Summer in New York City

I’m not going to say anything about New York City that might not already have been said. But I’ll tell you this, it’d rather be called the Big Onion. Sooo many layers! I spent a little less than two weeks there, peeling away. New York City is not a destination, it is an experience. The place has spunk, and an extremely interesting personality. I now understand why so much art, culture and whatnot is associated with it.

As a Bombay girl, I felt the city open its arms wide to hug me. I hugged right back, but towards the end of my stay I was definitely ready to break away and come home. Nonetheless, I can’t wait to go back! A big thank you and tight virtual hug to my bestie, Shivu, for making this happen. 

In the second post of this series, I’ve listed nine things that fascinated, excited and intrigued me about NYC. Here they are:     

Someone very neurotic planned it

I might have laughed when I realised how easy it is to navigate Manhattan. Seriously, get this: if where you need to go is 55^th street and 5^th avenue, it’s logically going to come after 54^th street and before 56^th street, and right in between 6^th and 7^th avenue! It’s insanely easy to figure out. Just make sure you’re walking along the streets, and the avenues cut across in front of you. Also, Google Maps always helps.

Subways are a blessing

Underground trains for the win! Imagine the kind of space the city saves thanks to its elaborate train network, which is—that’s right—below the streets! It blows my mind every time I think of it. No wonder it has so many parks. Most big sub stations give out free physical maps, or you could find an appropriate app for the phone. Once you’ve figured exactly where you are, rest assured to find a train that’ll get you to where you need to be within five-ten minutes walking distance. (Psst: I got onto a sub at 4 in the morning to get on a 6-am flight. Coupled with the AirTrain, it took me a little over an hour to be dropped outside my terminal from Midtown Manhattan—in $7.5.)

Crowds are my friends

The crowds in the city didn’t let me miss Bombay. There are people everywhere, at all times—ALL THE TIME—which is great. Ditto for the trains; these get pretty packed during peak hours, and there’s always that one person trying to get the door not to shut on them. So you’re basically stuck underground, going through tunnels, with a huge group of people. My favourite part? Perfume! Most people generally smell gooood.

The people are lovely

I was always fed the misconception how cold and aloof everyone is, and how one is one’s only resource in a city like New York. But not that old lady in Central Park who basked in the morning sun with me while telling me about her bygone cycling days or that Mexican chef who refused to let me eat anything but the local favourite, much cheaper than my initial order.

Mad crowds, Times Square, and me.

Safe to say, the people are very helpful and courteous. I’d blatantly walk up to randoms and ask for directions, or to be clicked, and they always obliged. Always! Even if a few were travellers like me, I’m sure I harrowed a neat number of locals too. Also, I made friends with the girl I bought chocolates from at the airport—native Indian but born and bred in New York—and we’re going to go around Punjab the next time she’s here!

Fashion forward

New Yorkers love to dress up. The first thing I noticed about the women was their individualistic styles, and then, their shoe bites. All of them have shoe bites! No compromise is made in the pursuit of looking awesome, and boy, do they get it right.  

They love their tattoos

A lot. Statistically too, Americans collectively spend somewhere in the billions on getting inked.

Food paradise

Food plays a vital role while getting to know a city. So for a food lover like me, NYC and I are besties. Apart from the quantities being huge—they’re really generous with everything—there’s no kind of food I didn’t find here. My most fond memories include eating chicken over rice at the Halal Guys’s cart outside MoMA—a generous helping of orange-coloured rice on a bed of lettuce with a lots of the most well-done Arabic-style grilled chicken on top—and devouring burgers—a succulent Angus beef patty (or two) between soft buns accompanied by the works—and cheese (so much cheeeeeeese) fries at Shake Shack. Must. Control. Drool. Flood.

(L-R) Cioccolato Extranoir (extra-dark chocolate) and Vaniglia (vanilla) gelato at Grom, a lot of dessert at Café Lalo, way too much amazing Chinese food in Chinatown, and ham, cheese and omelette croissant with hot chocolate at Bouchon Bakery. 

