Shyzerblog

Ravyn’s favourite parts of NYC

In the last few days of the run Sarah and I managed to hit a couple of places in NYC that I’d never been to: the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building.

We made it to the latter shortly after sunset, in between our last show and the festival’s closing party. The view was stunning but sad. From that high up it really strikes you that Manhattan is an island, and not a very big one at that. The Brooklyn bridge stretches out on the left and the Statue of Liberty is a pinprick that seems only a stone’s throw away on the right. All around you’re surrounded by buildings; to the north are a few distinct ones, and you can see a hint of Time’s Square, but aside from that it’s just a mass of short blocky buildings piled around narrow streets at right angles, stacked up on top of each other with the same orange light peeking out of millions of square windows; like a dimly phosphorescent cubic coral reef.

Urban alienation and melancholy aside, I really just wanted to share these panoramas. The first one is from Sunset Park in Brooklyn, near where we were staying (see if you can spot the Statue of Liberty!). The second is of the Manhattan skyline, taken from Liberty Island.

I’m going to post a more comprehensive summary of the whole FRIGID festival experience in the next week or so. So far, suffice to say that our houses improved, but not by much, we had a lot of fun at the late night events, met some really cool people, and nabbed an Audience Choice Award.

But I’m still glad to be home.

The nice thing about traveling with a laptop is that you can take a break, sit down somewhere with wifi (which surprisingly turns out to be most parks in New York) google “best Chinese food in Manhattan”, and you’re off. No advanced planning required, which is good, because I’m bad at that.

So tonight after a long day of shopping  (something else I’m not good at, or at least usually reluctant to do, but I made out well today: a book for the bus ride home, a great pair of jeans and some other clothes) I headed down to Joe’s Shanghai restaurant in Chinatown, which was just a short walk from my hostel, which most good things have turned out to be so far.

Joe’s Shanghai is the sort of place where all the tables seat 10 and everyone is thrown  in the mix with a bunch of strangers next to them (this is actually a pretty good arrangement when dining alone, if only a little awkward). The dining room has no decoration to speak of, with the exception of two strips of pink and green neon lights running along the ceiling like crown moulding and framed food reviews and accolades on the walls.

The server recommended soup dumplings to start which several of the reviews had suggested were the restaurants not-to-be-missed specialty, and the empty dumpling steamers already on the table in front of other guests proved it. “They’re very good,” the young woman sitting next to me promised.

Holy crap, was she ever right. Ive had dumplings before, but never like this, and never so delicious. Plus there’s a method to eating the things properly, which I love: first you take the dumpling onto your spoon, then you nibble a hole in it, so that you can then suck the broth out of the dumpling first. Then you can either eat the dough first, or, if it’s safely cooled, you can stick the whole thing in your mouth. Oh god, I wish I was eating one right now.

The spicy chicken with sliced cucumber that came next was big enough for two, but I ate the whole thing, because it was that good – and I lack impulse control.

Following that I walked across the Brooklyn bridge and got some great night skyline shots of Manhattan. Tomorrow: Central Park, and my New York debut?

Another night of drinking last night. First at Pieces, a tragic little faux-but-not-really-faux-at-all dive bar that makes Crews and Tango look like the Royal York Hotel in terms of character and the class of its patrons, then to Phoenix to round off the evening. Brian left earlier than I did, as he class in the morning, and I finally made it back to his place around 5 am to find that my key wouldn’t open the door. For a while it seemed likely that I might have to sleep in the hall.

Checked into the hostel this afternoon, then wandered all over the L.E.S. and surrounding neighbourhoods. Bought new ukulele strings, which I’m excited about. Came back just in time to watch the group of topless Italian guys chat up the group of skanky British girls who had just checked in. I love hostels. I hate people who travel in flocks They squbble constantly; particularly the girls. And incidentally, what were they all thinking? Nobody’s getting any action in a room that sleeps 14. You’re supposed to try to get picked up by the locals.

Interesting fact: A New York City cab printing off a receipt makes the same sound as the killer black smoke on Lost

I’ve decided to make tonight an early night so I can have a fresh start to the week, so I’ve spent most of the evening researching stuff I want to do. I was dismayed to learn that the open mic I had been looking forward to attending no longer exists. (Keep your websites up to date, people!) But I think I’ve found a satisfactory replacement; I sure as hell don’t want to have lugged my costume all the way down here for nothing.

I wish I’d remembered to stop and pick up a pair of earplugs somewhere; in a room with 14 people someone’s bound to be a snorer.