Back in the USA

David Gourley's account of his return trip to the USA, 50 years on, continues...

Elkhorn Arch, Downtown Jackson

After our overnight stay in Sheridan, Wyoming, we drove north across the border into Montana. Here we visited the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, the scene of Custer’s Last Stand. The Native Americans won that particular battle but of course lost the overall war.  The site was formerly known as the Custer Battlefield National Monument. In 1991 President George H W Bush signed a law that changed this to its present name. We had a drive round this extensive area, conducted by a guide from the Crow Tribe. We stopped at various sites, all against a splendid “Big Sky Country” backdrop. Then there was time to look round the Visitors Centre and nearby memorials. We were particularly moved by the words of Chief Two Moons of the Northern Cheyenne tribe who in 1916 wrote: “forty years ago, I fought Custer until all were dead. I was then the enemy of the white man. Now I am his friend and brother, living under the flag of our country”. After lunch in Billings, we re-crossed the border with Wyoming, continuing to Cody for an overnight stop. This town is named from William Cody, aka Buffalo Bill.

We now had a full day, and part of the next day, in Yellowstone, which was established in 1872, the first national park in the USA, and generally believed to be the first such park in the world. The weather on these two days was to be very different: bright sunshine on the first, snow on the second albeit this was still September. Nilani, our tour guide, thoughtfully rejigged our itinerary to ensure that we saw the park’s premier attraction, Old Faithful, on the first rather than the second day, in case the snow prevented us from reaching it.

Yellowstone has to be one of the highlights of any tour of this part of the USA. The scenic drive from Cody provided a taster. Its vast acreage is above all known for its geothermal features with many hot springs and mud pools, as well as its own version of the Grand Canyon. There are still, in the northern part of the park, reminders of the devastating fire in 1988, since the policy is to let nature takes its course rather than chop down the stricken trees. Usually wildfires do no great damage, and indeed can be good for the ecosystem, but this one got seriously out of control. The Old Faithful geyser is so named because it can be relied on to erupt at regular intervals. It is commonly supposed that these are hourly but generally the interval is a bit longer. This is in contrast to the geyser we have twice visited in Rotorua, New Zealand, where there is no predictability at all: first time we were lucky, second time not. We were fortunate with our timing at Old Faithful as we were there long enough to see it erupt twice. Nearby, the historic Old Faithful Inn, the largest log structure in the world, is worth a visit even if one is not staying or dining there.

Our overnight stop was in West Yellowstone, just over the border in Montana. Cody and West Yellowstone are both “gateway towns “to the National Park. Cody lies to its east and is charming. West Yellowstone – bit of a clue in the name - lies to its west and is not charming.

The weather forecast was right and there was thick snow as we re-entered Yellowstone. We were nevertheless able to fit in the stops that had been scheduled for the previous day. But we were glad that Nilani had rejigged the itinerary for, as we drove through the park towards Old Faithful we were turned back: the road ahead was closed for a coach apparently had come off the road. Nilani had to think on her feet. We were to have continued through Teton National Park to the mountain resort of Jackson for our overnight stop. It was now decided that we would retrace our journey to West Yellowstone then divert into Idaho before returning to Wyoming. It was disappointing that we would as a result miss out one of our national parks: we had to content ourselves with seeing the Teton Mountains from the distance. But, swings and roundabouts, this disappointment was outweighed by our delight at seeing Yellowstone in the snow. Later we met a know-all from another coach who boasted that his party had driven through Teton National Park before the road closed. But another chap in the same party confided that they had seen nothing of it due to poor visibility.

Lunch in West Yellowstone was at McDonald’s. Normally we don’t touch this chain with a bargepole; this reminded us why. Approaching Jackson we drove along the scenic valley of the Snake River. Some in our party had booked an optional river float. I think that they were relieved rather than disappointed that this was cancelled due to weather conditions!

Our hotel in Jackson was a little way out of town but we were able to use its free buses to get into the centre. It is an elegant resort with a spruce central square that is guarded by four gates made of elkhorn. Dinner was back near our hotel, in the Gun Barrel Steak and Game House, a characterful place with a real Wild West atmosphere. The staff were friendly and food good. For my main I had an elk dish. The next morning we had, unusually, to pay for breakfast as we were instead having an included picnic lunch, to be eaten overlooking Bear Lake, en route to Salt Lake City. We were actually pleased as our included breakfasts had tended to be fairly basic. Here I could at last indulge in that signature American dish, corned beef hash.

We had a two-night stay in Salt Lake City, the capital of Utah. We were thus returning to a city that we had first stayed in nearly fifty years previously, when making our way by Greyhound Coach across America. Utah is known as the Mormon State with around two thirds of its inhabitants adhering to that religion. Mormonism, or more formally the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS), has its origins in a vision which came to Joseph Smith in 1820. Its adherents migrated from the east coast, ultimately reaching what became the Territory, later the State, of Utah. Following a further vision, polygamy was banned. The church is hierarchical but there is no clerical garb: for male priests it’s a white shirt worn with a tie. Coffee and alcohol are prohibited so I don’t think I’ll be signing up any time soon. But Utah, contrary to what some assume, is not a dry state.  Rather as in Norway, alcohol can only be bought from approved outlets so it won’t be found in the local supermarket. And, one cannot have a pre-dinner drink in a restaurant: one must first be seated and place one’s order for food.

