new york continued..........

Well once again it was fairly late to bed to be followed by a night of tossing and turning and, for some reason, going through the New York alphabet in my head.  Yesterday I should have written things down first instead of rushing it but you are getting to know me better and my if jumbled thoughts and ramblings have not put you off already, I don't suppose they will do so now. 

K is a bit difficult and I cannot be a fraud.  Chris told us to go and have a pastrami at Katz Deli on Houston Street in Manhattan and we never got there.  The kosher deli was made famous by the scene in "Where Harry met Sally" where Meg Ryan had her famous "I want one of those" orgasms.  Not that I have a thing about Meg Ryan but Michael had been pretty bummed that he did not find her on the top of the Empire State Building waiting for him and being the possessive new wife that I was, I did not fancy any competition and heaven help me if they seated me on the very same chair!!  Under C I forgot about cheesecake - we sampled a couple of perfect slices, plain baked ones, pecan toffee topped ones, dark and white chocolate marbled ones.   I voted the one at Juniors at Grand Central Station the best.  The most creamy and decadent slice of cheesecake you could ever sample.  I still dream about it.  The waitress told me that Philadelphia cream cheese is the secret!!

Great foodie picture hey?

Which leads me onto G and the fact that I forgot about Grand Central Station (seriously slipping up).  The light shining through the arched windows, the marble, the people who move so fast and never bump into each other - what a great building.  Next time the tour must be done.  Did you know there are secret rooms and tunnels and a "whispering bar". 

Michael looking for Meg at Grand Central (looking a tad despondent)

L is for Library.  The public library next to Bryant Park on 5th Avenue (I think).  Another beautiful building with incredible windows and paintings and marble and which as you walk into it you get the feeling that you have been there before but that is because you have been there before - in movies - "Regarding Henry", "Sex in the City", "Breakfast at Tiffany's" "Ghostbusters" and plenty others.

M is for Museums (sorry we did not do too much of them), Macy's (very disappointing - rails crammed tight with bargains but too difficult to find anything) but we did use (and recommend) the Megabus.  New York to Washington DC return for 2 for $4.50 (the 50c was the booking fee - their adverts don't lie).  About 3 and half hours each way, amazing coach, smooth drive, lovely scenery.  We had 2 days and 1 night in Washington DC (post for another time)

P is for pavements, parks (and pretzels).  The pavements are wide and smooth and you wish that you also had a scooter or roller skates.  You see rich old ladies with purple hair walking their poodles with rhinestone studded collars (promise) and young people walking lots of dogs (professional dog walkers).  You look out for Jack Nicholson jumping over the cracks in the pavement but you must have missed him by minutes.  You look up to the top of the buildings and see rooftop gardens and realise that so many people actually live in the centre of the city.  Very rich people.  I loved greeting those posh "doormen" standing to attention outside the buildings.

The parks and gardens are great.  The Brooklyn Botanical Gardens is a piece of paradise in middle of suburbia and Central Park (sorry C) is enormous.  I loved the buskers in the parks (and subways) and at Strawberry Fields in Central Park we spent ages listening to fans playing their favourite John Lennon song, kneeling down to pray, to lay down flowers or just sit and watch the crowds passing by and eating their lunch bought at Zabar's Deli (like us). 

Pavement on 5th Avenue

This "Dude" looks after the mosaic and calls himself the "Curator"

R is for Rockefeller Centre.  When we first arrived in New York the front of the Rockefeller Centre was a food court with people sitting and eating and reading in the sun.  After travelling for 3 weeks and getting back to New York for the second time it had been converted into an ice skating rink.  We spent one cold evening watching some of the crazy characters on the ice. 

S is for subways.  Pretty easy to understand - no colours, just numbers and all you have to be sure of is that you know your north from your south (thank goodness for Michael).





T is for taxi (lots of yellow taxis around but never needed to use one) and Times Square.  Our bus from Washington dropped us off at Madison Square Gardens just when all the shows were starting.  We took time to watch the people (again) and took lots of pictures on Times Square.  Did not see David Letterman.

Every movie I now see which was filmed in New York immediately grabs my attention.  Judy, my sister-in-law is a great tour guide and also a movie buff so she filled me in on exactly where movies like August Rush were filmed.  She pointed out areas of Columbia University that are often filmed and she is correct, they keep popping up in movies and TV shows.

