C = C Line

Note: This is a long one, got a lot to share, so if you’re up for reading on I’d recommend making a cuppa and grabbing a biccie. I've also included pictures, they're at the very end of the blog but they're topsy turvy, scroll all the way down and go from bottom to top for a chronological visual tour of our C Line adventure, next week I'll get this picture thing sussed!

Saturday, 11am, a glorious sunny day in New York and I’m off to deepest Brooklyn with Simon - my amazing 26wks partner in crime and genius map reader - to get on the first subway stop of the C line. We’re going to ride it until the last stop in Harlem, getting off at all stops along the way that have the letter C in the name and doing something in that area – 12 stops in total. I haven’t done much research, we’re just going to go for it and see what happens.

On our way to the start line we pass the huge cemetery you see on the drive into Manhattan from JFK airport and find out it has a whopping 530,000 graves, that’s a whole lot of haunting.

We arrive at Euclid Avenue, East New York on the border of Brooklyn and Queens. East New York, I’ve subsequently found out, has a population of around 90,000 and distressingly over half the population lives below the poverty line. Cypress Hills is close by, one of the most dangerous places in New York in the ‘80s, this is the place where police were shot at from the tops of the high rises whenever they tried to enter the area. It goes without saying I’m pretty happy to have Simon with me on this challenge. There’s not much around, vacant housing, wasteland, a scrapyard, a pawn shop and a bodega, we decide to grab a 50c cup of coffee from the guy in the bodega behind a floor to ceiling reinforced glass screen (puts my $4.96 starbucks grande latte bad habit into perspective), take our pic of the subway stop and move on pretty swiftly, to say we stuck out like a sore thumb is the understatement of the year and we’re eager to get going to see what the next stop has to offer. As we’re about to set off we hear the local mosque call to prayer, we follow the sound and see all the local Muslim men on their way to pray, as they do five times a day. Interesting.

We get on and next stop is Van Siclen Avenue, this is closer to Cypress Hills and I’m feeling quite unsettled, everything about us screams Manhattan, we’re being watched as soon as we get out of the stop, we’re clearly and understandably not very welcome and again there’s nothing to do, nothing at all in this area. This is the start of one of the day’s key takeaways - how lucky we are, how good we have it, how we’re spoilt for choice in all aspects of our lives. We see a sign for the local Baptist church and head there, unfortunately it’s shut up for the day, we’ve now wandered off a bit into nowhere and we’re alone on the street, we decide the sensible thing to do is to head back, jump on the C and get to the next stop.

We’re now at Broadway Junction, a mass of underground and overground trains, noisy and chaotic. As we exit we’re given a flyer advertising Habitat for Humanity housing available in the area, we’re humbled. To see more of the area on our journey we decide to walk to the next subway stop along Fulton Avenue. We’re immediately struck by how many churches there are for all different faiths, ranging from big buildings with a steeple to small rundown buildings with just a cross and the name of the church hand painted roughly on the door. We’ve walked for about half an hour when we reach our next subway stop on Malcolm X Boulevard, our walk has taken us through Bedford-Stuyvesant, the home of Jay-Z and what was the largest ghetto in the US in the ‘70s and we’ve counted 26 churches. That’s a lot of churches. The diamond district of churches. Next to pretty much every church is a beauty shop, worshipping takes place at the alter AND the manicure station.

At Utica Avenue, we’re still in Bed-Stuy, we hear gospel singing, absolutely brilliant, we peek through the church door window, not wanting to go in as we’re in jeans and warm clothes, nowhere near the correct church finery. As we’re about to leave a teeny tiny elderly lady comes out, about to apologise for intruding we’re stopped as she grabs us and pulls us in with the biggest smile on her face, desperate for us to join her in the praising of the lord, as neither of us are religious we feel a little fraudulent but this is priceless, this is what it’s all about, this is the experience I’ve been hoping for, you don’t get this opportunity everyday. We’re given two seats at the back and watch an incredible scene, singing, dancing, instruments being played, people clapping, kids with microphones, it’s simply fantastic, I feel very lucky to have been asked in, we’re invited to stay for lunch but politely make our way out, trying not to intrude too much, overwhelmed by how kind and welcoming everyone is, incredible big spirited big hearted people.

