Sunday May 13th – Not having those freight-train snorers in the room with me meant that I slept like a baby, straight through the night and well into the morning. I must have needed it; I was zonked until nearly midday, and I woke, stretched and felt like a queen.
I took my time in the shower and dressed (in my own bathroom! Which I didn’t have to share with hundreds of other gross backpackers!), and then set off with a mission: to find the Forbidden Planet comic book store. I had stumbled across this Mecca of dorkdom on a previous trip to New York, and I had felt right at home. This time, I was on the lookout for a card game that Charlie had pointed out in a comic store in Philadelphia; something called ‘Munchkin’. Back story: on another trip, in another country, there were two guys I met called David and Darren. They were just lovely, and one sunny afternoon at a rooftop bar when they produced a dorky card game called ‘Citadels’, I knew we would be very, very good friends. After hours of competitive scheming and stealing of each other’s ‘gold’, they mentioned that they were always on the lookout for more fun and games. Well, when I saw Munchkin, I knew that it would be the perfect thing for those gents, but I didn’t want to have to carry it all the way to NYC from Philadelphia. However, now that I was IN NYC, and not going to have to move any time soon, I decided to find Forbidden Planet and pick up a copy to send to David and Darren in the UK. I remembered that the store was south of Union Square, somewhere along Broadway, so I figured that I’d start with Union Square and follow my nose from there. Besides, there were a couple of things I wanted to check out while I was there, anyway.
So, off I hopped, and when I came out of the subway I saw, much to my delight, that an unexpected street market had popped up on Broadway, and thus not only were there delicious smells to be explored at food stalls, but the whole place was closed to traffic. There were people lazing about on the steps in the sun, and some intense games of chess were going on too. First things first, I looked around Union Square to see if the Virgin Megastore was still open, and was not surprised to find it had disappeared; another sign of changing media times. So instead I plunged into the markets and paraded down Broadway, unhindered by cars and traffic lights. I put my blinkers on as I passed Max Brenner (“I will NOT be swayed by chocolate indulgence this morning!”), but did give in when a girl from a stall offered me a large cup of delicious kettle corn (which I believe the rest of the world just calls ‘buttery popcorn’!). Yum! Some of the food stalls looked really amazing; there was one stand called Fortunato, that advertised the “best cannoli, imported from Brooklyn”. I suppose there are some Manhattanites that see Brooklyn as altogether another country…!
I found an old shop that was the most amazing space – high ceilings, more like a theatre with a balcony around the top, old-school giant mirrors on the walls and tattered wallpaper; everything seemed to have gilded edges. The store itself wasn’t much cop – it was closing down and just had clothes dumped over tables everywhere – but I could really imagine someone getting hold of that space and doing something awesome with it (I will try to pretend that it isn’t just going to be turned into a Starbucks or something similar…!).
I finally fell upon Forbidden Planet, and handed over my bag to the guy at the entrance, as is the custom there. (Nerd thieves! Really!) I made a huge effort not to browse. Two storeys of nerdvana, filled with toys, comic books, t-shirts, games and the like… too much temptation for this girl on a budget. So I asked the security guy which way I should go for Munchkin, went straight upstairs, and made my purchase as soon as possible to avoid falling in love with some random geekcessory. The girl behind the counter was really helpful, telling me how to find two-player instructions for the game and other ways to approach it, but I could not be upsold into anything else and ran for the door as fast as my little legs would carry me, making sure my wallet stayed well and truly closed!
After exiting the store, I took a breath and admired my Munchkin box; I couldn’t wait to post it to David and Darren. Then, of course, I had no idea what to do with myself. The whole of New York at my feet and I was short on inspiration! Unbelieveable. I wandered for a bit, found the nearest subway, looked at a map, and decided that today would be as good a time as any to have a look at the cast-iron district. I pointlessly jumped on a subway to Prince Street (not far at all; it would have been just as fast to walk from where I was, really), and then mooched around SoHo (SOuth of HOuston Street) along Mercer, Greene and the surrounding streets.
