Travel hazards 1: losing it

Lost and Found (to date)

1 x Katmandu waterproof hat: somewhere in Chicago

1 x Katmandu waterproof hat: somewhere in New York with sunglasses, see below

1 x Pair of sunglasses, possibly lost on a number 3 bus uptown New York, or somewhere on 5^th Avenue

1 x Moleskin red notebook, of type used by Bruce Chatwin, very precious, since it contains Colin’s field notes; possibly lost in 16/196 Elizabeth St., Manhattan* apartment or in a taxi on the way to the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal 12 on Sunday 12th September, the day of the Brooklyn Book Festival, between 10.15 and 10.45 am

1 x Pair of red multi-focal spectacles red with bronze arms brand unrecalled, in red case, faux alligator skin case, on QM2 belonging to Claire

1 x Pearson and Mason hairbrush on QM2; lost but now found.

x¹⁶¹ x Irreplaceable memories, somewhere and most of the time!

Nothing else found to date.

*Reward of $US100 offered for return of red notebook

QM2

Queen Mary 2: a destination in itself? 20th September:

While we treated the Queen Mary 2 as a means to cross the Atlantic from New York to Southampton, many of our fellow passengers treated it as a destination in itself, and what a destination. It was one that celebrated excess in most of its guises, but particularly the epicurean. It was possible, should you be that way inclined, to eat yourself 24/7, to euphoria and oblivion, providing that is you were willing to obey the dress code and which requires formal attire, meaning a dinner suit for men, ball gowns for women. After 6pm jeans, shorts and t-shirts are prohibited in public areas, infra-dig. Presumably, you starved if you forgot your bow tie or Chanel bag! This is the passengers’ part in upholding White Star Service—and which the QM2 and the other members of the Cunard family of liners which, it was stressed, are not the inferior species of cruise ships—exemplify.

For seven days we have been players in Queen Mary 2’s theatre of luxury, bit players, perhaps even extras. The scenery was art deco, the costume formal and the action, when not set in restaurants, took place in the Royal Court Theatre (with apologies to the one in Sloan Square) where the Julliard Jazz Quartet gave masterly concerts and the Illuminations where, as part of the liner’s enrichment programme, we attended a brilliant series of lectures (would that we had heard more of them) on American politics presented by Nigel Bowles (Oxford University) and another series by Thom Gorst on the last one hundred fifty years of modern architecture, and which upset the forty three Australians on-board because he failed to include the Opera House from his list of the twenty most significant buildings. Number one—by popular voter applause—was New York’s Grand Central Station!

Eating then was not the most pleasurable thing on our transatlantic trip. It was the intellectual not the gustatory stimulation that proved the more rewarding for us. However we both agree what we most enjoyed was the voyage itself (especially as the Atlantic proved more pacific than our Pacific crossing), sitting out on the beautiful wide decks and watching the ocean in all its myriad nuances. And what would be a voyage without the thrill of departure and arrival. We left the United States from Brooklyn terminal, past the Statue of Liberty late on a drizzly Sunday night and arrived in Southampton Water early enough on the following Sunday to see a clear starlit sky make way for a dawn welcome to the United Kingdom.

Re; New York

Re: New York, 8th September

New York is only city that we know where having a perspective on things is a literal truth. If you look uptown or downtown you immediately see the effects of foreshortening. New

York also puts every other city on the planet into perspective. There can be no other city like it for sheer plenitude. It is also a very young city, and for that reason, seems to be very sexy and prurient. The torrid temperatures seemed to have induced an undress sense. There might be more people in other cities, but New York seems to have more of everything else: more beautiful paintings, more beautiful objects, galleries and museums, libraries, apartment blocks, more famous people, and just so much to see and do. Two weeks is simply not long enough to ‘do’ New York. You need a lifetime; and if you had a lifetime here you’d be tempted to stay here; why go anywhere else when the city has the best of everything, is the best of all possible metropolitan worlds. The only thing it does not seem to have is classical CD shops, which like bookshops have been decimated by downloading, Amazon, chains like Borders, and high rents. It also seems to be a city in which, save Harlem and some of lower Eastside, gentrification is endemic. It has certainly infected SoHo where our micro-apartment (micro because it is actually smaller than the cabin we occupied on the Utrillo and whose paintings are remarkably thin on the ground in US galleries) is located. The area is filled with boutiques, boutique bars and restaurants, antique shops, galleries, markets and it pulsates with life 24/7. It is refreshing to go to coffee shops other than the ubiquitous Starbucks. We feel quite old staying here because its demographic is by and large between twenty and twenty-five and a quarter. The GFC certainly seems to have by-passed this area.