Next stop Clinton/Washington Avenue, we’re now in Downtown Brooklyn and it’s immediately different, wine shops, cheese shops galore. We head to a photographic exhibition I’ve read about and end up walking into MoCADA - Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts http://mocada.org - the exhibition is closed but we buy a book - On The Wall, four decades of community murals in NYC - we’ve passed so many amazing murals on our way that this seems fitting. As we’re about to leave we check with the nice fella running the place as something isn't ringing true about where we are, sure enough we’ve walked into the wrong place, we want the building next door, handily he can unlock it for us and we can privately take a look at the exhibition I’d read about…. photography depicting councilman James E. Davis and his campaign against gun violence, he was the guy who single-handedly got Toys “R” Us to stop selling exact replica toy guns to kids. A good man. In 2003 he was shot and killed inside City Hall by his opponent for his council seat.

Off we go and we’re speeding things up a bit, it’s now 2pm and we have a lot of stops to go. We reach Hoyt St-Schermerhorn St and see the American Red Cross offices, we go to donate but they’re shut so Simon decides to post money through the door, probably a bit weird but the sentiment is there.

Next stop Manhattan. We’re meeting our friend Ben at the famous Bubby’s http://bubbys.com/ close to the Chambers-Church St stop. Bloody brilliant, very yummy Tribeca price brunch, $20 for eggs, makes me feel fairly frivolous keeping in mind the neighbourhoods we’ve just travelled through. As we’re at Bubby’s Pie Company it would be rude not to order the oh-so-american Michigan Sour Cherry Pie, it’s unbelievable, go there as soon as you can and order it straight away with ice cream on the side.

Refueled and warmed up we head off to Canal St. By the way MTA, if you’re going to disrupt services at the weekend please put up signs that actually make sense, thank-you. What do you do at Canal St? Well buy something fake of course. I fundamentally disagree with this and know not to help fuel crime in the City but my morals fly out the window at a scarily fast speed as I’m swept up in the excitement of helping to barter a good fake Bell & Ross watch for Simon down from $65 to $33, not bad not bad at all. (Note: it broke down within 12 hours).

It’s dark now, 5pm and we’re slowing down, we have to press on, we’re off to Columbus Circle, we’ve got to find something I’ve never done before and as I work in this area it may not be easy. Arriving we remember MAD – The Museum of Arts and Design http://www.madmuseum.org/ - has opened and we haven’t been yet, excellent. We pay and find out we have 25 minutes to see 5 floors of exhibitions, love that, art on speed. “Slash – paper under the knife” is fantastic, uber talent on show, it’s on until April 4th so plenty of time to see it if that’s your sort of thing. A few sneaky pictures, a lot of running up and down the stairs and at 25 minutes on the dot we’re leaving, we’ve managed to cover the whole museum ticking the box well and truly.

Next stop Cathedral City Parkway on 110 St. We get on the C line which doesn’t stop where we need it to but happens to be going express all the way to our last stop 125th St-Saint Nicholas Avenue, Harlem. We decide to flip our last two stops and get out on Martin Luther King Avenue and right in front of us is the legendary Apollo Theatre. All lit up in red as it always is, nothing quite like seeing an iconic place in front of you without expecting it. The show playing is a sell out so we walk on to find something else to do at this penultimate stop, we pass a sign that says Bingo and immediately know this is it. It’s going to be hard to describe the scene but I’ll give it a go, up a flight of stairs and through a door into a huge very brightly lit, decayed, church-run bingo hall. The smell of fried food permeates the whole room and we’re, once again, standing out like a sore thumb. We investigate what we have to do to join in and we’re again treated to the loveliest, warmest, friendliest people probably in the whole of New York, they give us four different bingo sheets, one bingo “tablet” and tell us to buy markers and find a seat. Our markers are not just any old markers, they’re “Dabbin Fever” markers, genius. We sit down on a table with a group of people who have been doing this for a LONG time, they range from 40s-60s and have a lot of sheets, they’re pros. This place is a real community, a place for people to come on a Saturday night, it’s cheap, friendly and hey you may win some cashola, there’s probably about 200 people in total, all eagerly facing the big numbers screens on the walls. A lot of people have brought in cushions to sit on, some ladies have a range of markers, one lady has eight in all different colours. Now, I remember Legs Eleven and Two Fat Ladies Eighty Eight but this isn’t that type of Bingo, this is serious bingo. Luckily we’ve been taken under the wing of our table crew and we learn about lucky sevens, powerball numbers and early bird games. The only part we’re not joining in with is getting a huge paper plate full of fried foodstuffs, lets just say SlimFast wasn’t doing a roaring trade at this get together. “Father” takes his place at the numbers station and we’re off, as we get closer to the end and the sheets fill up you really start to feel “Dabbin Fever” in the air. Ladies are excitedly calling out the last number they need and when Bingo is shouted out by the lucky winner everyone is business like, tossing away their sheet pulling out the next one and all eyes are up on the boards again, there’s no pause, no time for chit chat. After a polite hour of participation we decide the night’s games will last until late and as much as it’s fun we’ve had our experience and we’ve now been going for eight hours solidly on this anthropological tour of NYC and quite frankly a glass of wine is needed.