Salt Lake City is the world HQ of the LDS. Before transferring to our hotel we had an included visit to Temple Square. The Temple itself is out of bounds to non-Mormons but the visitor is otherwise welcome to look around. We were ushered into the Tabernacle where two sister missionaries, the one from El Salvador and the other from Thailand, gave us a talk about their religion. Such talks are not at all “in your face”, though any show of interest will be eagerly followed up. Nilani recalled a previous client, who was an atheist, giving the sisters a hard time. She had felt it necessary to apologize but was assured that they had come across worse! All our party listened politely.

We had an optional tour of the city the next day. This first took us out to the Great Salt Lake. As might be inferred from the name, it has very high salinity so one floats rather than swims in the lake. In this respect, though not really in any other, it resembles the Dead Sea, on whose shore we had stayed when touring Jordan. Back in the city we visited the This is the Place Heritage Park, so called because it is the place where, in 1847, Brigham Young saw the valley that would become the Mormon Pioneers’ new home. Here are the striking monument of the same name and the heritage village which recreates buildings from the pioneering era. We got talking to a lady in period dress who was working at a spinning wheel.

This must in its time have been very monotonous work. Why, one didn’t even have the diversion of a radio to keep one's spirits up! But this clearly deep-thinking lady suggested that maybe people in those simpler times were happier than their present day counterparts, with none of the stresses of the modern world to worry about. We rounded off our tour with a visit to the Utah State Capitol, which we had visited in 1968. Here we enjoyed a self-guided tour of this beautiful building. Images of the honeybee, a state symbol (yes, every state has its official insect), are much in evidence.

We had the afternoon free in Salt Lake City. First priority was lunch. We settled on the LDS-owned Joseph Smith Memorial Building (JSMB), which is adjacent to Temple Square. We had a good meal in its Roof Restaurant, from which fine views over the city are to be enjoyed. I made the mistake of having a starter as well as a main. It was dawning on me that American portion sizes are huge. By no means do I have a dainty appetite but I was not able to finish my main course of pasta. I assured our friendly waiter, Jason, that it was good; I’d have managed to finish a British-size portion!

The ten-storey JSMB is a handsome building which in former times was the prestigious Utah Hotel, the “Grande Dame of Salt Lake City”. In 1968 we had been lodged in a rather less prestigious establishment. Coinciding with our visit was one from a somewhat more noteworthy figure, Hubert Humphrey, the Vice-president and Democratic contender in the forthcoming presidential election. He stayed at the Utah Hotel and used his visit to make an important speech in which he distanced himself from Lyndon Johnson’s policy on Vietnam. He was defeated in the election by Richard Nixon.

The late sixties were a time of turmoil in America, though we saw none of it ourselves. There was much unrest over Vietnam and over civil rights: earlier in 1968 Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King had both been gunned down. On our journey across America we had stayed in Chicago where, weeks earlier, the Democratic Convention had been accompanied by riots, and we passed through Detroit, where there had been devastating riots a year previously. These are generally held to mark the start of the seemingly inexorable decline of the once-proud “Motor City”.

This was also the period of youth rebellion and of the hippies. In San Francisco we took a trolleybus out to Haight-Ashbury, the centre of hippiedom. This was out of curiosity for we were not at all hippyish ourselves: no room for any flowers in my unfashionably short hair! But there was a kind of dotty idealism that was not altogether unappealing. After all who does not want love and peace? Unhappily there was also the drug culture and the terrible “Manson Family” killings in 1969 put an end once and for all to any illusions of innocence. In Salt Lake City, by contrast, we had seen a sign in a barber shop urging customers to come in for their short back and sides since “the clean American look is still alive”. And so it was, at least in Utah. We then spent some more time in Temple Square, this time visiting, in fact revisiting, the North Visitors’ Center. We remembered from 1968 the striking statue, white against a starry background, of Jesus Christ. Then, as we sometimes do, we went our separate ways for an hour or so, as Cathy wanted to look round the large department store, Nordstrom, whereas I didn’t. We entered the store together before I went off for a walk and straight away we came across another instance of American friendliness. In a five-minute conversation we learnt from the lady who greeted us that she had a son in Denver (where we’d started our journey), a daughter who had married an Englishman and was living in Woodstock, Oxfordshire, where she was studying for a doctorate at Oxford, that she could not afford the fare to visit her, and that she had not long been widowed. This was not told in any self-pitying way, nor was she trying to sell us anything.

Our hotel was about a mile out from the centre. Again we were able to avail ourselves of free public transport since the city’s trams – not there in ’68 – are free in the central (though not the suburban) area.•

First Published in VISA 140 (August 2018)

The Black Hills of Dakota

By David Gourley

Ranger in Laramie / Wall Drug

This trip overlapped two previous visits to the States. Fifty years ago we travelled by Greyhound Coach right across America, from New York to San Francisco, passing through the States of Wyoming and Utah. Thirty years ago we did a tour of the Southwest USA which coincided with the final part of this trip.