Central Park!...and all the other gazillion parks

This is the one, and only, reason I am envious of New Yorkers. This is why I want to pack my bags and move to New York City. Central Park is a country in itself; the most beautiful, welcoming, well-manicured country in the world. I spent two Sundays cycling for two hours each, in between lying on the lawns and striking conversations with randoms, here. You can’t possibly get enough of it on a bright sunny day. People with their picnic baskets, people singing to each other on the green, people running faster than I could cycle, it’s like the movies. I want to make a movie called Life in Perfect in Central Park. It really is! Apart from this one, I tried and tested the lawns of at least five (of the 1,700) other parks.

(L-R) Posing with the Arc de Triomphe-inspired arch at Washington Square Park, cycling in Central Park, and chilling at Bryant Park.

Broadway

The Broadway culture is fascinating, it puts all the plays and symphonies I’ve watched locally in the backseat. I booked my tickets for Wicked and The Lion King back in April to get seats in June/July. And the 1710- and 1933-seat auditoriums were packed. Full capacity! For any theatre and live-performance lover, it goes without saying how important, even crucial, it is to catch a musical when in the city.

Broadway bliss.

I’m a fierce advocate of exploring new places alone or with one other person, tops. I’d make no exception for New York City. Summers are rather lively here when you can truly experience the city and its tempers at their best. 

Just Elvis going home...

Enjoy Chicago like a local

I recently got back, feeling greaaaat, from the trip of a lifetime. I spent three amazing weeks in the East Coast, exploring four major cities of the USA. My trip started in New York, where my bestie from high school lives, moved on to Boston and Washington, DC, and ended in Chicago, where I camped at a hostel for five nights, and was lucky enough to catch up with some of my awesome family.

My first time in the West was much more educational and fun than I had anticipated. It was extremely pleasant, weather and otherwise. News from there is that a change is coming. Most of my preconceived notions came flying back to homeland. I observed, more than once, how our generation of Americans believes in marriage, more than one child, and healthy food. It is the perfect cross-culture experience I wish for everyone.

In my first post in this four-part series, I’ve made a list of must-dos in Chicago, if you’re visiting for less than a week. A city not to be underestimated, there is A LOT to do here. As a lover of the arts, culture, music and lying in the grass, here are my most cherished memories of the Windy City.

Eeeeeeee!

Walk the Magnificent Mile

It’s the safest way to start exploring the city. Michigan Avenue, popularly known as the Magnificent Mile, is a kilometre and a half of awesome. Famous for being home to every luxury brand you know, besides those you don’t, some very beautiful and important buildings can be spotted here.

Since my hostel was right in the middle of the Loop (Downtown Chicago), I did my fair share of walking up and down this street. Grant Park, which comprises The Art Institute of Chicago, with its resident green bronze ‘guard’ lions in the front, Buckingham Fountain, that refused to fit in a frame when I was too close, and Millennium Park, home to the glamorous Chicago bean, is lush green and, on most days, sparkled after a short spell of rain.

Beanie!

I’d then walk towards Oak Street Beach, at the end of the mile. Basking in the sun but on my guard against the rain, I’d stop at a bridge that runs parallel to the Renaissance-inspired white terra cotta-tiled Wrigley Building, the chewing gum giant’s headquarters, for a sigh-worthy view of the city. Opposite it is the Chicago Water Tower, originally built to pump the very green water out of Lake Michigan that flows below it, but now a tourist office.

One day, before I found a bench at the beach, I caught a quick shot of the John Hancock Center, once the tallest building in the world, in all its black metal glory—antennas and all. I should add, somewhere in between all of this, many of the shopping places, and Ghirardelli’s chocolate and ice cream store, were very welcome distractions.

Awesome in the name.