When the whole of New York is one big highlight it is hard to pinpoint our special highlights. On emerging from the cavernous Penn Station, Colin was overwhelmed by the pace and frenetic pace, which after Chicago and Boston was up two or three notches. How could people possibly remain sane in such a maelstrom of humanity and traffic. Well, they’d probably go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET) and spend the rest of their lives in front of a Degas ballet painting or take a spin around the Guggenheim or sit in the sculpture courtyard of the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) and bask in the sun beside the Maillol sculpture or, best of all, go the Neue Galerie and have a coffee in the Café Sabarsky after enjoying the Egon Schiele portraits. Alternatively, after having done the Magnificent Mile of Museums one could go to Central Park, and sit beside one of the lakes and watch, as we did, men who would be boys sail radio-controlled yachts. And while on nature, one of the unexpected pleasures is the High Line, which is a kilometre of ‘greened’ and naturalised freight line, in the heart of the Meatpackers’ District.

We have also been on a ferry trip around Manhattan and to Brooklyn, which affords magnificent views of Manhattan and offers something of a refuge from Manhattan close-up. Not surprisingly it was attracted to writers such as O’Henry, Arthur Miller, and, at one stage, W. H. Auden whose apartment we managed to discover. We also had a quiet afternoon and evening with friends Fran and Charlie on Long Island where their charming home is situated amid dense greenery and is the quietest neighbourhood we’ve been in thus far. How nice to be spoiled with real home cooking for the first time in ten weeks (not our apartment version).

Lastly, Governors Island, just a few minutes by ferry ride from Downtown, offers yet another perspective on New York. It provides a respite from the madness of Manhattan. In many respects it is an island version of Central Park. It is a top spot for those wearied by the internal combustion engine that is NY. Best of all, it is a cycle friendly island.

We are going to be sad to move on from here especially as our next adventure has us embarking on our second voyage—this time on the Queen Mary 2 between here and Southampton.

Our New York Top Five

Colin’s: Governors Island; Pierre Bonnard’s “Basket with Bananas” (MET); the Chrysler Building; the fire escapes draping the Brown Stones; Mulberry Street, SoHo.

Claire’s top five: Brooklyn Heights; High Line; MoMA sculpture garden; view of water towers from the Circle Line Ferry; Central Park (“The Ramble”)

Boston "T"

Boston “T”: 28^th August, 2010

Finally, we have managed a city’s transport system, in this case, using Boston’s Charlie Ticket, which provides a card to ride the so-called “T”, buses, trains and ferries. This has reduced the stress associated with being mobile. But while we were able to cross Boston with aplomb and confidence walking around Harvard Yard and Harvard Square without getting lost, taxed our brains. Cambridge (which is home to Harvard and MIT) is NOT Boston; indeed, it is an academic city, which pulsates night and day with mental energy—many seem to be ensconced in their iPad or Kindle—particularly at the moment when the university is admitting its freshmen and women and of which we were able to take advantage.

We have explored the delights of Beacon Hill and Back Bay (Boston’s equivalent to Chicago’s “Magnificent Mile” though with a distinctly more French accent); we have experienced the best of public libraries with the new Cambridge Public Library just across the park from where we are staying and the Boston Public Library with its wonderful Singer Sargent murals and its free Friday jazz poetry concert where we heard Robert Pinsky, US poet laureate perform along with a saxophonist and percussionist.

We have eaten really well each evening through our own discoveries and from recommendations from our cordial Bed & Breakfast host David. We have also met very interesting people who have asked us about our travels and shared their tips for the getting the best out of this region.

Today we made an excursion to Gloucester, just north of Boston, which is one of the US’s oldest ports, one long associated with whaling, and latterly with the Rocky Neck School of Painters. It was also the home of American poet Charles Olson, whose Maximus series is set in Gloucester and which is about to celebrate the centenary of his birth with a conference. It transpires that Olson was instrumental in helping to preserve much of the town’s waterfront. On the recommendation of the Pollocks whom we met in the Gloucester Public Library we found Olson’s apartment and actually met his landlord who said Olson was “a pain in the butt”. Thanks to the Pollocks we also explored the Cape Anne Museum, a beautiful regional museum displaying regional art, fishing and quarrying cultural history as well as a wonderful collection of early furniture.

And getting back to Boston and its famous tea party (not to be confused with the recent one which is having a powerful influence on Sarah Palin’s faction of the Republican party) we don’t know whether our request for tea in a china cup was being parodied when Colin’s arrived in this oversized cup. Boston like all US cities we have experienced appears to be in love with the chain café and the disposable container for taking one’s coffee or tea in or out. We just don’t get it.

Chic Chicago

Chic Chicago, 20^th August

Chicago is by far the most exciting city we’ve visited. It is a place whose action mostly takes place above one. By that we mean a lot of the time one’s head is peering upwards, to what must be one of the interesting skylines on the planet. Every building appears to have an architectural provenance as we discovered on our cruise on the river, led by a ‘docent’ from the Chicago Architectural Foundation. The trend upwards began with Louis Sullivan, was consolidated horizontally by Frank Lloyd Wright, and was given an international focus by Mies van Der Rohe whose 860-880 Lake Shore Drive is across the road from our DeWitt Place apartment, conveniently located close to the Magnificent Mile (a paradise for the chic minded), Museum of Contemporary Art and Lake Michigan. (Although we haven’t to date managed to get across Lake Shore Drive to the lakefront as there are few underground crossings and the drive is an impenetrable traffic barrier, an example of poor urban design.)