We tacked on to the start of the trip an extra night in Denver. We were glad that we did, for we arrived quite late in the evening and there was an early morning departure the next day. Furthermore we got to see downtown Denver. No-one else on our tour did for we were lodged in Cherry Creek, a mile or so away. This is a somewhat soulless area though it's no doubt a great place if, unlike me, one loves shopping, since it boasts of being the premier shopping destination in Denver.

We made our way into the downtown using a local bus. We were to find during our trip that the people we encountered were on the whole very friendly, more so in fact than is the norm back home. Our British accents - of course we think it is the Americans, not us, who have accents! - might  attract attention with people interested to know where else in the States we had been. We got a taste of this friendliness on this our first excursion. The charming young lady driving the bus insisted, on reaching the terminus, on walking us to the nearby stop where one boards another bus for the mall ride, through the heart of the downtown to Union Station. She then talked us through our return journey, where to get on and where to get off.

The mall ride is free. We were also to benefit from free public transport in Jackson, Wyoming and in Salt Lake City. I don't think one is going to find that anywhere back home. Actually, being of a certain age, we do get free bus travel but that's not what I am talking about.   Historic Union Station is still used by a few trains, but its prime purpose these days is as a centre for restaurants and small shops. We walked back along the route of the mall ride, finishing at the Colorado State Capitol. This became the second such capitol that we have visited; we had looked round its Utah counterpart, in Salt Lake City, back in 1968 and did so again this time.

The people in the Capitol were friendly and welcoming. We got a free guided tour conducted by John, something of a character who, following his retirement from his job with the State, had rebelled against past conformity by growing a ponytail and wearing earrings. Hmm.... At least the ponytail had gone. The tour involved a lot of stair climbing, rewarded by fine views from the top. Denver is the “mile high city” and there is a marker in the Capitol showing where this height is actually reached. The timing was good for, on finishing our tour, we were able to watch the annual display of square dancing that takes place in the Capitol. The dancers were all elderly folk (around our age!) dressed in colourful costume. Square dancing is Colorado's state dance. I knew that there are state birds, mottos and so on, but it was news to me that there are state dances. Following the guidance we had been given, we found our way back to our hotel without trouble.

Our drive the next day was to Rapid City in South Dakota, where we were to stay two nights. En route we passed through Wyoming and its capital Cheyenne. This had been one of our stops during our Greyhound journey, a charming small town which still had something of a Wild West feel. I recalled seeing “Big Boy”, the world's largest steam locomotive, and a statue of Esther Hobart Morris, a pioneer in women's suffrage. In 2018 Britain is celebrating 100 years of (some) women getting the vote but Wyoming got there a lot sooner, in 1869 becoming the first place anywhere to enfranchise women. I wondered if I'd see either of these attractions this time, for our tour brochure had promised a stop in Cheyenne. I was to be disappointed, for we by-passed the downtown.

There was a stop of sorts in Cheyenne, at the local Wallmart so we could purchase a picnic lunch. These huge supermarkets seemed to me to be rather soulless places. Our guide Nilani conceded that many in the States don't love this chain, as they think it has driven many smaller shops out of business. We were to experience another Wallmart later on in our tour. That one had an unsmiling security guard who stopped anyone with a rucksack going in to the store; not a concern about security, but a fear that people would use rucksacks for stolen goods. Viewing one’s customers as potential thieves doesn't strike me as a good attitude towards them.

Our lunchtime stop was at Fort Laramie, a one-time military post and now a National Historic Site. I am interested in US history and can rattle off the names of presidents in the twentieth century, but know little about the expansion of the country from the original 13 states right across the North American continent. Fort Laramie was a vital stopping point for pioneers working their way westwards along the Oregon Trail, especially before  the first Transcontinental Railroad opened in 1869. It is also  where  a treaty was signed with Native American tribes, acknowledging their territorial rights. Unhappily it was not long before the treaty broke down as a result of gold being discovered in the Black Hills. When Nilani contacted us by phone in Denver, prior to the start of the tour, I had wondered, given her unusual name, whether she was a Native American. She is a Canadian who has lived most of her life in the States, having married an American from whom she is now divorced. But she clearly had great interest in, and empathy with, Native Americans.  She told us that, whilst they are invariably welcoming to tourists, most inwardly still resent the way their tribes have been treated over the years. In Monument Valley we had, as is customary, a Navajo guide. They like to be known as Native Americans, not Indians: “Indians live in India.”

It did not escape notice that the chemistry between Nilani and our driver was not good. He took a wrong turning on the way to Fort Laramie. No- one minded as it was a more scenic route and we were not seriously delayed. Nevertheless it was clear that he did not know his way. He was relying on his sat-nav, but there are times when old-fashioned map reading skills are to be preferred. I was able to help, as I invariably take maps on holiday and had two covering the area of our tour which were more detailed than the map that Nilani had.  I was amazed when, after our fairly long break at Fort Laramie, our driver again didn't know which way to go. I would have expected him to have spent his free time making sure that he did know. Again my map was needed. My guess is that Nilani was getting pretty fed up with having to do some of the navigating, a task that the driver could reasonably be expected to do for himself.