I’ve always been a bit critical of SoHo, especially that area of it, because I just saw it as a pointless area filled with housebunnies with endless budgets and no brains shopping in designer stores, but I have to admit that giving it a closer look, it was a really nice area. Lots of beautiful old buildings with great views along the street straight downtown to the new World Trade Center tower; most of the buildings had old metal fittings and old-fashioned fire escapes (of the kind made famous by West Side Story!), which I suppose is the source of the moniker ‘cast-iron district’…? And it wasn’t just designer stores; there were independent boutiques, too, and some more mainstream chain stores. I guess if you’re into shopping, it really is a pretty great area to be. I personally just enjoyed walking around, people-watching and looking into strange shop windows. I stumbled across a piece of street art that had been on my to-do list; a subway map made of metal rods and inlaid into the tarmac on Greene Street, between Prince and Spring. Little lights embedded into the map represented stations, and I have to say that at, nearly 100 feet long (I think), it was pretty impressive. Mental note to self: come back at night to see the lights on!
I kept wandering, and visited the Top Shop on Broadway. When I was living in the UK I swore by Top Shop… their socks and underwear were particularly excellent, and it was an affordable way to get hold of nice, good-quality clothes. However, I think it’s lost something in translation with its expansion to the North American market; they’ve approached it more as a high-end designer label, with ‘London fashion’ as a major theme. Gone are the awesome wardrobe staples; gone are the socks and undies and funny little toys at the check-out; instead the items seem totally fashion-based and, for what it is, it’s quite overpriced. I went in hoping to top up on socks and maybe grab a new pair of jeans, but there were no socks and the selection of jeans was pitiable; it was all about animal prints and other wear-them-once-and-lose-them-at-the-back-of-your-wardrobe couture items. Sigh. Well, I’m sure someone will enjoy it… but that someone will just not be me.
I turned back around and realised that my stomach was complaining quite loudly. It was time to eat. So I made straight for 240 Sullivan Street, NoHo, to knock a culinary must-do off my list: Peanut Butter & Co. If you love peanut butter, you have just entered heaven. I read an article about this place a while back and was fascinated: really? A whole cafe just for peanut butter lovers? But I tell you what – it was DELICIOUS. I mean, we all love a fancy meal in a swish restaurant but sometimes you just want your basics, and this place does it in spectacular fashion. The whole menu is based on peanut butter sandwiches, snacks, cookies and shakes; you’ve got everything from your standard PB&J to your ‘fluffernutter’ (peanut butter and marshmallow fluff spread), but I was here for the Big Daddy of all peanut butter sarnies: The Elvis. Oh yes. Peanut butter (smooth or crunchy, your pick), banana, honey and bacon, grilled to perfection, and served with a handful of carrot sticks and a small packet of crisps. I could almost feel my veins clogging with every bite I took, but DAMN it was good. I ate it down to the very last bite, greedily licked my fingers afterwards, and issued a happy sigh. Afterwards, I perused their collection of take-home goods; they really have an amazing range of peanut butters. There are, of course, your normal crunchy and smooth varieties, but they also have more exotic flavours like dark chocolate, maple, honey, cinnamon raisin, white chocolate and some sort of spicy chilli concoction too. Overwhelmed by choice and clutching my bloated belly, I decided the best path of action would be to leave empty-handed!
I opted for a nice long walk home. It’s funny, because when at home I would never bother if given the choice between that and a quick public transport ride, but in New York there’s always something to see and do while walking. From Sullivan Street I walked west to Sixth Avenue, and then turned west onto Greenwich Avenue for a wander through Greenwich Village, by which time it was dark. I found a small September 11 tribute that I had first seen on my first trip to New York in 2002: a collection of small, hand-painted tiles made by schoolchildren all across the country (and, indeed, the world), hung up on chickenwire fence, sending love and best wishes to the people of New York. In 2002 they had been shiny and brand-new; now, 10 years later, they are slightly faded and weather-worn but (whether for better or for worse) nobody has made any move to remove them. I wonder if any of those kids, now much older, have ever passed by here to see that their tiles are still around and still being read by passers-by.
From Greenwich Avenue I turned on to 7th Avenue and headed for home, where I stayed up way too late, pottering, reading and dawdling. The whole ‘having space to myself’ thing was not getting tired at all! And that was me for the day.
Thanks for stopping by,
Tara.
Born in Hong Kong and raised all over the world, I've been tootling around for 33 years now. A Spanish friend of mine once said that "the smallest pot has the finest marmalade"... I have to agree with her! I'm small but I can still make 6-foot Brazilian bodybuilders cry if the need arises. And I never need to whinge about legroom on a plane!
little tara 