We enjoyed the new wing of the Art Institute Chicago (designed by Renzo Piano). The post-1900 European collection rivalled those in Washington and Philadelphia. The Cartier Bresson retrospective demonstrated the camera’s power and influence in the twentieth century. Adjacent to the Art Institute is the Pritzker Pavilion designed by Frank Gehry (of interest to us as Sydney may soon to have one of his buildings on the site of an old ice-cream factory site in Ultimo). Another highlight of our stay was a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s home and studio in Oak Park—the architect who attempted to “break the box” of home design. Inspired by the visit, Claire is reading a biography of Wright and tomorrow we plan to visit Robie House.

For the first time on this trip we are staying in an apartment. We are experiencing a version of home away from home. It is so refreshing to cater for ourselves but only after discovering a farmers’ market and Treasure Island, which claims to be America’s most “European supermarket”. The helpfulness of Americans continues and here we have had useful advice from older Chicagoans, many of whom have visited Australia. Even so, our accents are not easily understood, particularly by bus drivers and voice recognition devices.

Washington: throne of world power

13th August: Washington: throne of world power

Washington is more than the White House. It is the Smithsonian museums (twelve in all), the art galleries, the public transport system that is insufferably complex (particularly when it comes to fares payment), the unbearable humidity (20 ninety degree days in succession) and the paucity of restaurants (at least where we are). It is easy to whinge about Washington but it is equally easy to be impressed by the monumentalism of Washington, the scale of its mostly Greek columned buildings and what they house. Even its railway station is a monument of Acropolis proportions. The Chester Dale (let’s not forget his wife Maude too) collection (which cannot be loaned) at the National Gallery of Art is worth a visit to Washington alone. We’ve yet to find out what treasures are housed in the West wing of that gallery—that is how much there is to see! That is the problem with Washington: there is just too much to see, and most of it is free, which makes the pressure to see even more imperative. Washington is so spaced out, walking from museum to museum let alone around them, is putting a toll on our legs.

Americans with their enthusiasm and pride in their country flock to Washington in these long summer holidays and family groups, including families with twenty-somethings as well, are everywhere. The gowns of the first ladies is a great exhibit for us ladies as well as Julia Child’s kitchen, both in the Museum of American History. Colin found a lot there to interest him including early phonographs. He was also nearly arrested in the Library Congress, where his Swiss Army knife brought him to attention of the security guards, especially when he hid it under a bush, in the grounds of the Capitol building. If he had been caught on camera, as he had been by the Library of Congress cameras he would have been arrested and possibly deported or sent to Guantanomo Bay.

We also had some time out from the Smithsonian overload with a day out cruising down the Potomac River to George Washington’s very experimental farm and home at Mount Vernon. When the fish were running George Washington and his hands would catch 1.5 million fish to feed the family and their guests for the whole year round. This tour provided a fantastic insight into the great man as well as a vignette of early settlement and the defence systems along the river to protect the settlement from invasion.

At the time of writing, we are sitting on the spacious veranda of the Morrison Clark Historic Inn, which is heritage listed and has paid host to a number of first ladies in its time, including Jackie Kennedy whose photograph graces the lobby. Across from us in a small triangular park homeless people are settling in for the night around the base of a monument. Washington is the sort of place that constantly reminds you that it is the throne of power, but the powerless are also well in evidence.

Finding our Landlegs in Philadelphia

Independence Day, 8^th August

Philadelphia Cheese was standard fare on the Utrillo; now we are here, without the cheese, independent of the ship that has been our home for the last five weeks, almost. Adjustment to dry land has taken some time, particularly fending for ourselves: finding places to eat, books to read, trains, and trolleys to catch, museums to visit, not that there are any shortages of the latter in Philadelphia. The most spectacular to look at, both inside and outside, is the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The contemporary collection (Duchamp’s galore) is nothing short of miraculous.

We are staying at the Alexander Inn, corner of Spruce St and Twelfth, which is a most convenient location midway between the old town and City Hall. It is a real inner city location with many cafes and restaurants with in easy walking distance, very helpful proprietors and most congenial environment being a late nineteenth century hotel revamped to modern expectations. It overlooks commercial gothic and art deco buildings that are a feature of Philadelphia downtown. Philadelphia is a lived in city. The houses and laneways hereabouts, which practice Quaker sobriety, are most attractive—models of what inner-city abodes should be.

As well as art museums, we have walked and walked the historic area, Society Hill, the French quarter as well as two long walks to Philadelphia Museum of Art and to University City. We have eaten really well each evening and discovered the Reading Terminal Market as a great lunch location. Our one misadventure has been to catch the train to Germantown where we felt completely disoriented and out of place. Obviously it is usually a tourist bus route and not set up for the wandering tourist. The trips there and back did show us a different side of Philadelphia as did the area around City Hall, early Sunday morning.