UVWXYZ - is the end of the alphabet.  I am sure if I really tried I could get all the way to the end but on looking at my photographs I have on this computer, it is a bit complicated.

I don't mean to sound like a travel agent or pretend that I am well-travelled, I am not.  Any chance I had to travel in the past was always to head to the UK or Europe (the UK to visit my brother or boys who were all there at some time, and Europe because there is so much there that I still want to see).  I still love London and hopefully Michael and I will visit there together soon (like next year) to visit his sister Jennifer and Andrea and their families, to visit the lake district and throw in a visit to St Andrews (as a reward to Michael).  Then on to Glasgow to say hello to the new additions to our family, the Rutherford's.

I cannot put my finger on exactly what is so special about New York.  My feeling is that it feels like home because you have been transported there so often in the movies.  It is big and bold and loud but it makes you feel brave and welcome. 

Perhaps Andrea can find a special flight deal from Manchester to New York for a week or so? September is a good month to travel.

new york calling...........

On the 25 September 2009 Michael and I left Cape Town on honeymoon.  We had told only family and one or two friends about our wedding the day before and from OR Tambo airport, I sms'd the entire contact list on my phone to let them know that I was off to the USA and Canada for a month and that I was now Mrs Kotze.  This was all in the queue to board and the messages started coming in thick and fast before I switched off and went onto sms roaming only.  Caroline was under strict instructions not to let on to the Americans and Canadians what had transpired and off we flew.  I had never been to the States before and I knew that I would love New York, for the rest I had no great expectations so this was an adventure.  I am a real child though and the whole airport and flying experience excites me no end (even if I am only flying to Port Elizabeth I get excited).  I love the taking off and the landing and don't mind the bumps at all.  I love the smell of the food and the food served with all the compartments and packaging and those lovely Kiri cheeses.  I love the  movies and wine trolley and I do not sleep.  I love walking the aisles in the dark and head for the kitchen at the back for a muffin or a chocolate and sometimes a chat with a stranger.  The only time I drink Southern Comfort and ginger ale is on a flight (just the smell of that drink brings back wonderful memories).  I also love my clear toiletry bag and stock up all those different wipes which refresh, clean, sanitise, brighten and tighten.  I love that free toothbrush that they give you in the container and the tiny little toothpaste that you get for nothing. The socks I collect for Nic.  I sometimes love the cosy blanket they give you so much (if it is the right colour) that it begins to love me back and does not want to say goodbye to me and somehow it finds it's way into my hand luggage (much to my mother and sister's horror).  I love airports and watching people leave and cry and arrive and cry.  I make up stories about their lives and where they are going to and who they are running from.  On the flight to New York they had the movie "Little Manhattan" showing.  The sweetest movie about a little boy on a scooter and Central Park and the wide pavements.  It set the tone perfectly and poor Michael did not get much rest with an energy bunny next to him who kept poking him and pointing out the hot spots.  I also opened cards and letters from our children and family and I cried and laughed and was just the happiest person ever.  And to top it all I was going to New York.

I think that Michael's family thought that he had made a grave mistake by bringing over this new, very excitable wife.  Once they guessed (it took awhile) the reason for the excitement, I was excused and the holiday began.  I could go into so much more detail but I thought I would just fill you in on what I love so much about New York and why it is now my favourite city in the world.  I so need to go back sometime soon.  Michael's niece Janet (now my niece too) who lives in the UK is heading to the USA in a week or two and I am so excited for her.   Her blog is good, I am sure you will love it too.  Anyway she got me thinking about a posting on New York, so here is why it is just the most exciting, mind blowing and vibrant city in the whole world.  Alphabetically:-

A is for Anthropology.  Lovely niece and new mom Jaye introduced me to this shop near Rockefeller Centre.  I made a few visits there and thank goodness we had another 6 days there at the end of our trip.  Did not buy as much as I would have liked there but they had awesome stuff.  I bought a plate like the one in the middle and huge tea cups for Dalene and Gareth the tea drinkers in the family




Threw in a great cardigan for myself as well, but in black.  They should open a branch in Cavendish.