Visit the Fine Arts Building and the Art Institute

It was so cute to see how excited volunteers at my hostel were about the lift in the Fine Arts Building, a block from my lodging. Why? “Because it’s operated by a live human!” Small joys. Apart from riding in this historic building’s vintage elevator, walking its corridors and down the art and music school’s antique flight of stairs—appreciating the beautiful paintings that adorn the walls—is quite an experience. My favourite part was tip-tapping to the music that streamed out the closed doors on every floor. There’s nothing like visiting a music school during practice hours.

According to my Lonely Planet-wielding Swiss roommate, the Art Institute of Chicago, right opposite the Fine Arts Building, “should not take you more than two hours to cover”. I was there for a little less than five. I see myself as someone who believes in Santa Claus more than visiting a museum, but I’d kick myself if I hadn’t done this. For anyone who remotely appreciates colours on a canvas, and the history of art and culture, this place is a must-visit. For me, the modern and expressionist art wing was a total win. The Indian arts’ section and the one with various American Indian wears was a delight too.

Somewhere in the middle of the Fine Arts Building, and funky tribal wedding wear at the Arts Institute.

Stand on the ledge at Willis Tower’s Skydeck

Not recommended for the faint hearted, this was definitely the moment of my trip to this city. The observation deck on the 103^rd floor at Willis Tower, formerly known as Sears Tower, offers a breathtaking view of the city as well as four states—Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and Indiana—on a cloudless day. It is installed with four ledges that extend four feet outside the building, made of clear glass on three sides, which made me feel like I was suspended in mid-air!

From on top of the world!

Lie on the grass in Millennium Park

I spent half a beautiful summer’s evening doing this. The park is home to a massive theatre screen, so in between my short naps in the green, I caught bits of Amadeus and a light drizzle.

Movie time in the grass.

Take a bus to Hyde Park

My hostel’s notice board was full of recommendations by locals on things to do. Early one morning, I ambled to the board and randomly picked this one, a 20-minute bus ride to the south of the city. The bus dropped me at one of the numerous lush green parks in the middle of the area, from where I walked to the University of Chicago—past rows of little brown-bricked houses with neatly trimmed lawns.

Though it predominantly houses students and facility, Hyde Park is a fairly diverse neighbourhood. I walked past several churches, quaint bookstores, Frank Lloyd Wright’s landmark architectural project—The Robbie House—and Obama’s home. I spent most of my afternoon exploring the Oriental Institute and the Smart Museum of Art in this area, which are a hotchpotch of art and culture, and have free entry. 

Go thrift shopping at The Brown Elephant and see the Wrigley Field

The Brown Elephant, a thrift store by the Howard Brown Health Center (Midwest's largest LGBT health org), is a retail store with a cause. Proceeds from it go towards services for more than 50% patients at the Center who are under or uninsured. A short subway ride north of The Loop, I got to the store an hour before it closed. It’s basically a really large warehouse; where I not only sifted through racks of clothes, bags and shoes but also was tempted to buy crockery, jewellery and furniture! I ended up picking up a few books and comics minutes before the attendants were ready to go home.  

On my way back, hordes of baseball fans, sporting White Sox jerseys and caps, streamed out of the metro station. My curiosity got the better of me, and I mapped my way to the ginormous Wrigley Field, where this major league club was playing. The field has netted doors, manned by three people at the time, which allowed me a sneak peek inside—the baseballers looked right out of the movies. Their ardent fans’ zealous and loud encouragements followed me all the way back to the station.

Eat

Chicago’s famous deep dish pizza cannot be missed! I sampled this heaven-on-a-plate at Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria and was absolutely bowled over. The tug of war between the cheese on my plate and that in my mouth was the best fight I’ve witnessed.

I always wanted to chow down a true American-omelette breakfast. Yolk, at the southern tip of Michigan Avenue, made my wish come true. I did not want their five-egg omelette, stuffed with possibly every delicious thing in the world, to end. It’s even more of a delight with their thick strawberry and orange juice.

As luck would have it, I was right in time for the world’s biggest and Chicago’s 33-year-old food fest, Taste of Chicago. A stone’s throw away from my hostel, I bought strips of coupons at the venue, and was off to sample as much as I could from the 30-40 odd stalls, put up by the best of the best restaurants of Chicago at Grant Park.