We crossed the border into South Dakota so I got to see the Black Hills at last. The next day we headed to the Mount Rushmore National Monument, the famous sculpture depicting the heads of four presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt (Teddy, not Franklin). Here another disappointment - in a tour that overall was very far from disappointing - awaited. We had been complacent about the weather, which in Denver had been well over 80°F. Here, much further north, it was considerably lower. Worse, it was raining and there was poor  visibility, so much so that we couldn't actually see the sculpture. I just about managed to discern, through the mist, the mountain itself.

I was wondering whether we were jinxed when it comes to seeing heads carved out of mountainsides: a number of years previously, cloud had suddenly descended in New Hampshire, preventing us from seeing the Old Man of the Mountain. However, just a few miles away, in weather that was now bright and sunny, we saw the Crazy Horse Monument, also carved out of a mountain and depicting the Native American chief of that name. This is still work in progress, with a large educational/cultural centre also planned. It reflects the view that Native Americans also deserve a mountainside monument.

We made our way to Wall Drug. That doesn't sound good in British English, but in American English the meaning is wholly innocent. It is located in the small town of Wall, gateway to the Badlands.  It  is something of a South Dakota institution. Numerous billboards along the approaching highway advertise it. The story is that, after its foundation in 1931, the store didn't do well at first, located as the owners saw it “in the middle of nowhere”. Then they had the bright idea of erecting billboards along the nearby highway offering free iced water to people on their way to and from Mount Rushmore. It has thrived ever since.  The  store includes a characterful, if a little chaotic, restaurant. I had a buffalo burger.

We then visited the first of our national parks, the South Dakota Badlands. All such visits were very thoughtfully organized with plenty of stops. Bafflingly Nilani also put on a video of the Badlands. We ignored this: no doubt she meant well, but why look at a video when one can see the real thing? The Badlands are magnificent, a stunning area of buttes (isolated hills with steep, often vertical sides and a small, relatively flat top), pinnacles, and spires blended with the largest undisturbed mixed grass prairie in the United States. This was a wonderful finish to the day.

We headed the next day out of South Dakota, first stopping in Deadwood. This picturesque town retains something of a Wild West atmosphere. The visitor might be surprised that there are several casinos. I have something of an aversion to casinos, but consoled myself with the knowledge that they are owned by Native Americans, bringing valuable revenue to their tribes. We had lunch in a charming old-fashioned inn, complete with sawdust on the floor, though our meal, Mexican tacos, might not have been on offer in Calamity's day.

While in Deadwood, we took an optional tour in a vintage bus driven by our entertaining local guide, Dave. This took us up a nearby hill from which there was a fine view over the town. The real point though was to visit Mount Moriah Cemetery. Here Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok are buried alongside each other. The visitor is told to forget about Doris Day as the life of the real Calamity was somewhat different to that depicted in the film. For starters she didn't marry Bill. They were friends but she ended up marrying someone else, the name on her grave being “Calamity Jane [aka] Mrs M E Burke”.

We criss-crossed the border into or out of Wyoming several times during our trip. We now headed back into that state where we stopped at Devil's Tower, a huge and isolated butte and a striking sight. When we went to reboard our bus a surprise awaited: a new bus and a new driver. No explanation was given, but we surmised that Nilani had complained to the tour company. Sympathy for the underdog kicked in as our departing driver looked forlorn. Our new driver never had any trouble finding his way and he and Nilani got on like a house on fire. We stayed overnight in Sheridan, a few miles further on.•

To be continued
First published in VISA 138 (April 2018)

Baltimore Break

By Maxine Bates

In October my partner and I spent four nights in Baltimore. Having booked flights and accommodation only 48 hours prior to travel there wasn’t much time for research so we ‘winged it’ upon arrival in the city. Met at passport control with an incredulous “But nobody comes on vacation to Baltimore!”, we did wonder if we’d made the right choice of destination but managed to fill our time with a range of sightseeing in unseasonably warm sunshine. Unfortunately the harbour cruises had stopped for winter and it was out of season for any baseball games.

The city is set around the pretty inner harbour and the main tourist attraction are the four historic ships docked in various parts of that harbour. We bought a combined ticket to visit all four, so explored two on one day and the remaining two ships on another day. I found the Torsk submarine the most interesting, especially the cramped sleeping quarters with bunks directly above the torpedoes! We timed our visit to the US coast guard cutter Taney to coincide with their daily engine room tour at 3pm which was almost a private tour. In fact most of the ships we had to ourselves. The others were entirely different; the wooden USS Constellation with its cannon deck and the lightship Chesapeake. Boats of a totally different type were the dragon shaped pedalos for hire in the harbour!

Also around the harbour is the World Trade Center. The tallest building in the city and the tallest pentagonal building in the world even though only 27 floors high. Tickets to go up in the elevator to the observation deck were reasonably priced and there are plentiful information panels about the city, buildings and famous people. Baltimore apparently had several pioneers in the medical field. Sadly the names of the 58 Marylanders who were aboard one of the planes that hit the other World Trade Center on 9/11 are etched on one of the windows. A fragment of steel from the New York ‘twin towers’ is also on display. Across the harbour is Fort McHenry, the birthplace of ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’. The fort is now home to an exhibition, cannons and magazine store. We started with a film show in the entrance building; at the end, the screen lifts to reveal a view of the fort and everyone stood for the national anthem. The fort was where the words to the anthem were written by Francis Scott Key, inspired by the flag flying over the fort after intense British naval bombardment during the war of 1812. The flag itself was sewn at the now-named Banner House in the city by Mary Young Pickersgill - another interesting location to visit.