B is for Brooklyn (where Michael's nieces Jaye and Joanna both live a couple of blocks (big enormous blocks) from each other), brownstone homes, Brooklyn bridge, bagels:-


Rows and rows of homes like this, fancy ones next to not so fancy ones, car mechanics fixing cars and working out of their homes living next to mansions with chauffeur driven limos.

Bryant Park (a personal favourite - we kept bumping into it, next to the public library and where the New York fashion show is held (Project Runway)). Old men playing boulle, youngsters playing table tennis, chess games, grass, tables and free merry-go-round rides for the children.  They show free movies there at night in summer. .

Also the most amazing public toilets that automatically know when you are finished and when they can flush and disinfect.  If you think I am joking please do yourself a favour and click this link as well.  "Thank you Jenny for that wonderful piece of information" - Pleasure.

Brooklyn Bridge - We walked it on our first day with the whole family and on our last night we got there for the sunset.  The most special sunset ever where we saw the city gradually light up and the sun go down.  Also so special because it was a fitting end to our last night in New York and our timing was perfect (not always easy to judge just how far you have to walk from a subway).

C is for Chis - the crazy husband of Jaye and father of Theo (one very cute little boy).  Chris is a teacher and writer and used to work at Strand Bookstore (19 miles of books).  We paid the bookstore a visit but could not do it justice in the time we had (because of an emergency).  I bought some wonderful map type gift wrap, a rude fridge magnet poetry game and a couple of $1 books I thought the boys would enjoy.  We went down into the basements and I suddenly had the urge to find a toilet (bathroom - the emergency).  Dark, dusty and quiet places do that to me.

D is for Dunkin Donuts

Seriously over-rated.  Tim Horton's - originally from Canada and now all over America was a much better option and I preferred their coffee to Starbucks as well.

E is for Empire State Building.  The most wonderful art deco building, we got off a couple of stories too soon and I huffed and puffed up about 10 long flights of stairs.  Getting to the top was the cherry on the top.  A special place for Michael to walk around and look for Meg Ryan while I looked for a lost little boy with teddy called Howard.  No luck for either of us.  We were destined to be together.  To see the enormity of New York from the sky is something incredible.  The view that amazed me the most was of just how big Central Park is (apparently Monaco will fit into Central Park).

F is for THE FALL.  Judy, our sister-in-law was 100% right.  You see pictures and hear all about the colours of "the Fall" but to see it first hand is better than any picture.

G is for Greenwich Village.  You expect to bump into someone famous on every turn. Sarah Jessica and Matthew Broderick live there, Julia Robert and Uma Thurman as well.  Wonderful homes and there is a special tour which will take you to see the celebrity homes (not Michael's cup of tea so I had to compromise).  On our first night Derek and Judy took us to a Thai Restaurant in the Village.  We also popped into a pub to watch some baseball.  Busy and buzzing and you could just imagine Bob Dylan playing in a small bistro on the corner.

Greenwich Village

 

H must be for Hot Dogs.  On every corner.  I finally tried a chilli dog in Washington and realised what I had been missing by eating an ordinary "dog" (very much like the hot dogs we make at home).  I was the only one who enjoyed the salted pretzels and they wondered why I was always so thirsty.

J is a doubly special one.  Joanna and Jaye the Brooklyn nieces.  Joanna the dancer and Jaye who consults and makes the most divine invitations and cards.  We stayed with Joanna and Jon (artist husband) when we first arrived in New York and then spent the second session with Jaye, Chris and Theo before we left.

Joanna and Jaye

This is half way through the alphabet and I will finish it off tomorrow.  I did not realise how long it would take to upload all the pictures, sorry Aunty Norma who has called to find out if I was alright and to politely complain about the lack of activity on my blog today.  So good to have such a faithful follower.  I have now missed Brothers & Sisters but this series is irritating me "big time".  The whole bunch of them (except the french man) and in particular Sally Field.  Their use of cellphones and telephones in every episode leaves much to be desired and I am confused and perhaps jealous that they can hold calls, have conference calls, interrupt calls and all talk at the same time (and what have they done to all the grandchildren).

