Lugano, 25 August 2003
It’s been a hot summer in Lugano this year, with temperatures averaging above 30° C from May to August. We sought refuge from the relentless, oppressive heat by getting high up into the mountains for some cooler, fresher air, or by renting a powerboat and swimming in the bay of lake Lugano. We spent most of the summer eating chilled soup, pasta salads and raw foods, and drinking iced beer with fresh limes or chilling jugs of water containing whole lemons and springs of fresh mint, to cool our overheated bodies. True to Mediterranean style, we hid behind the shadow of the wooden blinds, kept rigorously shut as a barrier to the heat, while the plants on the terrace, which needed constant attention, withered easily if left unwatered for more than a few hours. Even the posters that, held up with blue-tack, have started falling to the ground.
At last, Nick and I flew to Manhattan for a week and enjoyed ourselves walking all around the island. The city is remarkable in that, to the irritation of the other pedestrians, you find yourself constantly looking skyward to examine the beautifully decorated facades of the buildings. The architecture was the most enjoyable surprise that the city unveiled during my visit. But there were other things such as the fact that in the end, New York is just another big city and as easy to negotiate as any. Anyhow, we were well equipped. After dealing with the insanity of Neapolitan motorists, the traffic in Manhattan seemed to us subdued, whilst the inhabitants, surprisingly cordial when compared to the European aloofness we’re used to. Of course we were in an excellent location, which made it all too easy. However, the Trendy Hotel was a huge disappointment. I would never book them again and struggle to comprehend what all the fuss is about. Out in the restaurants, the food was always good and consistent with the price range; we tried a couple of Zagat-recommended places namely Zarelas and Zen Palate, but for the rest we stuck to cheap eats. Fortunately, we found an excellent diner next door, which not only was the only place in town that served a decent cappuccino, but also provided huge, delicious value-for-money breakfasts that kept us sated until dusk; then we’d go for a burger or a soup or a salad. We also blew a bit of cash on cocktails in the popular W bar where people book private tables.
As you can imagine, the blackout ensured ours was an unforgettable experience! On Thursday, an hour before the power went out, Nick and I were standing in the queue at the Empire State Building waiting to get tickets to the viewing platform. But ten minutes of waiting in line later, Nick lost his patience and insisted we leave. He decided that if we came back early in the morning or late at night, we wouldn’t have to queue as long. That’s how we ended up at the cocktail bar in Bryant Park instead of getting stuck in the elevators of the Empire State Building! As we ordered our Coronas we overheard the bartenders saying that they had no power. We thought it was an isolated incident and enjoyed our drinks. Even as we walked back to the hotel we didn’t think anything was wrong. Those hordes of people flooding the streets of Manhattan were normal at rush hour, right? But no, wait a minute… it was only four thirty in the afternoon! Then we saw the traffic jam and the people, as far as the eye could see all the way down 5th and 42nd streets pouring out of the buildings like lemmings. All the traffic lights were out, still, the grid-locket car horns remained silent. Then we got it. It was so strange, the silence, and the constant rumbling of city’s air conditioners and the subway’s air ducts coming to a halt. People were patiently lining up behind every public phone available while the cell phones were out of action.
Back at our Trendy Hotel nothing seemed any different, as usual, the sombre lobby and cocktail bars were lit with candles. The kitchen staff brought out any the perishable food, neatly arranged on platters, which were offered to guests and stranded commuters who’d sought refuge in the lobby. Unlike other hotels such as the Waldorf Astoria next door and many others who (they said it was for safety reasons?) even refused entrance to their own patrons, the Hotel was admirable in that it allowed people into the lobby and, instead of letting the food go to waste, brought it out for free and then in the morning did the same with coffee, tea, o.j. and water (remarkable for a hotel who charges USD 10.- for boutique water from Scandinavia!) Our room was on the 16th floor, which we were able to access by the one elevator that was still running, but to descend, we were required to use the fire escape. Nick went to get candles, water and take away from the shop around the corner. By the time he got back at 6:30 pm the hall was full and the hotel was refusing entry to anyone but its guests.