We came across the Washington Monument by chance, but what a great find - the first tribute to the first US President, built in 1815 and a gift from the state of Maryland. There was a small admission charge to climb the 227 steps but they only accepted payment by card which neither of us had with us at the time. We were kindly let in for free but left some dollars in their donation box. 227 steps up also meant 227 steps down, but there were markers on the walls telling you how far there was to go. We also visited the grave of Edgar Allan Poe (spot the error in dates carved on the stone!); the indoor Lexington Market that has been in existence since 1782; the Walters Art Gallery (mostly because it was free and had air conditioning on a hot day but also quite interesting) and the quaint Fells Point area full of interesting shops, bars and restaurants. For nightlife there’s the trendy Power Plant district, and famous restaurants such as the Hard Rock Café and Bubba Gump, or why not sip a drink in the lobby bar of the historic Lord Baltimore Hotel accompanied by their piano player?

I’d not visited the USA for four years and was quite shocked at how the current exchange rate made most things seem expensive and how waiting staff now expect a 20% tip. Not the cheapest destination to visit, but a pleasant one. Washington DC is only an hour away by train but that could be another review in itself…•

First published in VISA 138 (April 2018)

Big Easy Christmas

By Gillian Kennedy

I have wanted to visit New Orleans for a very long time, ever since a friend did a two centre holiday to New Orleans and New York and said she much preferred the Big Easy to the Big Apple. As I love New York I just had to find out for myself.

My first attempt (during our 12 month globetrotting trip) was stymied by Hurricane Katrina making landfall two weeks before we were due to arrive. Several years later I was looking for ideas on where to spend Christmas. I discovered that, as a popular conference venue, hotels and restaurants in New Orleans make special efforts to attract visitors over the Christmas period, when there is no convention business. Being married to a Scotsman, avoiding peak flight and hotel prices over the holiday period was definitely an attractive option!

I booked our flights from Dublin (where we live) with Delta. I was a bit concerned when a friend said that Delta stands for “Doesn’t Ever Leave the Airport” but actually our flights went incredibly smoothly. Flying to the US from Dublin has the added bonus of passing through US customs and immigration at Dublin airport, which is much quicker and a lot less hassle than doing it on arrival in the States. After landing at Atlanta we got to the gate for our New Orleans flight within half an hour, without having to pass through any additional security.

We had booked a lovely B&B called Royal Street Courtyard in the Marigny, close to Frenchmen Street. As we were receiving a warm welcome and detailed guidance on where to go and what to do from our host Philip, we got the first hint of what a wonderful place NOLA (New Orleans Louisiana) is - a brass band passed by, complete of course with the obligatory second line. We had only just arrived and already we were experiencing what has been described as “the quintessential New Orleans art form – a jazz funeral without a body”. Of course we had to go out onto the verandah to watch the second line walking & twirling behind the band (first line) before getting back to the business in hand.

We freshened up and headed out to explore, wandering around a night market on Frenchmen before having a wonderful meal at a place recommended by Philip – Adolfo’s above the Apple Barrel. Here we had the best meal we’d had all year with the Scotsman opting for grouper with ocean sauce while I treated myself to rack of lamb.  Adolfo’s doesn’t take bookings, but it was no hardship to have a drink in the Apple Barrel while waiting for our table. After dinner we headed to the Spotted Cat for some live music before yawning got the better of me and we had an early night.

I had researched in advance what there was to do in NOLA over Christmas, as I was a bit concerned we would run out of things to do, or places would be shut over the holiday period. I needn’t have worried – we stayed for a week and didn’t get to see everything we wanted to see. That gives us a great excuse to go back some time and catch what we missed – places like the Audubon zoo, aquarium, insectarium, the Cabildo (the Louisiana state museum), the Civil War museum, or activities such as taking a trip on a paddle steamer, doing a swamp tour or a Katrina tour. 

The day after we arrived, we were spoiled for choice for Christmassy activities. Having checked out the French market and treated ourselves to coffee and beignets at the Café du Monde, we then went on a tour of private homes in the French quarter. These are open to the public just once a year, to raise money for the “Patio Planters of the Vieux Carré”, which aims to preserve and beautify the French Quarter. It was very special to see around people’s homes, all decked out in their Christmas finery. Here we got our first taste of how friendly people are in New Orleans. I went round the corner in one home to find the Scotsman ensconced on the sofa, chatting to the home owners. I was quickly invited to join them and after a lovely chat, not only were we invited back any time during our stay but we were instructed to say hi to the chatelaine of a plantation house we were visiting on Christmas Eve, as she was a friend of theirs.

This is something we found throughout our stay – whether visitors or locals, people would hear our Irish and Scottish accents and strike up conversations with us. This is not something we’ve come across in any other big city and it made our stay extra special. After the walking tour we went to the cathedral for a concert and again, hearing our accents, people near us turned around in their seats and started chatting to us. We enjoyed a lovely Christmas concert, including hearing the city’s mayor singing O Holy Night. There followed a period of confusion as we were supposed to go carolling in Jackson Square, immediately outside the cathedral. After a while we worked out that the carolling had been brought indoors due to heavy rain so crowds of people were trying to leave the concert and more crowds were trying to get in. Once we worked out what was going on we headed back to our seats and enjoyed joining in with the carol singing.

