Day 1 in America, stuffed full of brisket beef and slopped with sun screen that I’d rushed out to get from the “drug store” in Crown Heights.
So, where do you start with New York ?
Yes, Wall Street, of course.
Only 3 stops on what we came to know and love as the “A” from our Nostrand base, but we jumped off just before Brooklyn Bridge to walk across it, as you must.
We’d seen the majestic London skyline on the train crossing Blackfriars Bridge, but nothing prepares you for the scale of Manhattan. Not even brisket.
It’s not all scale over beauty though.
Wall Street doesn’t get the tourists it deserves, I think. Not only is there history and philosophy (top),
there’s also chicken biryani.
Matt was taken with the multiple biryani vans dotted around the financial district (almost as many as Starbucks), but we had to wait for that culinary treat. Temperatures were hitting the 30s and my ambition to walk the length of Manhattan on Day 1 was sadly outvoted 3-1.
Instead, back at the Brooklyn Hotel, I was dispatched to get fruit, which I genuinely didn’t think was a thing in America.
So I’d earnt my first beer, 5 minutes down Nostrand Avenue at what they call a “Pub“.
They don’t do “pubs”, do they ? There’s plenty of places like this in Ilford and Chorlton, but we call them bars. Don’t @ me, as Matt says.
Actually, this could be a lot of pubs in Hackney, with all those funny pumps sticking upwards brandishing their funny names.
The barperson seemed pleased to see me. That’s rarer than you’d hope in the UK. I’m still not sure if Americans are really as friendly and cheerful as they seem or whether it’s just good training at Tip School. I hope it’s the former.
“Hi ! You’re just in time for Happy Hour !!!”
I quickly perused the beer list, as if I cared.
“I’ll have an Alewife please” Yes, I just picked the first one.
“We don’t have that one, but I DO recommend the War Flag America Pilsner. Would you like a taster ?” Grief, just like being in a Wetherspoons in Worthing.
Shamefully, I had a taster. It was pretty good, but then it was cool beer and it was 30 degrees. Even in Happy Hour a 16oz glass cost a fiver. Actually, that’s not BAD, is it ?
I had a whole table to myself. My feet touched the floor. The music was decent. But without Mrs RM I was a bit bored, so I called it a night at one and rushed back with another can of what was fast turning into the beer of the trip. She was pleased.