Was that afternoon a daze; from what my taste buds remember, the Bobak Sausage Co's Polish sausage with grilled onions and mustard, chicken pot stickers (dumplings) at Star of Siam, and Original Rainbow Cone’s multi-coloured ice cream are what my dreams are made of.

Food trail—epic burger and shake at Epic Burger, Yolk’s classic five-egg omelette, and Ghirardelli’s ice cream. Y-u-m.

Visit Green Mill for a live jazz performance

My hostel organised an evening out, on my last night in the city, to one of Chicago’s most cherished and famous jazz lounges, Green Mill. It was the best farewell I could have asked for.

I read about this iconic place while planning my trip, but honestly, I was a little scandalised. It is famous for once being owned by the notorious gangster, Al Capone, where he loved to unwind with live jazz performances. Our group of five along with Chuck, the guide, entered this shady-looking Chicago hotspot at 8pm, sharp, for seats right in front of the band. Chuck pointed out a semi-circular table, with its backrest to the stage, as Capone’s corner. He explained how the mafia lord would enjoy his music and watch the door to make sure he doesn’t leave with a bullet to his head.

What a yay!

We grooved to the captivating music of Matt Ulery’s Loom, as the epic club filled up. Though it felt like a local train before we called it a night, Chuck insisted it’s much crazier during the winters! Later, we walked a block to see the birthplace of Hollywood, the Essanay Theatre, where Charlie Chaplin made most of his silent movies. 

For best results, visit this neurotic-weather city in summer. 

Holiday in Brussels, Belgium

I've taken so long to post the last instalment of this series that I might have aged a little. Nonetheless, here it is.

The first city I visited in Belgium was big bustling Brussels. Our motley crew was on its own for most of the day because of an unfortunate incident that occurred with one of us. Like when in any big city, guard your belongings with your life here.

I felt at home in Brussels because like my city, Bombay, it too has high BP. The pulse of the city is amazing, and there’s really no end to how much you can explore. I wrote about it for Bombay Gymkhana’s monthly, Black & Gold, recently.  

The heart of Belgium

Being a tourist outside our hotel in Brussels.

Soon after we were introduced to Marleen, our guide for the day, she made an interesting point: “Brussels is a city of extremes”. She patiently waited as we decided to play the annoying tourists, fresh off the plane, and snap each other, before leading us to our first destination. I ambled behind her and noticed two peculiar-looking buildings across the road while trying to navigate pedestrian traffic on the busy street. Juxtaposed with an unimaginatively constructed, plain-old glass building was a 19^th century palace-like edifice.

Old-world charm

I stuffed my hands deep into my jacket’s pockets and tried to stay in the winter sun as we entered Galeries Saint-Hubert. I had to stick to a stone wall at its entrance, allowing enthusiastic shoppers pass, to register what lay ahead. Sunlight streamed in from the transparent glass roof, making the avenue of shops glitter on both sides, for as far as I could see.

This oldest gallery in Europe has everything Belgium has to offer under its majestic façade roof. After all the girls were dragged away from the fifth bags’ store, Marleen took us to Neuhaus, the birthplace of praline chocolate—small pieces of chocolate with varied soft fillings. We were like kids in a chocolate store. The friendly Belgian behind the counter offered us paper bags full of chocolates that we shamelessly chomped down. 

Fuzzy from all the decadent dessert and with no doubt why Brussels is considered the chocolate capital of the world, we walked towards the end of the gallery, passing Saint-Hubert’s numerous lace stores, open air cafés, comic shops, beer pubs and even a champagnotheque—just like a discothèque but for sampling more than 150 types of champagnes.

Belgian royalty

We crossed the street and entered a narrow lane, catching a glimpse of a gypsy fair on our right, on the way to the heart of Brussels—The Grand Place. This UNESCO World Heritage Site is an opulent testament to the country’s diverse culture, economic well-being in the days of yore, and breath-taking architecture skills. We stood right in the centre of numerous royal-looking buildings—between artists sketching the hustle-bustle around us and small flower shops—for our lesson on the square’s history.

