmacies in New York - they're literally everywhere) to buy our prepaid phones. Armed with snazzy Samsungs, we headed to Central Park to soak up some sun. We encountered many buskers as we wandered through - including one girl who was somehow managing to play the violin and hula-hoop simultaneously.

Eventually, we stumbled onto the boating lake, probably my favourite part of the park, and decided to find somewhere to sit down. The morning had been sunny but not too hot so I'd opted for jeans, but sitting by the lake in the full sun of mid-day made me regret that decision a bit, so, while Rachel sunbathed, I tried to find a bit of shade next to her by a strip of lawn across from the fountain.

We people-watched (most of whom were tourists and rich kids with their nannies since it was a workday), and then, rising from our sun-induced stupor, ended up doing a massive trek round New York in search of the best Forever 21. This led us first to Union Square (where the F21 that was my favourite in 2009 lives) before we remembered the massive one on Times Square and headed uptown. After I'd spent a good portion of my dollar on unnecessary and impractical items in their glitzy, crowded, four-floor store, we made our way back to the Lower East Side to see Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind (the 30 plays in 60 minutes show I volunteered at back in 2010).

Being back in NYC and revisiting all my old haunts two years on still feels very strange, but also very much like coming home. Although new places have come and gone since I was last here, my old favourites are still around, still stable, still adding 7 (or so) new plays to the roster every week. And, as we sat on the steps of Union Square Gardens before the play, munching on bread and dip in the dimming light, surrounded by throngs of students and artists (and one homeless fashion designer proclaiming his love for his sewing machine), I realised what it is I love about New York. Amid all the change, and the tourists, and the pop-up shops, this city has a static core. The faces of its vibrant population may change, but its identity remains the same - we're all just a bunch of oddballs, mingling together in the hum of the evening heat.

When life gives you lemons, move to a lemon-coloured townhouse

One week ago today, I finished my last ever exam and left formal education for (hopefully) ever. And in less than 24 hours, I will be in New York City. There, amid bustling commuters and hot steaming sidewalks, pressed in on all sides by skyscrapers, I am hoping to start a new life. For one month.

For one month, I will pretend to be a real New Yorker while living in a lemon-coloured townhouse on the Upper East Side. I will laze by the lake in Central Park, try every frozen yoghurt flavour 16 Handles can throw at me, and go to brunch every Sunday (a tradition I have attempted to recreate here in England with little success).

When it’s over, I will retreat to drizzly old England. Until then, I’m hoping this blog will become a memento for what may well be my last New York trip for a long time.