I had planned to visit the two museums on either side of the cathedral (the Cabildo and the Presbytère) on Christmas Eve. They should have been open as it wasn’t an official holiday in Louisiana but unfortunately they were closed. So we found other ways to occupy ourselves, including watching some excellent street performances, until it was time to join our pre-booked tour to the San Francisco plantation house. We usually avoid coach/large group tours, but we took this one to experience the Christmas Eve bonfires on the levees, said to light the way for Saint Nicholas.

The plantation house itself was a bit of a disappointment, being so close to oil refineries and the like! However, by hanging back until the end, we ended up getting a tour in a group of eight. As requested, we said hello to the chatelaine of the house, from her friends whom we’d met the day before, and were warmly greeted with a hug as a result. After our tour we scoffed down our Christmas meal and then it was to the buses, which received a police escort to the levees. Here we were greeted by the spectacular sight of bonfire after bonfire all along the levees, set really rather close together. Some of the locals seemed to have a death wish – using kerosene to light some of the bonfires and in one case sliding down the side of the levee at great speed and almost into the path of an oncoming car. There was a great festive spirit about and almost every house facing the levees seemed to be having some kind of house party. If we’d had alcohol with us we’d have been quite tempted to blag our way into one of the them. It was certainly a memorable way to spend Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Day itself we started in a more chilled out fashion with bubbles in bubbles – treating ourselves to a bottle of prosecco while relaxing in the hot tub in the courtyard at the back of our guesthouse. We then meandered through the French quarter, to find a surprising number of people out and about, including a lovely Canadian couple we’d met on the tour the day before (we kept bumping into people from our group of 8 time after time over the next few days). We had a lovely lunch at the very colonial feeling Bombay Club, getting into conversation with a nice Aussie couple at the adjacent table. Then we repaired to Pat O’Brien’s (where else?) to sample both a Hurricane and a Cyclone - very nice they were, too. 

We then switched from bubbles to baubles and headed out by tram to see the spectacular light displays of “Celebration in the Oaks” in City Park. This is a holiday lights festival with more than 165,000 visitors annually. The 25 acres of the park are bedecked with all kinds of light displays, many with special themes such as nursery rhymes or bugs and butterflies. Our firm favourite though was an animated and audio version of the Cajun Night before Christmas, complete with Santa on his sleigh being pulled not by reindeer but by alligators. This was a wonderfully festive way to spend Christmas night.

In addition to Christmassy activities we had plenty to see and do in our week in NOLA. We spent a full day at the National World War II museum and still didn’t manage to see everything we wanted to see. I did, however, have the honour of shaking hands with a 95 year old D Day veteran, who had the misfortune of being parachuted into the wrong location but lived to tell the tale.   You may wonder why an American national museum is located in New Orleans at all, when most national museums are in Washington DC. Well, the answer is simple – the D Day landing craft (also known as Higgins boats or LCVPs) were designed by Andrew Higgins of Higgins Industries and built in New Orleans. General Dwight Eisenhower is quoted as saying:

“Andrew Higgins ... is the man who won the war for us. ... If Higgins had not designed and built those LCVPs, we never could have landed over an open beach. The whole strategy of the war would have been different.”

The museum was originally called the D-Day museum and focused initially on the amphibious invasion of Normandy. It was designated the National World War II museum in 2003. When you arrive the atrium contains not only several aircraft suspended from the ceiling and a Higgins boat to inspect but also a Union Pacific Train Car. After paying for your tickets you board the train and are on your way to war!

We found the museum fascinating, with excellent displays on subjects such as Planning for D Day, the D Day beaches, the Home Front and various “D Day Invasions” in the Pacific (as they were described). I really enjoyed listening to some of the audio accounts of people who had lived through the war – from all sides of the conflict. There is a 4D film called Beyond All Boundaries, narrated by Tom Hanks (who else?), which looks at American involvement in the war. The only disappointment was a slightly underwhelming submarine experience, inspired by the last patrol of the USS Tang. 

We found many other things to enjoy in our week in New Orleans. Highlights included a walking tour in the Garden District and another in one of the cemeteries (there are plenty of tours to choose from), the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, an IMAX film about Hurricane Katrina and the Katrina and Mardi Gras exhibitions in the Presbytère museum. We found the information on Katrina very moving and learned a lot about the appalling way many residents were treated who did not have the wherewithal to evacuate. This included information on the notorious Danziger Bridge shooting which was very much in the news when we were there. One woman became quite distressed as she went around the Presbytère exhibition, as she had lived through Katrina and was calling out things like “they treated us like animals”. Very sobering to think how quickly things can descend into chaos.

While there is lots to see and do in New Orleans, some of the best fun is to be had just by wandering around and sampling the wonderful food, drink and music the city has to offer. 