Brussels’ 15^th century Town Hall (essentially a court of law), with its high tower right in the centre, dominates The Grand Place. Various intricately designed sculptures adorn the façades of this city’s crowning glory. A team of workers were dismantling a make-shift stage across from where we stood, and right in front of what immediately became my favourite building on the square.

Natasha and Eva, the cuties posing pretty with the Town Hall in the back at the lively Grand Place.

La Maison du Roi (The King’s House) was a 16^th century bread hall before the present 19^th century building was made in its full gothic glory, black spires reaching for the sky and all. Apart from its mesmerising and intriguing exterior, it houses the city’s museum that includes the wardrobe—comprising about 840-odd costumes—of the celebrity statue and city’s symbol Manneken-Pis (literally Little Peeing Man, colloquially The Pissing Boy).

La Maison du Roi and me.

I clicked away at the four distinct styles of architecture around me, completely in love with the hotch-potch of gothic, opulent baroque, neo-classic and neo-gothic tastefully created wonders.

Fun on the streets

Brussels is also the birthplace of one of the finest comic characters of all time, Tintin, with a museum and souvenir store dedicated to this Belgian journalist and his friends. We bid goodbye to Marleen, before she mapped the way for us to see the pissing boy, and set out to explore the narrow, cobbled streets of the city.

Guess who.

Every few meters, I stood at a traffic signal or next to a lamppost to get a good shot of one of the countless comical wall murals and frescos on buildings or boundary walls. We walked past large groups bantering over coffee or beer, street musicians on their guitars and a number of cycle rental places.

Two of the many wall murals I spotted in the city.

As the sun started to disappear and the wind got cooler, we sat on a bench next to a water fountain at a roundabout. As soon as we were ready to call it a day, our senses were suddenly flooded by the whiff of freshly baked waffles that floated towards us.

The hypnotising aroma of Belgium’s staple dessert carried us to Dandoy’s waffle house where we decided to camp for rest of the evening, indulging in sinfully delicious, ice cream-smeared, waffles slabs.   

Waffle makers and a bucket full of chocolate at Dandoy's.

If you’re travelling from India, like we were, Brussels is most likely where you will land in Belgium. If you’re travelling anywhere from Europe, the Eurostar should be your best friend.

(L-R) Me, Natasha, Eva, Rosella, Dheera and Dustin dining in Brussels.

Explore Ghent, Belgium

It's 2013 already! I hope to be surprised this year (only pleasantly), and inspired, and surrounded by people who make me happy. I hope all of this for you, too. 

Coming back to my ongoing idea, the second part of the series is about the university city of Ghent in Belgium. My favourite memory of this place is when we asked for directions to the nearest H&M store, someone said, "Oh, it's two lanes away from the big castle. You can't really miss that." Safe to say, architecture, art, and rich culture that spans centuries blend into each other seamlessly here.

PS: Flying with Jet Airways to the foreign this month? Follow the drill as instructed in the first part of this series.   

Past, present, future perfect

Anne Marie stopped at the bend of a crossroad and pointed at an interesting looking building, “Where else will you find such a schizophrenic town hall?” she asked with no expectation for an answer. I made up my mind about this capital city of Flanders (North Belgium), five minutes into conversation with our guide for the day. Red lips, purple glasses, punk hair, leather jacket and boots—this 60-year-old sure was old wine in a vintage bottle. 

Like everything else about this small, primarily student city, Ghent’s architecture is a paradox. Our group squinted at the building together, immediately noticing two distinctly apparent architectural styles on it. 

Ghent’s groovy Town Hall

The right side of this imposing 16^th century structure is flamboyantly gothic, with its age-old window panes and hard-to-identify dark stone statues in the front. A strong influence of the Italian renaissance, which came much later, resonates from the left in a simpler style of neatly designed lines of windows and golden gild work.