recycling memories

Plettenberg Bay in the July holidays has been on my calendar since the boys were in nappies (okay probably since 1988 and probably only Matthew had a nappy (and a blanket and a dummy)).  It was a time when the whole of the southern suburbs headed up the garden route to escape the long, wet winter school holiday in Cape Town.  Kathy and I would load up our cars – those black plastic motor-bikes, groceries (there was no Pick n Pay or Checkers in Plett in those days, only a rather expensive Spar and this holiday usually blew our budget for the year so the shopping was done at home in bulk).  The cars were something to be seen.  No. 1 on the list in those days was Julia (my domestic helper at the time who has worked for our family for years (she still works for Dalene and my mom)).  Julia would bring her daughter – the cars were packed full and roof racks overloaded (one year we even took a tumble drier).  All that was missing was a chicken or two.  We would rent the biggest budget house on Margaret Smart’s books.  We must have stayed in more than 10 different houses over the years (some great, some freezing cold, some seriously shabby).  We eventually found “Beckers can’t be Choosers” on Central Beach, the most perfectly located of them all and that became “our house” until the owners decided to renovate it. 

In the beginning the boys would spend their time with us mostly on the beach, digging, playing beach bats, swimming (Monkeyland was a favourite). When they were slightly older the Beacon Isle became the main attraction because of the arcade games, then golf became the order of the day and each boy wanted to bring a friend and suddenly you have 8 little boys, 2 teenage boys (Kris and a friend), throw in a niece or two and no wonder we needed the biggest budget house on the books. 

Then the teenage years arrived with very late nights and picking them up from the Cave – girls were now a part of their holiday fun.  This made a change from the old days when we would leave them with videos, popcorn, fizzers and Julia for the night when we went through to The Tapas Bar in Knysna to party until all hours.  What goes around, comes around.

The early days also revolved around the Knysna marathon and for that weekend the crowds would arrive and our house that was supposed to sleep 12 was littered with mattresses and extra bodies.  It was party weekend.  We would leave Plettenberg Bay on the Friday to meet everyone at Crabs Creek for lunch.  The runners would register and we would head back to Plett for a pizza at Cranzigots (and buy the t-shirt and sweatshirt). 


Up bright and early for the run (or fun run for some).  You would have to book your spot on the lawns of the stadium from early and there you would watch the runners come in, drink Forrester's beer and usually party in the stadium until late in the afternoon.  The children would organize touch rugby on the fields and have a ball. 

This is only the second year that we have missed being in Plettenberg Bay.  The last couple of years there have been just as busy but with different dynamics.  Dalene now has the young children, my brother and his friends are there to run the race, the boys arrive with their girlfriends and/or friends,  my mother loves being involved in the activities and Michael has passed his initiation.  Two years ago at the end of our two week holiday there, he proposed.  Brave man.

Time moves on and things change.  This year Gareth and Nic are there with their friends and/or girlfriends, eating oysters, drinking Forrester's, running and supporting their friends who are running.  But they have their pizzas at

Cornuti's

and no longer party on the lawn but head for the closest pub to watch the rugby (there always seems to be some big match on race day). I know they will always pay a visit to Crabs Creek where they will relate stories of Fred Dieterle who entertained them for hours one holiday many years ago.  Naughty boys that they were they dredged slimy water out of the lagoon into a beer tankard, added salt and pepper and Tabasco from the tables and came around offering it to the adults to drink.  Some refused, some pretended to drink it and good old Fred downed the entire 500ml tankard.  To see the eyes of those little boys grow bigger and bigger is something I will always remember (they of course never ever will forget it) and Fred will always be their hero for that brief act of madness (no wonder his race time was his worst ever).  I am sure that they will also visit the Heads where it became their family ritual to jump into the water off the wooden deck at the change rooms (next to the NSRI) and swim to the buoy no matter what the weather was like or temperature of the water was.

I have had a lovely weekend in Cape Town on my own (Michael is here but golfing) – very strange because everyone is away (Dalene, Tom and the girls in Pringle Bay, Kathy overseas, Lesley working) but I have time to spend on the computer and in the garden and the kitchen.  I have visited special friends and have been thinking lots about how life changes and revolves and it is all pretty weird because you feel exactly the same but things are different and you can't expect them to stay the same. 

