December 28th 2011: The day of Megabus.com.
The plan was for me to take a comfortable and scenic bus ride from Toronto to New York, beginning promptly at 12 pm and ending around 11 pm. Turns out that accurate scheduling is not one of Megabus' strengths. We left on time, but arrived 1.5 hours late. Probably something to do with abnormally long wait times at the border, extremely blustery weather conditions, and stopping to confirm that we left someone behind at a rest stop. That's right, our bus driver forgot a passenger. Which is weird considering that he had enough cognitive capacity to perform an entire comedic routine based on the required explanation of the bus' safety features. I'll admit, it was somewhat entertaining the first time I heard it (oh Mr. Windshield, you're a tricky fellow), but was far less so by the fourth time. To be fair, I was impressed by his ability to consistently deliver his punchlines with the exact same intonation and comedic timing. I found myself wondering if his entire life was similarly automated, like a pudgy white robot (Good morning wife, have you heard about Mr. Windshield?). And if so, why would its creator spend so much effort on a robot whose sole purpose is to inform passengers of safety features in a droll and repetitive manner? What a waste of a perfectly good robot.
What of the bus itself? The passengers? Thanks for asking. The bus is quite comfortable for anyone shorter that 5'10". Which is not me. The seats recline approximately 15 degrees, which allows me to achieve a body position similar to a crudely drawn comma. The roof however is entirely made of glass, which is pretty cool. There is supposedly wifi, but it takes me 15 minutes to access Facebook. I give up quickly. Also, there is a toilet on the lower level of the bus, near the rear. Being a man of the world, it seems like a great idea to give it a shot, especially early in the trip before it became less "fresh." Have you ever tried to water a garden in a strong wind? That's what peeing in a moving bus is like. You have to compensate for the forward inertia of the bus, but it's not consistent, the road is not smooth and there's no window, so you can't even anticipate turbulence before it occurs. The only technique is to pray and spray. In the face of such obstacles, I'm proud to admit that I'm quite the marksman. Even so, if I were a bus manufacturer I would make windows mandatory in all lavatories.
The passengers were an interesting mix. Most of them were young, attractive, female students. Actually, to be honest, I was only focusing on those passengers. I came to realize that it is quite an awkward thing to approach a stranger on a bus when you are not sitting directly beside them. This difficulty is compounded when you have already chosen your seat and there are plenty of other seats available (Is this seat taken? I feel much more comfortable sitting beside attractive females). Rest stops seem like better opportunities to approach others. I try it a couple of times. Not so effective at border crossings, due to constant interruptions (do you really have to ask for my passport now? I'm kinda in the middle of something). Also, after several numbing hours on a moving vehicle, my IQ probably dropped at least one standard deviation, resulting in such brilliant conversation starters as "This is gonna be the best whopper ever!" Surprisingly, this did not work well. Sometimes it's easier to just read a book.
December 29th 2011: Super Tourists!
The next day dawns bright and early, well earlier than I expected given the 2 am curfew the night before. Such is life with my mom, a human cyclone of a woman, who consistently walks more in one weekend than I do in two weeks. It's time to see the city! I can almost see her impatience, shimmering in the air around her, as I stumble to gain consciousness and look presentable. We take the train from White Plains to Grand Central and the subway from there. On the way we make a plan. Today we're going to see the World Trade Central memorial, walk the High Line, visit a museum, and perhaps catch a Broadway show. A worthy challenge!
First we head to the WTC and quickly realize that our schedule cannot be maintained. We arrive at 11 am, but the line up is around the block. They tell us to come back at 3 pm. What to do? How about a brisk walk down to battery park instead of a museum?
Look there's city hall, and a fountain in front of it! And there's a park that's being Occupied. Note the authentic protesters.
This is pretty interesting, a red sculpture of the roots of a tree that was upended during the 9/11 attacks. Apparently the tree survived. Also, the globe sculpture was originally in front of the twin towers but was moved to battery park as a memorial. You can see where it has been damaged. The other two artworks are from the 9/11 memorial shop. Actually, a lot of lower Manhattan has some sort of 9/11 legacy, either through commemorative plaques or faint scars in the buildings themselves.
After obtaining our ticket (for 5 pm) we decide to check out the High Line, which is an abandoned elevated railway that's been converted to an elevated garden/art exhibit/cool place for a jog. Note how close many of the condos are to the path itself. So close in fact, that you could, without any strain, have a conversation with the tenants as they lounged on their patio. Hopefully they'll invest in appropriate curtains. And soundproofing.
We return to the WTC site as darkness falls. There is a ton of security. We pass through four separate checkpoints where we are required to show our ticket. I think to myself, not sure how one would manage getting through the first 3 checkpoints without a ticket. There are security cameras every 5 feet and an airport-style scanner to navigate. I have to remove my belt and my sense of sarcasm.
It's totally worth it. The images below are stunning but don't quite capture the gravity of the memorial itself. There's just a void. In the middle of one of the most densely crowded metropolises in the world, there are two huge and gaping squares; a sense of emptiness further compounded by the nothingness of the inner sanctum. For all of its lit elegance, and understated execution, the eye is continually drawn to the center. To the open wound that can never be filled.
Another nice touch. There are touchscreens around the memorial that allow you to find the location of any of the names of the victims of the 9/11 attacks, on the borders of the two fountains. Here is a Canadian.
Onto Times Square and Broadway shows! For those of you who have not been to Times Square during the holiday season, the first thing that hits you is the press of the crowd, like some massive beast wending itself through a forest of lights. Not only are the crowds huge, but they move incredibly slowly. Everyone needs a picture of Times Square. No one really knows where they're going. It's a madhouse, but fun in a kaleidoscope kind of way. Sounds seem to come from all directions at once. Colors blur together, and also seem more distinct, depending on the angle that you choose to look up at the billboards. Your sense of humanity is oddly heightened and diminished as you realize that only your species could conceive and build on such an epic scale, and yet for all that ingenuity, you are just one tile amongst a massive mosaic.
We choose the show Chinglish, mostly because its 50% off. We have to run to get there because we buy the tickets 10 minutes before the show begins. Its about all the ways that White and Chinese people can screw up translations. It is hilarious. I am also starving, so we are forced to buy concessions.
...so publish-worthy. You can seriously get paid to travel the world and it's not just because I'm your Mom (anonymity squelched).
ReplyDeleteSign me up for that job anytime!
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