We travel back to Cathedral City Parkway, it’s now our last stop, at 110th St at the top of Central Park West. We walk along the park through the Upper West Side, the contrast again is incredible, we walk 40 blocks, reach the 70s, spot a wine bar and decide our last challenge is to choose between Pinot Noir and Malbec. The first sip never tasted so good. We started at 11am, it’s now 8pm and we’ve travelled from the East Village to Brooklyn all the way through to Manhattan then all the way up to Harlem and back down to the Upper West Side. We’ve probably done about 12 weeks worth of 26wks experiences in one day and oh what a day it’s been, what a city. Thank-you C line, who knew what gems you had to offer.

ps: big shout out to Gemma who gave me the inspiration for this challenge, thank-you lovely xxx

B = ballet

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life….
-William Shakespeare

Week two and last night we went to see the most famous romantic tragedy of all time, Romeo and Juliet by New York City Ballet, at the Lincoln Center on New York’s Upper West Side.

Having not been to the ballet since I was very little, this qualified as something new (adult life new) and New York new (the burlesque show involving a cross-dressing ballerina seen two summers ago in Coney Island definitely does not count). The Lincoln Center www.lincolncenter.org is an incredible production in itself, the atrium is full of lights in crystal button shapes, almost like the whole place has been done with a bedazzler and an outside terrace overlooking the spectacular courtyard perfect for a pre-show glass of champagne.

The sound system is out of this world amazing, the orchestra is phenomenal, conducted by the teeniest tiniest lady ever. Juliet twizzles around on her toes so effortlessly, a small bendy creature that can be whipped up into the air without a second thought, moving about the stage in a supernatural way. My fave characters by far were Lord and Lady Capulet, graceful in a slightly more grown-up way, and I loved how Lady Capulet’s costume resembled a giant purple butterfly. Scene VI – The Tomb scene didn’t disappoint and while I had a little tear I thought how strange it was that unwanted arranged marriages still go on today and how sad that there’s probably a modern-day Romeo & Juliet out there somewhere. While I was impressed and moved throughout I don’t think everyone was, the big fatty next to me managed to sleep throughout both Acts, pausing only to adjust his snoring when nudged by his long-suffering and diminutive wife, the mind boggles.

One other people observation to report, a new sighting for me, a woman in her 40s had created an exact mini-me in her 12 year old daughter. Identical skirt, cardigan, tights, shoes, broach, even the haircut was exactly the same. Cloning retro style perhaps.

As for blagging it backstage, I failed last night, however I met a lovely lady who’s given me a name and number of someone who she thinks can help me, I have to call her on Tuesday. My backstage dream, unlike the ill-fated lovers, is still alive.

So if you’re thinking of buying tickets and seeing the performance yourself, definitely do, it’s worth every penny. Fellas take a date, I know it’s cliché but it simply will work.

ps: If you want to pop for a bite beforehand I’d recommend Landmarc just down the street www.landmarc-restaurant.com, great food (chopped salad is excellent and they give you wonderful chewy caramels when at the end) speedy service and fabulous wines at very reasonable prices (the Landmark Vineyard Californian Chardonnay is excellent).

A = art class

Saturday was kick-off day for 26 Weeks. It was icy cold in New York but the sun was dazzling, shame I wasn’t. Friday night’s one glass of wine led to what felt like one hundred glasses and while I would’ve loved nothing more than to stay very, very still and cuddle a never ending mug of hot coffee I refused to fall at the first hurdle so I hauled myself out of bed and got ready to have a go at crafting my very own mug in a clay class.

