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Wednesday, 21 March 2012

They are longing to stray...

Monday was a grand day. It was as though a switch had been pulled and all of the sudden, I felt as though I owned New York- and was as they say, ' a New Yorker.' Armed and ready, Sarah, Nicole and I headed to Chinatown to brave the crowds and get our souvenir gifts for the road. George decided to part ways and meet up with a friend and hit 5th avenue. 

Chinatown was an experience and a half- swarming with people, sales and the echoing of 'perfume, watches, bags'....'discount for you discount for you'.

Five t-shirts, one sweatshirt and a dozen key rings later, I felt as though I had handled myself well in Chinatown and had even haggled with the vendors to ensure a fair price was paid. Just like a real New Yorker. By the time I got back to the apartment, I had a real bounce in my step and I felt pretty damn cool. But there was no time to rest. At 3pm, I had to change my head space, put on my red lipstick and heels as we all had a date at the Crown Plaza for afternoon tea. This time, we hailed a cab straight away.

With a hiss and a roar, we made it to the Crown Plaza (on the edge of my beloved Central Park) and entered with a sense of entitlement. We were seated in a corner table and we all ordered the 'New Yorker' high tea, coupled with of course, a pot of tea. We sat there enjoying our high tea for a good couple of hours. Once again this was a nice opportunity for George, Sarah, Nicole and I to really chat and do the girly bonding thing.



Pretty lady





Bathroom shot!


Once we finished our high tea and took photos of the bathroom (just because we could) - we headed to the East Village to have a drink in the 'oldest bar in New York.' It turned out to be an excellent choice, despite the initial shock of turning up to a pub covered in straw (?!) where there were two choices of alcohol. Dark or light. Please imagine for just a moment, four girls in heels and dresses turning up to such a place and the look of mortification that must have been so apparent on my face. Four pints later though, I was away laughing and having the time of my life. For your reference, the bar was called McSorleys Old Ale House.

Naughty Knickers


Feeling brave, we decided to head to another recommended place which had me seriously intrigued. It was called Crif Hot Dogs. However, there was more to this place than just hot dogs. Word on the street was that there was a secret bar hidden in Crif Hot Dogs that could only be located by entering a telephone booth. The bar was called 'Please Don't Tell'- PDT for short. Well my curiosity was overwhelming and I could not wait to check out Crif Hot Dogs and find this mysterious bar.

When we got there, as instructed by my friend, I ordered the 'Jon Jon Darragon with Bacon' hot dog. Weary but eager to see what it would taste like, I took my first bite. Another magical food moment. It was amazing. I definitely endorse the Jon Jon Darragon whole heartedly. Thank you Amanda.
Now it was time for the tricky part. I tried to be stealth and enter the telephone booth. I dialled. I waited. All of the sudden, the wall disappeared and a man asked me what I wanted. I nervously explained how I was from New Zealand and that PDT's reputation had made it all the way over to our small country. He looked our group up and down and then we were ushered in.
Again I have no photos, (well maybe one) despite my best efforts. You'll just have to go there yourselves to see it. Funnily enough, a few days later, I was lucky enough to be taken to another 'secret bar' in New York and was told a bit about their history. Apparently these bars, known as speakeasies, were hidden during the prohibition period of the 1920s and 30s. Alcohol was banned during this period and a speakeasy was an establishment that continued to illegally sell alcohol. How cool is that? You learn something new every day in a city as rich as New York.

Jon Jon Darragon



Secret photo taking in PDT!
After our drink at PDT, we decided to be well behaved and call it a night. We stopped for frozen yoghurt on the way home which was the icing on the cake of another perfect day. It was a hard fact to face that we only had two more days to go before our New York adventure would be over.


George had only one more night to go (sob) and so we  all decided that her final day (and night) had better be special and one for the books. I'm not sure what George has to say on the matter, but the day that followed for me, was definitely one of the best. It was certainly more than I could have ever imagined and once again New York gave me a memory (or two) that I will keep forever. 
More on that soon.
Day five to come.

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