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I slip into New York like a pair of old, beloved jeans: it has moulded to my skin and I to it. It feels good here, comfortable. Like I never left.
HANG ON, REWIND!!
QUICK RECAP:
I left Sardinia (a day-long trip, from small island to big island to airport, in the air over the Channel, down to London, two trains and a walk – I was finally home!) and spent 10 days in London.
Returning to London always makes me feel good – in 19 years of living there I only ever felt bad once when returning: this was at an extremely low point in my life, when I was just getting out of an abusive relationship, was broke and having legal problems, was homeless and London was dark, grey and rainy. No wonder I felt down, huh? Anyway… Even stepping off the plane I can smell that London smell and feel like I am at home, in a way that never happens with Rome.
I spent the week hanging out with dear friends, talking loads (Skype is good but not the same!) and feeling good that I am an integral part of these wonderful people’s lives. I was also greeted by a sunny Peckham, and again I felt extremely lucky to have this as my home, and to know that, when all this nomading is done (when? No clue) this is where I will be returning: to a place that feels like a perfect fit.
The only let down of the London week was the by-now standard letting down by men. There are several men in my life, buzzing around, maybe afraid to bite or maybe just not interested. While I travel there is a lot of texting, and finally when I am in London, nothing ever really materialises… go figure? The nature of men to me is becoming more and more detached from concrete day-to-day life and more “ethereal”. But I keep going my way.
SO ANYWAY… BACK TO NEW YORK!
I’ve also had the experience of a lifetime, travelling First Class over the Atlantic. Seriously, no words can express the difference from economy. How will I ever be able to go back to cheapskate travelling again??
New York is hot, humid, the air electric. The subway cars ride and jolt, sliding me off my seat, making me bump into other bums.
I look around at this mass of humanity, congregating every day in such a small space.
A million, no several million, universes, clashing into each other. Many are unfair, people who’ve never been outside the borders of this area, some who haven’t even been to Manhattan… parallel lives that may never intersect. It is both overwhelming and electrifying. You feel like anything is possible, even when very little actually is. But hey, this is NY.
I walk around the city in a daze. I eat quirky, interesting food, I meet some friends, I visit the Highline, I go to the cinema (my favourite past time in the USA). I go on two dates. One was 🙁 the other one OK. I move on.
I often think that in a parallel universe, I made NY my home instead of London, so it will always have a special place in my heart; unfortunately now I feel that to being again in NY I might be too old, too tired.
I struggle with my luggage to get to Penn Station in the suffocating heat. Here I catch the Vermonter train to Brattleboro. Coming from Europe, the experience of American trains is a curious one. The carriages are old, but roomy and comfortable. It’s a Saturday and the train is half empty – in the UK it would be packed to the gills. There is free wi-fi. The train actually moves at quite a low speed. It’s like the trains of old: you can watch the country go by, read, or be cradled to sleep by the gentle sway. Once you get further from NY, most stations don’t actually have “a station”. They are just designated points on the track. There is no platform, so the train attendants have to tell you which door to get off at, where they set up steps to get you down to street level. Fascinating. Oh, and there’s only one of these a day… talk about car lobby!
Next update: VERMONT