Island hopping
Valentine's Day! I woke with a mild hangover, and found some cold pizza in the bedroom. I ate it. I put on some dirty clothes, looked in the mirror, realised my hair looked ridiculous, splashed it with some water, then went across the road to buy some Alka Seltzer.
The Alka Seltzer put me in a suitable condition to shower and dress, and we left Phoenix to tend her hangover — she refused the AS herself. We had a bagel each for breakfast, went back to the hotel for a forgotten Metrocard, then got on the R train headed for the Liberty Island ferry.
To our surprise, the train overshot Whitehall St. and we couldn't get off until Pacific St., Brooklyn. The upside of this was that the train crossed Manhattan Bridge and we got to look out of the window over Brooklyn Bridge.
The solution to the overshooting train problem was to get a local train, rather than an express train, and soon we were in Battery Park buying tickets for Liberty Island and Ellis Island.
The boat was waiting for us, but by the time we had cleared the elaborate airport-style security measures, it had gone and we had to stand waiting among far too many British people, for the next one.
Finally we were on board, and we set off surrounded by seagulls and Brits.
As we rounded the Statue of Liberty, and pulled up to the jetty, and English woman asked Debbie, "Excuse me is this Ellis Island". "I think it's Liberty Island", Debbie replied, resisting the urge to add "The clue is in the big green statue over there." She believes it to be the most stupid question she's ever been asked — and remember we're talking about someone who teaches HND.
We made a circuit of the island led by an audio tour, and learned, erm, a load of stuff about the statue and the people who made it.
I enjoyed Liberty Island and suggested that it could be described as one of New York City's undiscovered gems. Debbie concurred, adding that it was New York's best kept secret.
We queued in the cold for the ferry to Ellis island.
As we reached the island, I overheard some kind of educator explaining that 40% of Americans can trace their ancestry to someone who immigrated via Ellis Island.
.
The audio guide whizzed us through the museum in two hours or so. The only thing I'm not clear about is who the non-immigrants are. I think it's possible that in this kind of museum "immigrant" is shorthand for "poor immigrant": in America surely everyone's an immigrant except the Native Americans?
I liked the photographs of the interiors taken between the time when the island was abandoned and when its restoration as a museum began. They were inexplicably creepy in a Silent Hill sort of way.
Half of the island is off-limits, where the hospital buildings have been worked on to halt further deteriation, and are "mothballed" awaiting further renovation.
We caught the last ferry back to mainland, and decided to walk via the Twin Towers site. It's a big hole in the ground. There are some quite touching tributes graffiti'd on the surrounding boards.
We cocked up slightly getting to our subway station, and found that we'd walked the entire width of Manhattan (the narrow bit). We backtracked and got the subway to Macy's, where I had agreed to let Debbie take me shopping for half an hour.
Debbie claims I got carried away in Macy's. We were there for a total of 45 minutes, and I bought three pairs of jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie.
We got ready quickly, then got back on the train to Canal St., where we were meeting Phoenix for dinner in Chinatown. We plumped for Mr. Tang's. Phoenix eschewed beer for Fanta. Although we ordered individually, when the food came it seemed more sensible to share. At the end of the meal, the waiter asked how everything was, and we said it was "lovely". "Rubbery jubbery", said the waiter; obviously an Only Fools and Horses fan.
We could barely keep our eyes open when we got back to the hotel. Although we bought some beer to drink in front of the TV before sleeping, we never finished it.