We’ve tried and can recommend the following:

• Food – coffee and beignets in Café du Monde or Café Beignet (we preferred the former, although it is a real tourist trap it has great atmosphere), dinner at Adolfos, gelato or cakes at Sucre, po’boys and muffalettas, gumbo and creole jambalaya, gator bits and (on the posher end of the scale) Reveillon dinners, available at reduced prices in many of the more upmarket restaurants during the holiday season. Reveillon dinners were apparently inspired by the Creole tradition of having a big family meal in the early hours of Christmas morning, after returning from midnight mass. This was revived in the 1990s and moved to paying locations and a more conventional time of day.
• Drink – Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop on Bourbon Street (allegedly the oldest operating bar in the country), Hurricanes and Cyclones in Pat O’Brien’s (check out the duelling piano show if you can) and the Old New Orleans rum distillery, where the high water mark from Katrina flooding is visible
• Music – in particular we liked what we heard at the Apple Barrel, the Spotted Cat, and Café Negril, which was absolutely hopping with a great bluesy band on Christmas Eve. The buskers outside the cathedral were worth a listen and we got to see a great second line for a wedding at the Hotel Monteleone. We loved the music and vibe of Frenchmen, whereas Bourbon Street at night is like Dublin’s Temple Bar x10, with a less enjoyable atmosphere. Most places on Frenchmen don’t make a cover charge, they just pass a bucket round periodically so you can put a few dollars in. Most places (but not the Spotted Cat) allow you to have “to go” cups, so you can take your drink from bar to bar and just move between music venues as and when the mood takes you.
• Wandering around – the beautiful French quarter of course, but also the elegant Garden District, around Frenchmen and into Faubourg Marigny where we stayed, plus Louis Armstrong park and of course the cemeteries. However do take advice on where is safe to walk. Only a few blocks from our guesthouse was considered dangerous and Philip carefully marked up our map to show us where was safe and unsafe. For example he insisted we take the free shuttle to the rum museum at 2815 Frenchmen in the 9th ward, a distance we would normally have walked.

Summing up: I’m so glad I finally got to New Orleans – and Christmas was the perfect time to visit. Not only were there lots of festive extras to enjoy and the weather was mild with just one wet day but you’re not being ripped off by seasonal price increases, due to the gap left by convention business. Yes, it does have a reputation for being dangerous, but that’s probably true of a lot of big US cities – just follow local advice on where is safe to go. We just loved the vibe of the place and the warm welcome we got from everyone we met. I’ll definitely return some day – maybe next time for Mardi Gras!

First published in VISA 128 (August 2016)

Hip, Hip, Hawaii

By Tess Kamara

Life couldn’t get any better than this, I reflected, as we sat in a café in Waikiki, downtown Honolulu, drinking Mai Tais and watching the sun go down. I’d always dreamed of going to Hawaii but it remained a fantasy until a round of redundancies at work made me realise that time is short and I’d better get my skates on while I was still employed. My travelling companion Elizabeth and I saved hard and now, here we were. In fact the trip was surprisingly affordable; we travelled with Page and Moy and stayed in a local self-catering Ohana hotel. The ubiquitous Ohana chain is very popular with Americans who come over for weddings and graduation parties, or to visit relatives serving in the Pacific Fleet. Relatively cheap by Hawaiian standards, the self-catering rooms have a kitchenette with fridge, hob and microwave. Honolulu has ABC mini supermarkets on every corner, the equivalent of a 711 or Budgens, where you can pick up fresh food quite cheaply. The only thing to beware of is their ATMs; I thought I was being careful taking out small amounts every day, until I checked the small print and realised I was being charged $2.50 per transaction.

Prior to leaving I had tried to make contact with Mensa Hawaii to pick up some travel tips but at the time the website consisted of nothing more than a photograph of paradise with a caption of something like “Check back in on this work in progress. Gone surfing”. Elizabeth had more luck – through her church links we met up with a very hospitable family, who took us to Pearl Harbour and even invited us home for dinner.

Most fantasies turn out to be just that, but Hawaii doesn’t disappoint; it really is the paradise you imagine it to be. The wide avenues are lined with palm trees, the skies are clear blue and the sunshine is constant. We were told that on the rare occasion it rained, kids would run outside for the novelty of getting wet. The air is fragrant with the scent of wonderfully named flowers; bougainvillea, tiaré, plumeria, heliconia, hibiscus, white ginger. Brightly coloured zebra finches scratch around everywhere like exotic sparrows. The seas are crystalline and the beaches exceptional; pebble free, with soft white sand. All the beaches are public which means the posh waterfront hotels can’t cordon off their section. You can walk along them unhindered for miles, but you’ll need shoes as the sand is scorching underfoot by noon.

On our first full day we took a bus tour of Oahu, to get an overview of the island and note which places to check out further. If you take a bus trip in Hawaii, always bring a jacket; you may be sweltering outside but the buses are air-conditioned to the point of refrigeration. Our driver and guide was a young man from Connecticut who styled himself Cap’n Rob and who had come to Hawaii on holiday and fallen in love with the place. He was an enthusiastic fund of information which he sprinkled with cheeky anecdotes; he told us whenever he met an attractive girl he would claim to be native Hawaiian and say his name was Irili Wanalaya. All the coaches were equipped with a movie screen but it seems the only film they ever played was Blue Hawaii, starring Elvis as a poor boy in love with his rich employer’s daughter. As the film is ninety minutes long and it only takes an hour to get round Oahu, we kept getting turfed off the bus two thirds of the way through the film. We saw the same unfinished movie three or four times during the holiday but we could still sleep at night knowing that Elvis always gets the girl.