Walking along, our guide said that its architecture narrated the history of the city, and was not built to make a pretty picture. A little ahead from the town hall, right opposite a 13^th century cellar tucked under a 19^th century building, I whipped out my camera for shots of Ghent’s 200-yard, fully dedicated graffiti wall that keeps its large student population creatively busy.

As we discovered, most of Ghent’s old buildings and chapels date back to anywhere from the 13^th to the 18^th century and many are (understandably) under restoration—which is why we saw so many cement-mixing machines on the roads.

Art meets architecture

Our group of five held on tight to our jackets and munched on chocolate to keep warm (we were still in the chocolate capital of the world) as we entered Saint Bavo’s Cathedral, a distinctly gothic edifice, with intricately designed tall towers. The building’s majestic layout and numerous paintings overwhelmed me as soon as we stepped in. The ceiling reached heavenward, the altar was at the end of rows of pews and the nave was flanked by grisailles–paintings I would have conveniently mistaken for sculptures had I been left to my own devices.  

We ambled through the large front hall, past vivid Biblical artwork on the stained glass that brings alive tales from the holy book. Then, we headed towards a tiny enclosure at the rear of the cathedral to see what is considered the most important painting in Flemish history—The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb, created by the Van Eyck Brothers sometime in the 15^th century. The fact that one of this 24-frame, visual wonder’s panels was stolen in the early ’30s lends it an added mysterious charm.

We came out into the bright sunshine right in time to catch the pealing of bells that announced the arrival of afternoon. Right opposite the cathedral is Ghent’s symbol of worldly power—the bell tower, Belfry. I stood under this impressive 14^th century tower trying to get a good shot of the dragon that sits atop, keenly watching the city.

Anne Marie convinced us that there is no better vantage point and 360 degree view of the city than from the four sides of this tower. So we climbed the narrow, winding steps of Belfry—ditching the elevator—and reached the top huffing and puffing only to see the winter sun hitting the roofs of rows of tiny constructions beside the rattling tram lines.

Saint Bavo’s Cathedral as seen from Belfry

Retro today, here tomorrow

Ghent’s diverse buildings bear testament to the economic highs and lows the city has seen over centuries. Anne Marie asked us to try and read the history of the city’s economy through its façades. While one house was sprawled across half a street, another was sandwiched between a store and a building. Nonetheless, each one of these was adorned with carvings and small statues that lent them rich appeal in the city’s times of adversity.

As the touring and ambling continued, we passed the city’s 15^th century, fully-functional Great Butchers’ Hall, fascinated by the chunks of meat hanging from the wooden ceiling.
A little off the meat place, as we crossed a regular street pointing out antique stores to
each other, we were startled to see a surreal castle right out of The Lord of the Rings in front of us.

Gravensteen and me

Gravensteen or The Castle of the Counts will first intimidate and then intrigue. This massive, 10^th century fairytale-like fortress is right in the middle of the city. A museum of torture equipment, a guillotine last used in the 19^th century, dungeons and the works, a tour of this castle is definitely not for the faint hearted.

Evening was approaching and the clouds looked ready to burst. We then decided to make our way to Veldstraat, Ghent’s cobbled stone shopping avenue in full excitement.

By this time, I was ready to call it a day and my stomach agreed—so I decided to get a serious taste of Belgium. On local recommendation, I sat at a little table at Max’s waffle place in the heart of the city and ordered their fully-loaded, crisp caramel waffle—with fruits, whipped cream, bitter-sweet chocolate liquor and all. Safe to say, from that moment on, this city made of stones in every colour (as Anne Marie called it) earned my respect and love for ever more.    

Yuumm…

Though the internet says Ghent is 30 minutes from Brussels by train, the 45-minute road trip is recommended thanks to the beautiful countryside. Take an early morning stroll along the canal that flows through the middle of the city or book yourself a canal cruise one evening to experience quaint Ghent from under the sleeping willows.