As I waited for my Dublin bound plane at JFK airport I decided to entertain myself by going to the terminal’s Irish bar. How appropriate, an Irish pub in the terminal that connects New York to Ireland. In fact, most of the people at the bar were actually on the Dublin flight.
My flight to Dublin was smooth, but then my flight to London was delayed. It was somewhat concerning when, whilst taxiing to the runway, they said that one of the engines wasn’t working and that we had to head back to the terminal. But I eventually landed in London safely.
From Heathrow I quickly reminded myself of UK public transport and made my way to South London to meet my Aussie friends Amanda and J, who I’d be staying with. No time to rest though, we were off to the West End for dinner and a show. A good first night in London.
The next day, Saturday, was the last day Londoners could legally drink on city transport. Most civilized countries around the world have long disallowed drinking on public transport but the new London mayor had just decided to bring that in; much to the disgust of young Londoners. Said Londoners decided to organise a massive party on the underground ‘circle’ line to protest, so I decided to join in and make history – I attended London’s biggest and last tube party. It was a big hot sweaty drunken mess, where stations were eventually evacuated and supposedly police assaulted, but it was good fun, the British way. I felt pleased to be back in London – where there’s always something to do.
The rest of my first week was spent recovering from backpacking, catching up with friends and getting ready for working life (like buying work clothes and attending job interviews).
I have spent some down time just chilling out watching TV. There are quite a few Australian shows on Sky TV here, including:
- Neigbours (a British favourite)
- Home & Away
- Water Rats
- Secret Life of Us
- Border Security (except they call it "Nothing to Delcare")
and, soon to air
- Summer Heights High
Of course TV isn't the only thing that has lots of Australians. There are a lot of Australians in London generally. My friend from back in Melbourne, M, took me to a regular Wednesday night gathering to eat pizza at a great pub in Islington. Apparently various combinations of friends and friends of friends attend that night from week to week, but when I was there, out of about 8 people, there was only one non-Melburnian! (who was in fact Czech so I had something in common with him too)
The weather here is reasonably warm (no New York heat though yet), the beers and ciders are cheap and plentiful (and, yes, they are cold) and I’ve had a great time with my mates introducing me to all their favourite hangouts.
Where in the World is DK?
06 June 2008
04 June 2008
New York City /Leaving America
My last day in Atlantic City was so nice and sunny I didn't leave until late – I was enjoying sitting in the sun on the beach too much. But eventually I made my way to the bus terminal. I inquired about a Greyhound ticket to New York City but apparently all the buses were running off schedule. I got a ticket from another bus company and was soon on my way. The trip was slow – it seems the traffic caused by everyone going home from the Memorial Day long weekend caused congestion. The coach was packed too, some people didn't even have seats! Not pleasant for a long distance bus ride.
I arrived in New York City after 9pm and after I figured out the right subway to my East Village “hotel”, got lost in the Lower East Side and eventually found my “hotel” it was quite late, and I was tired, hot and exhausted.
The “hotel” clerk gave me my key and asked me to go up stairs with my baggage, and leave it up there and come pay - if I like it. I thought this was a very unorthodox check-in process but went with it. I soon realised why.
I climbed up the dingy stairway, opened the locked solid heavy door and came into what seemed like a large hot room with lots of old wooden garden shed doors. Each door was to an individual room, but the individual rooms were all one one large hall separated by thin wooden walls that didn't go up all the way to the ceiling. Instead they had lattice ceilings about a foot from the ceiling of the real door. Each room was more like a small cell, with just enough room for a very small single bed and some space right next to it to dump your back pack. The shared showers (2 for the whole floor) were just additional garden-shed-doored subcells, and the toilets were practically out in the open. Anyone booking this place expecting a real “hotel” would have run for the hills. But I knew I was expecting more of a hostel type accommodation of a different kind, thanks to a recommendation from Brenna, a Melburnian I had met in Niagara Falls. She would be staying there at the same time, had stayed there before, and had assured me that the experience was quite good.
She had based this on the location of the neighbourhood. And she was right. The East Village was a cool part of Manhattan, with small, dark atmospheric bars, nice diners and boutique shops.
I spent most of the evenings enjoying the local nightlife with Brenna and her Austrian friend, or shopping in Times Square, a short subway ride away. The nights in the “hotel” weren't super comfortable. You could hear every time someone in the next three rooms turned over, and could hear people peeing in the toilets on the other side of the “hotel”. But overall for $28 a night in the middle of Manhattan it wasn't too bad, when you think about the fact that it is still a step up from a hostel dorm room.
I later found out that I had a super deluxe room due to the fact that the space next to my bed was almost the same size as the bed (the others' had smaller rooms), I had a TV (it didn't work properly) and I had sexy satin sheets.
I'd been to New York before a few years ago and had done the sights, so most of my days this time were spent just hanging around Manhattan. Walking the streets, checking out the buildings, the streets below them, and the busy people walking down those.
