Summer in the City

July is not the time to be in New York City. It is hot, humid, and dirty. In my photo captions, I have written that it is “a sphincter of America” next to a few pictures. Not sure if it was overheard or original thought, however. And honestly, at 35 degrees it might have felt like it. But summer or not, I was there. And what better thing to do in NYC than to explore and discover the perfectly rectangular grid of Manhattan, and get lost in the city that never sleeps

Summer seems to be the construction season in NY. At every corner and in every avenue I've strolled through, there were a crowd of workers, mostly Mexican, tearing the insides of sky-scrapers. Up until now, my assumption was that maintenance in NYC simply never happens and that the buildings stay upright simply by pure power of will (and judging by the state of its subway and hotels I have been to, it was not an unreasonable assumption to make). But it turns out they stay upright through the blood sweat and tears of hard-hat wearing, spanish-swearing immigrants. And it is nothing short of awe-inspiring to see the insides of one of the concrete-steel-and-glass behemoths torn to only bare metal and concrete armature. These might be the only rat-resistant elements in NYC now when I think about it.

Then, there are New Yorkers. A special breed of though mother fuckers with an almost impossible grit and an absurd sense of humour. Their take on the summer could only be described as embracing the heat head-on. Whether it is Jerry, a perpetually annoyed bathed-in-sweat server in legendary Katz. A homeless man sunbathing on a road decoration as “he ain't got no money for them Caribbean”. Or Ash, a chain-smoking coffee-addicted madman running a 7min/mile in the middle of the busy streets at 30+degrees (who also just happens to be one of the best photographers in the world and my personal hero). Each one of them has a story and an attitude that demands respect. They are so beyond "normal" people. Of all the things I’ve expected to enjoy, the casual S&M relationship with New Yorkers was not high on my list, and yet it was one of the more enjoyable things this visit. Each "fuck you and your camera" was, in a way, charming. 

To be honest, before this visit and actually meeting some of the people, I never understood why people flocked to NYC. Why it was a city where dreams are made, and why seemingly every artist wants to escape there. But I think I started to get it. There is something addictive to the energy and people there. Having said that, I am not moving to the rat-infested dumpster anytime soon. But the thought of coming back does put a smile on my face, and I guess that's a new one.

As long as I come back on someone else’s budget.

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Proud to have been born in Europe

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Hillingdon: day two