It won’t be long before the boys will be packing their own cars to the roof, adding a few children and a wife (they won’t need to stock up on groceries and wine) and heading up the garden route to spend holidays in Plettenberg Bay to make their own memories.  This is probably still a way off but I will offer to travel in Julia’s place and stay at home with popcorn and fizzers and dvd’s while they pretend they are teenagers again.

But then again, maybe I won’t. I will bring Julia along to look after the children while they take me to Crabs Creek to listen of stories of Fred Dieterle and to eat oysters and drink chilled white wine.  We will also take a trip to the Heads to see whose little boy (or girl ;)) will be able to withstand the freezing water.  Some things will never change and probably weren't meant to.

stop watching me like i am a hawk

It is always great to have Matthew home.  It takes me awhile to get back into his quirky humour and his strange use of the english language.  He has a very cryptic mind and we refer to him as "Jude" (the Obscure).  Gareth started these nonsense word games and I think he got it from Grandad Dick (my step-dad).  He loved puns (the corny ones I remember and the clever ones often went over everyone's head) and crosswords.  He taught the boys bits of cockney slang and I think that is where Gareth started making up words.  One of the first ones that I remember was when I called Gareth one day from the office.  I asked him who was at home with him and his answer was "Just me and Pieter Dirk"."Who is Pieter Dirk?".  "Pieter Dirk Uys" (South African comedian), he replies.  Anyway the play of words was on Uys "I am on my Uys (own)" but that has now been taken a step further and if ever they are on their own they now say "I'm on my Pieter Dirk" or "Only me and Pieter Dirk".

Matthew played rugby with a guy called Michael Passaportis.  Jude (Matthew) called me one day to ask me where his Michael was.  "Michael?"  In the "Book according to Matthew" a passport is now called a Michael.  He no longer plays rugby with the guy but he still calls a passport a "Michael" (and the weird thing is that I know what he is talking about).  Still on the sporting front they will ask each other "Where did you Lawrence the car?" (Lawrence Sephaka (park)).  Matthew also gets very Solly if he does not make the team (Solly Tyibilika (bleak)).  Hershelle Gibbs (top cricketer and party animal of note who once admitted that he had never read a book in his life) is another victim of Rossleeisms.  Nic will sometimes "do a Gibbs" on a book (not going to read it) or Gareth will have had "a real Hershelle" (serious party).

While in Canada in 2009 with Michael's family, his mom (then 89) and with a slightly dodgy memory was able to recite the entire cockney alphabet along with a few of the Kotze clan.  I did not understand much of it and needed it explained to me. I still did not understand it and after finding it in one of my books the other day, I now "kind-of" get it thanks to Google.

A for 'orses (hay for horses)

B for mutton (beef or mutton)

C for yourself (see for yourself)

D for 'ential (deferential)

E for Adam (Eve or Adam)

F for 'vescence (effervescence)

G for police (Chief of Police)

H for respect (age for respect)

I for the girls

J for cakes (Jaffa cakes)

K for Sutherland (Keifer Sutherland) - new one, or K for 'teria (cafeteria)

L for leather (Hell for leather)

M for 'sis (emphasis)

N for 'adig (in for a dig, or infradig)

O for the garden wall (over the garden wall)

P for relief (pee for relief)

Q for chips (queue for chips)

R for mo' (half a mo')

S for you (it's for you)

T for two (tea for two)

U for 'mism (euphemism)

V for La France (Vive la France)

W for a bob (double you for a bob)

X for breakfast (eggs for breakfast)

Y for crying out loud (why, for crying out loud)

Z for breezes (zephyr breezes) - explain please

If you are interested enough and need to translate, take a look here.

I remember driving to that school with step-dad Dick and Lesley one morning.  I was asking Lesley to explain a couple of jokes to me that I did not understand (Lesley always understood jokes having been blessed with an older brother and I was a bit doff in that department).  Confession:  I used to hear the jokes on the weekend and write them in my diary to ask her for an explanation on the Monday morning.  Remember those corny ones "Why is Ms. Yardley smiling?" "Because Max Factor".  Okay that one was explained slowly to me by her.  Next one "Please put it in your Palmolive".  Lesley blushed brighter than Ms. Yardley ever could and Dickles put Radio 5 (which he hated) on full volume.