It was a great few days to spend outdoors, as it was sunny, hot and humid. On my second last day in New York, Brenna, Claudia and I caught the subway to Coney Island in Brooklyn to hang out on the beach. On my day of departure I checked out of the “hotel,” had breakfast in a typical New York diner, and stopped off at a barber shop. I was flying to London, where everything is expensive, so it was my last chance to get a cheap haircut. I walked all the way up Broadway to Central Park in the sunshine, lay in the park and took in my final few North American rays. Then it was time to head to JFK airport to fly across the Atlantic to Dublin, and then on to London.
It was the end of my two months of backpacking around North America. I'd started Canada in one of the biggest attractions: world class skiing in Whistler. I went coast to coast on the ground and finished at the world's most amazing attraction, Niagara Falls. I'd been to half a dozen Canadian provinces and half a dozen American States. I'd eaten poutine in Montreal, buffalo wings in Buffalo and Philly cheese steaks in Philadelphia. But most importantly I'd met lots of fantastic people along the way, and feel satisfied that I made the most of having two months to spare.
The carefree backpacking lifestyle had come to an end, but I left with confidence that London – and neighbouring continental Europe – would bring further adventures.
I arrived in New York City after 9pm and after I figured out the right subway to my East Village “hotel”, got lost in the Lower East Side and eventually found my “hotel” it was quite late, and I was tired, hot and exhausted.
The “hotel” clerk gave me my key and asked me to go up stairs with my baggage, and leave it up there and come pay - if I like it. I thought this was a very unorthodox check-in process but went with it. I soon realised why.
I climbed up the dingy stairway, opened the locked solid heavy door and came into what seemed like a large hot room with lots of old wooden garden shed doors. Each door was to an individual room, but the individual rooms were all one one large hall separated by thin wooden walls that didn't go up all the way to the ceiling. Instead they had lattice ceilings about a foot from the ceiling of the real door. Each room was more like a small cell, with just enough room for a very small single bed and some space right next to it to dump your back pack. The shared showers (2 for the whole floor) were just additional garden-shed-doored subcells, and the toilets were practically out in the open. Anyone booking this place expecting a real “hotel” would have run for the hills. But I knew I was expecting more of a hostel type accommodation of a different kind, thanks to a recommendation from Brenna, a Melburnian I had met in Niagara Falls. She would be staying there at the same time, had stayed there before, and had assured me that the experience was quite good.
She had based this on the location of the neighbourhood. And she was right. The East Village was a cool part of Manhattan, with small, dark atmospheric bars, nice diners and boutique shops.
I spent most of the evenings enjoying the local nightlife with Brenna and her Austrian friend, or shopping in Times Square, a short subway ride away. The nights in the “hotel” weren't super comfortable. You could hear every time someone in the next three rooms turned over, and could hear people peeing in the toilets on the other side of the “hotel”. But overall for $28 a night in the middle of Manhattan it wasn't too bad, when you think about the fact that it is still a step up from a hostel dorm room.
I later found out that I had a super deluxe room due to the fact that the space next to my bed was almost the same size as the bed (the others' had smaller rooms), I had a TV (it didn't work properly) and I had sexy satin sheets.
I'd been to New York before a few years ago and had done the sights, so most of my days this time were spent just hanging around Manhattan. Walking the streets, checking out the buildings, the streets below them, and the busy people walking down those.
It was a great few days to spend outdoors, as it was sunny, hot and humid. On my second last day in New York, Brenna, Claudia and I caught the subway to Coney Island in Brooklyn to hang out on the beach. On my day of departure I checked out of the “hotel,” had breakfast in a typical New York diner, and stopped off at a barber shop. I was flying to London, where everything is expensive, so it was my last chance to get a cheap haircut. I walked all the way up Broadway to Central Park in the sunshine, lay in the park and took in my final few North American rays. Then it was time to head to JFK airport to fly across the Atlantic to Dublin, and then on to London.
It was the end of my two months of backpacking around North America. I'd started Canada in one of the biggest attractions: world class skiing in Whistler. I went coast to coast on the ground and finished at the world's most amazing attraction, Niagara Falls. I'd been to half a dozen Canadian provinces and half a dozen American States. I'd eaten poutine in Montreal, buffalo wings in Buffalo and Philly cheese steaks in Philadelphia. But most importantly I'd met lots of fantastic people along the way, and feel satisfied that I made the most of having two months to spare.
The carefree backpacking lifestyle had come to an end, but I left with confidence that London – and neighbouring continental Europe – would bring further adventures.
02 June 2008
Atlantic City
For those who haven't heard of it, Atlantic City is like the Las Vegas of the East coast. Except nicer.
I arrived by train and walked straight down to the boardwalk and along the beach. The boardwalk is lined with casinos, touristy shops, restaurants and bars. Much like the Strip in Las Vegas but with a nice beach on one side and much cleaner. Atlantic City has a more family atmosphere, with plenty of people out with their families on a long weekend. It was a coincidence, but I got here on the Friday afternoon just in time for the Memorial Day long weekend, so it was a busy time for Atlantic City, a city that would but for the tourism be a very small place.
During this trip I had adopted an “anti hotel policy.” I find hotels pretty boring, and prefer to stay at hostels and similar accommodation where I can meet plenty of people. But Atlantic City is a place for local tourism, and there aren't any hostels. But I did manage to find some interesting accommodation. Google told me about an Irish pub with cheap upstairs rooms, and cheap food and drink at the bar. The internet reviews said the bar was a great friendly place, but the hotel wasn't much.