My poor sister Diane, who works in 5th Avenue, was unable to commute home and ended up sleeping on a row of chairs in Bryant Park. If only she’d made her way to our hotel! In any case we had no running water because in N.Y., water above the 6th floor is pumped electrically, but at least, she could have slept somewhere more comfortable. I tried sms-ing her on my mobile phone, but the entire system was overloaded. In fact, the phone lines in the hotel were out until 9:00 pm the following day. As night fell, Nick and I were fascinated by the full moon rising above the power-less city; we realized this must be one of the rare occasions when it was possible to admire the stars shining above Manhattan. We kept craning our necks out the open window to stare at the darkened towers of the General Electric Building right across the street.
On Friday morning, the maid delivered the USA Today paper to our room and we finally realized the extent of the damage. The entire eastern seaboard had blacked out, fifty million people were affected by the worst power failure in history! As the entire city shut down and services out of order, we had no running water and so opted for a day in Central Park. After a sponge bath and a rinse with EVIAN, on the way to the park we stopped to get more bottled water, muffins and fruit from a Vietnamese grocer whose business was going so well by selling supplies, that he was able to give me change for a 50-dollar bill. If I hadn’t been sick and suffering from an acute and paralysing migraine (a combination of the soft-as-a-cloud hotel bed and Espresso withdrawals), the whole experience of the blackout might have been fun. Instead, I’d taken 4 extra strength migraine tablets the only effect of which was to make me nauseous and dizzy on top of the agonizing pain I felt in my brain. It was very hot and I could barely stand or keep my eyes open, so we just sat in the park, under the shade of a tree, for most of the afternoon. For lunch, we ate a kosher hot dog from one of the street vendors and slowly walked around Bethesda fountain and sheep’s meadow. There wasn’t much else to do in town that day anyhow. We tried taking a free bus ride down to the Circle Line ferry, but even that was useless because the computers were down and they were unable to issue tickets manually.
Luckily we’d decided to spend a whole week in New York as the city didn’t quite get its act together for a few days post-blackout. Thus we were forced to condense our sightseeing. In fact, many of the museums and sights were still closed to the public by Monday and Tuesday. But on Saturday, 5th Avenue was back in full swing so we decided to check out the American Craft Museum (one of my favourite museum experiences, topped only by the Museum of L’Art Brut in Lausanne) and do some shopping. At H&M the Visa card centre was still wobbly and the sales assistant couldn’t get through, so we had to put our purchases on hold until Monday. We walked up Park Avenue and stopped for lunch at Zabar’s E.A.T., one of my best food experiences in N.Y. Oh, their breads and the salads!!! As we enjoyed a game of spot-the-rich-old-farts from our table beside the window, the kitchen hands were busily unloading a Zabar’s delivery van that was steeped with crates of fresh produce. We watched bags of brown onions, boxes of potatoes, capsicum, tomatoes, broccoli, asparagus and berries, slide down the shoot and disappear into the black bowels of the restaurant. Supposedly, they discarded much of their food during the blackout and were now re-stocking the pantry. I remember being impressed by the size of the enormous vegetables. Everything there tasted delicious. Afterwards, we walked to the Guggenheim museum, which hadn’t reopened yet, so we visited the Whitney instead. There, to our surprise there was a show entitled: The American Effect — Global perspectives on the United States, 1990-2003, which must have challenged many of the predominantly young American viewers, and enlightened them on what the world thinks of their nation’s policies.
All in all N.Y.’s been a wonderful experience, but an extremely tyring one. You can have absolutely anything your heart desires in this city, except for one crucial thing: fresh air! It’s good to be home and to be able to sleep on a good mattress and to forgo restaurant food for a while (less fat and sugar, more fibre and vitamins). I used to joke with Diane, saying that Nick and I are the country mice that have come to the big city. She’d make fun of me because I so detest the American’s exaggerated concept of customer service, like the concierge who chirps: “Have a wonderful Trendy Hotel experience!” — after you called the front desk four times because your WC is broken and it won’t stop flushing… Or the waitress who promptly re-fills your glass of water each time you take a sip!
I’m also enjoying the fresh, clean mountain air but Nick and I get a kick now, whenever we see Manhattan on TV, we wink at each other knowingly “Remember when we were there?”
help?
