Ms Ellis goes to New York City (and Philadelphia)

I’ve yearned to go to New York since I was about 12 or 13 and, I’m ashamed to say, I saw Lois and Clark: the new adventures of Superman. Yes, I know, it was “Metropolis” but it was New York I saw. And then all through high school I saw movies about New York and yearned. Yearned, I tell you.

And now I can say I’ve done it.

And it was spectacular.

I left on 25 September for the US, flying into Newark, where I was met by some friends. I then drove with them to a town near Philadelphia, and we spent a wonderful few days enjoying martinis, chatting, walking, going to the Museum of Art (scene of Rocky and the Staircase of Doom), eating wonderful Italian food, martinis and chat. We also did a side trip out to Lancaster County and the marvellous town of Intercourse, and saw the Amish. It sounds weird to put it like that, like the Amish a breed of something rare and we went to the wilderness to spot them, but I found it interesting anyway. The countryside is particularly agricultural, with actual red barns and sheds. And horses and ponies, the place was lousy with equines. We stopped off to sample quilts and arty things, and I discovered my favourite sub-genre of romantic fiction – Amish romance novels. All very passionate with a stern moral core. Hilarious. I would have made a very bad anthropologist.

I then went up to New York City by train. It was quite dark when I got there, so I didn’t see much, but I headed for my friend’s apartment and we went out for dinner and to see her bookshop (mysteries – I saw about five I wanted but settled on two). And then the next day I woke up and realised that I was in New York. In New York. There was just the tinge of disbelief to the whole week. And even now, a week later, it doesn’t feel real. How could I have been there?

I took myself off to Times Square (I took the subway for a week, by the way, and not one delay announcement did I hear – take that London Underground) and then walked up Broadway to Central Park. I had to duck into Lindy’s for breakfast because the rain came showering down, so I tucked into pancakes and fried eggs and bacon with liberal doses of maple syrup and read Wolf Hall and people watched. Once there was a break in the weather I carried on on my way. My first stop was The Frick Collection, an amazing little art gallery. It was the bequest of a millionaire industrialist with flawless taste in art. He had this house built around his collection, and it’s been left essentially as his. It was staggering – Holbeins mixed with medieval bronzes, Whistlers mixed with Van Goghs, Monets sprinkled about, and an indoor garden with fountain. It was definitely a favourite, and I enjoyed the seemingly haphazard arrangement a lot.

After that it was on to the more staid and formal Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was very imposing and enormous, so rather than get struck down by art fatigue, I decided to only see the 18^th and 19^th century European galleries. Even that was substantial, but it was so worth it. The Van Goghs, the Monets, the Cezannes, the Turners. I nearly cried.

And then it was off to Grand Central Station, to meet M and tuck into oysters and clams, seafood soup and lobster roll. Grand Central Station is like a cathedral, with its big arched windows and the celestial map on the ceiling. We went down to the lower floors to the Oyster Bar, which is where the famous whisper dishes are set into the ceiling. As we were talking I tipped my head back and I could hear my echo. It was very disconcerting and, well, fun! The oysters and clams – holy shellfish Batman. I haven’t tasted oysters that good since I was in South Africa, and the clams…well, I hate to say it, but Mozambique didn’t match up. They were so crisp and fresh, with that delicious meaty, salt water taste.

The following day was beautiful – warm and sunny and clear – so I took in the islands. I went down to Battery Park to get the ferry and was met by oceans of people. Huge crowds who were all thankfully going to Liberty Island rather than Ellis Island, which was my destination. Between the buskers, Wolf Hall and a cheddar cheese pretzel, I was barely aware of the standing around. The buskers would ask us where we were from and then play the national anthem. They knew Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika, which I was impressed with, but they kind of segued into Turkey in the Straw, which was funny. The security to get on the ferry was mad - almost worse than the airport. The Ellis Island museum was really impressive - great displays, wonderful audio guide. The photos really moved me, seeing these people landing with just the clothes on their back and various bags and rucksacks and whatnot, the things they didn't think they could live without. Just setting out. Mostly because they had no choice, but it was an incredibly brave thing to do. My trip was bookended nicely on Thursday.

I woke up really late and then had to race to make it to the Tenement Museum, which was just genius. Having seen the immigrants arrive at Ellis Island, it really closed the story to then visit an area where immigrants tended to settle. The tenement block the museum is in has been furnished to represent different time periods, so you can get a sense of what life would have been like, and how that reflected what New York was like at the time. Just to celebrate the area we went to Katz's Deli for delicious pastrami sandwiches and...oh my God...pickles. So nice. Katz's has been there for years, as in, a New York institution, and it's where the orgasm scene was filmed in When Harry met Sally (that sold it for me in advance). My sandwich was served by a really interesting guy, and we got into a debate with him over the country's defence policies, so the pastrami was even yummier for that.

On Friday it rained, but in a nice holiday way. I went back to Times Square and then just wandered idly around, finding landmarks and taking pictures of them like a tourist. I eventually ended up at Union Square, where I went to see The Social Network (excellent movie all round), and then M and I went to PJ Clarkes for a hamburger and proper onion rings. England does not know how to make good onion rings. I nearly smuggled them out to take on the plane with me, they were that good.

Saturday was a gorgeous day, lovely and warm, so I finally took my longed for trip up the Empire State Building. It was very kitschy, but the view really is worth it. Next time I go (and there will be a next time), I'll go right to the top, at night. See it from a different perspective. I left the crowds behind and headed for Central Park, which was surprisingly idyllic. I sat and read Wolf Hall, and ate a hotdog and another pretzel and revelled in just being there. It was a nice way to end up.

It's always weird when you get something you've wanted for a long time. You're left kind of feeling, well, what next. I loved it - the atmosphere, the food, the thing, you know, that thing. It made me glad and happy to be able to do it, and want to do it again. I'm going to find a globe and spin it and put my finger down and point my nose in that direction and go.