So when I arrived, I was expecting a dump, but was pleasantly surprised. It was an old quaint hotel, full of antiques and Irish themed pictures on the wall. I was impressed with my single room. Not having a TV, air conditioning or an ensuite is no big deal after living in dorm rooms for almost 2 months. The beauty of it was that it was as cheap as a hostel too.
I hung out a bit in the bar, and met a variety of tourists and locals. The locals all told me that this was the best place in all of Atlantic City. $1.75 draft beers and $5 meals (served 24 hours a day) kept me coming back to the pub a number of time through the long weekend.
I played some poker tournaments at the Hilton Casino and checked out various other casino bars, getting drinks for free along the way. As in Vegas, they comp you free drinks, from coffee to cocktails, as long as you are sitting at a poker table or even playing a slot machine. Some locals put me onto a particular bar called Dizzy Dolphin, at which they have video poker machines built into the bar, and as long as you have some credits in the machine while you sit at the bar, you get comped drinks. I stumbled in there at 2am on one night, and after 3 long island iced teas and meeting one of the actors from the Sopranos, somehow managed to get home to the other end of the boardwalk... (mainly thanks to an all night bus service called the Jitney)
But Atlantic City wasn't all drinking and gambling. The shopping was really good too. One of the piers has a massive shopping centre on it, at which I went on a bit of a shopping spree in the Quicksilver shop. In America, you only pay about $20 for a brand name T-shirt, and this shop had half of its stuff discounted 50% off, and New Jersey doesn't charge tax for clothes. I followed that up by shopping at the outlets. Now I fear I'm going to have to buy an extra bag to fit everything in.
The weather was mainly nice ans sunny for the long weekend, so I even spent some time hanging out at the beach. But there was a breeze, and supposedly the water was really cold, so I didn't hang there long. There were crowds on the beach, but for me the beach wasn't as big a deal. As nice as it was, it was still nowhere near as nice as the beaches we get in Melbourne, let alone the rest of Australia. Though it was good to be out in the sun on the sand, before heading to the Big Apple.
I arrived by train and walked straight down to the boardwalk and along the beach. The boardwalk is lined with casinos, touristy shops, restaurants and bars. Much like the Strip in Las Vegas but with a nice beach on one side and much cleaner. Atlantic City has a more family atmosphere, with plenty of people out with their families on a long weekend. It was a coincidence, but I got here on the Friday afternoon just in time for the Memorial Day long weekend, so it was a busy time for Atlantic City, a city that would but for the tourism be a very small place.
During this trip I had adopted an “anti hotel policy.” I find hotels pretty boring, and prefer to stay at hostels and similar accommodation where I can meet plenty of people. But Atlantic City is a place for local tourism, and there aren't any hostels. But I did manage to find some interesting accommodation. Google told me about an Irish pub with cheap upstairs rooms, and cheap food and drink at the bar. The internet reviews said the bar was a great friendly place, but the hotel wasn't much.
So when I arrived, I was expecting a dump, but was pleasantly surprised. It was an old quaint hotel, full of antiques and Irish themed pictures on the wall. I was impressed with my single room. Not having a TV, air conditioning or an ensuite is no big deal after living in dorm rooms for almost 2 months. The beauty of it was that it was as cheap as a hostel too.
I hung out a bit in the bar, and met a variety of tourists and locals. The locals all told me that this was the best place in all of Atlantic City. $1.75 draft beers and $5 meals (served 24 hours a day) kept me coming back to the pub a number of time through the long weekend.
I played some poker tournaments at the Hilton Casino and checked out various other casino bars, getting drinks for free along the way. As in Vegas, they comp you free drinks, from coffee to cocktails, as long as you are sitting at a poker table or even playing a slot machine. Some locals put me onto a particular bar called Dizzy Dolphin, at which they have video poker machines built into the bar, and as long as you have some credits in the machine while you sit at the bar, you get comped drinks. I stumbled in there at 2am on one night, and after 3 long island iced teas and meeting one of the actors from the Sopranos, somehow managed to get home to the other end of the boardwalk... (mainly thanks to an all night bus service called the Jitney)
But Atlantic City wasn't all drinking and gambling. The shopping was really good too. One of the piers has a massive shopping centre on it, at which I went on a bit of a shopping spree in the Quicksilver shop. In America, you only pay about $20 for a brand name T-shirt, and this shop had half of its stuff discounted 50% off, and New Jersey doesn't charge tax for clothes. I followed that up by shopping at the outlets. Now I fear I'm going to have to buy an extra bag to fit everything in.
The weather was mainly nice ans sunny for the long weekend, so I even spent some time hanging out at the beach. But there was a breeze, and supposedly the water was really cold, so I didn't hang there long. There were crowds on the beach, but for me the beach wasn't as big a deal. As nice as it was, it was still nowhere near as nice as the beaches we get in Melbourne, let alone the rest of Australia. Though it was good to be out in the sun on the sand, before heading to the Big Apple.
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