One sausage roll later from, in my opinion, the best sausage roll makers in the City www.tuckshopnyc.com and I was feeling vaguely human again as we trotted along (by we I mean me and hubby-to-be Simon who generously gave up an afternoon of Premiership football to join me, perhaps regrettably now) to Chinatown to New York’s Education Alliance http://www.edalliance.org/ a non-profit organization that “changes lives and renews the minds & spirits of the weary”. Weary is definitely a word I would used to describe myself, as for the changing lives part well that remained to be seen, lets say I wasn’t holding my probably slightly boozy smelling breath.

In we go to be greeted by a very smiley man who tells us our names sound like movie star names, quite odd as couldn’t really be further from the truth but in my fragile state I’m happy with the compliment and the warm welcome. The classroom is pretty cramped, fairly hot and smells of clay, naturally. We grab the last two seats and settle in for a fairly long demonstration by the teacher. One thing is clear, clay is simply not just roll and go people. It’s all about patience. Oh dear.

We begin and it’s messy and tricky and very repetitive but I’m remembering to be patient. While stroking my clay lovingly into shape I check out the other people in the class, a good hodgepodge, there’s the girl who won’t stop beaming at everyone in a Stepford Wife way, there’s the chatty girl who just wants to make friends but is getting nowhere with me, hangover = not chatty. Then there’s the obligatory guy who smells bad, why is there always one to be found in a classroom? Dance classes, food classes, clay classes, all classes…smelly person. But then there are a couple of people who are just genuinely nice, big-hearted, warm spirited and above all patient. Their mugs are good, very good. Mine isn’t and towards the end I pretty much convince myself that mugs don’t need handles, they’re just for show-offs, until I see Simon’s managed to create one for his mug, clearly there’s no way can I go home with the booby prize pen pot and he gets the gold medal mug so I sort of slap one on and I’m done. It’s not going to start a new career for me and I certainly don’t think it’s going to change my life but I’ve made a mug and in three weeks it will be baked and ready to take home. It felt good, I’d done something new, I’d got off my bum, I’d brought a new mug into the world.

As we walked home we received a text message from our friend who we blame entirely for the night before, he had a new suggestion for letter A….“A is for Aaah f**k it, I’ll start next week”. Nice.

Ps: pictures to come next week with letter B, an oversight with letter A. B = Blagging it Backstage at the Ballet on Friday night, not going to be easy but I’m going to give it a go. Wish me luck!

About 26wks

This week I grew another year older and as it also, rather handily, happens to be the first week of the new year I took a long hard look at myself, you know how you do, you don’t intend to, you tell yourself it’s really just another week in another year but still you go ahead and do it and make a few great resolutions and after the third glass of bubbly you’re convinced that this is the year that you will actually do it, make it happen, be a better, more rounded, more interesting person. Then the ball drops, not just in a Dick Clark Times Square way but in a you dropped the ball, you failed in your resolutions way. Well, this year I say no, no, no, I’m going to put down my wine glass and head out into, arguably one of the best cities in the world, on my very own journey of voyage and return.

As I like a neatly laid out step-by-step plan (I blame it on being an oh-so-sexy Capricorn­­ mountain goat) I will be setting myself a new challenge or booking myself in for a new experience each week according to the letters of the alphabet, A-Z, hence 26 Weeks. I will be taking my first bite out of the juicy big apple tomorrow with “A” for Art Class at the New York Education Alliance, an introduction to clay, for two hours. Art was my worst subject at school and I have pretty grim memories of being huffed over by an Art teacher with severe halitosis and protruding nasal hair so I’m hoping this experience will be an improvement on that. Patrick Swayze….. if you’re out there….I’ll be waiting.

So as I get ready to head down the yellow brick road to test my courage and imagination I’ve realized that the possibilities are endless but there can only be 26 challenges. So if you have a genius idea for a letter I’d love to hear about it, if you’d like to join me I’d love to see you and if you’re up for taking a bite out of the wonderful world we live in I challenge you to launch 26 Weeks in your own Emerald City.

Tune in tomorrow as I tell you about my arty farty experience and I’ll give details of the class too, just in case you fancy whipping up a misshaped mug yourself!

Ps: I’ll be writing up my letters each week until the final installment on July 4th with “Z”. Next week’s “B” is Blagging it Backstage at the Ballet.