The first stop was Diamond Head, where you can walk up the inside of an extinct volcano from the inside in pitch darkness, and emerge at the top to a panoramic view of the whole chain of islands. Fortunately we had no time to test this out as we were off to Sea World where you can observe dolphins, sharks, turtles, sea lions and other marine life. It does have a certain educational value but I can’t help feeling uneasy at seeing these magnificent creatures in captivity when they should have the world’s oceans at their disposal. We headed north past the Polynesian Cultural Centre, which showcases seven different island races – Fijian, Hawaiian, Marquesan, Samoan, Tahitian, Tongan and Maori. We earmarked this stop for another day and then it was off to the Bodo cemetery and temple, a Japanese Buddhist burial ground.

Buddhists are more practical than reverential about death; there were no gravestones, just small plaques to mark the family plot and little metal canisters to put flowers in. In keeping with the minimalist style there would be just one or two buds or blossoms in each canister. A small moat ran round the whole site, filled with koi carp to represent good fortune. Cap’n Rob told us that on weekends it was usual for Japanese families to come up and have a picnic round the grave, setting out food for the deceased as was the Buddhist custom. It was not unheard for graves to be decorated, not with flowers, but with a beer and a sandwich. In keeping with Buddhist pragmatism, these would be consumed later by homeless people.

We made a stop-off for lunch at a restaurant attached to a golf course. The sport must be hugely popular because there were courses everywhere, so beautifully maintained that the grass didn’t look real, although Rob assured us it was. We finished the trip with a visit to the Dole pineapple factory. Like many working businesses, this has a side-line as a tourist attraction. You hop on the Pineapple Express and are driven round the plantation as a guide tells you the history of the pineapple in Hawaii. It is one of the state’s most important exports, along with macadamia nuts and coffee.

Honolulu is home to a fascinating mix of cultures. The tourist hotels are concentrated in a few miles along Waikiki beach, about twenty minutes’ drive from the airport and half an hour from Pearl Harbour. Within that area you see mainly Americans, Europeans and Japanese, but venture out of the tourist zone and you’ll find different pockets of ethnic populations – other Polynesian groups such as Samoans and Tahitians, as well as Chinese, Japanese, Indians and Filipinos. Very few people can claim to have 100 percent Hawaiian blood and many “true Hawaiians” are descended from Captain Cook’s sailors and their Polynesian wives. The word “Ohana” refers to the Hawaiian concept of extended family. Strangers are referred to as “cousin” (very handy if you forget someone’s name), then as they know you better they will refer to you as “brother” or “sister”. I suspect if we went back we would be known as “auntie”. Of course there were surfers of all nationalities everywhere; it seems as if half the population is walking around in long shorts with a surfboard under the arm. Hawaiian children look as though they were born to live in the ocean. You can see them everywhere, out at sea basking on promontories or diving like seals.

The Ramos family kindly invited us to lunch at their house in Aiea, a smart suburb of Honolulu, then drove us out to Pearl Harbour. The memorial is a poignant reminder of when 1400 sailors lost their lives when the USS Arizona was sunk in a Japanese attack in 1944. The monument itself is built on a platform directly above the ship, with viewing panels so you can look down at the remains of the watery grave. In the visitor centre you can pay your respects at a shrine to the deceased and watch a film narrating the events that culminated in the sinking of the ship. The narration is diplomatically worded to avoid causing offence to modern Japanese visitors.

Japanese tourists come to Hawaii in droves and can be seen mainly in the expensive shops or the exquisitely manicured golf courses dotted round the island. Shopping has been raised to an art form in Honolulu. They have everything from rows of stalls selling cheap tat to cavernous malls housing the world’s most expensive boutiques – Vuitton, Ferragamo, Macy’s and Chanel for starters. In the gigantic Royal Hawaiian Shopping Centre we trawled through three floors across four blocks looking for presents until we had to get out due to sensory overload. A better bet was the Ala Moana Center, a couple of miles away on the free shuttlebus or wiki-wiki. As well as the more expensive outlets there were reasonably priced chains like The Gap and Sears, lots of street entertainment and best of all, a food mall frequented by locals where you could get cheap noodles, curry, seafood specials and so on.

The food courts are huge and it seems that people eat out all the time. In the evening, outdoor restaurants were packed and there was often music and dancing laid on. As you would expect much of the food is Asian, with a strong leaning towards Japanese. We tended to favour Korean as it is a cuisine you don’t see much of at home and I became very fond of kimchi, a pickled spiced cabbage you can find in Asian supermarkets in the UK. One of the things that tickled me about the Hawaiian diet is their absolute love of Spam, a throwback from World War II when the Americans brought it over. While tourists flock to the food malls, locals get their snacks from “hole in the wall” cafés selling Spam fritters, Spam and eggs, fried Spam with taro chips, and even Spam sushi. They even send themselves up about it: we saw tourist ads welcoming you to the “land of Spam” and showing a happy smiling Hawaiian family in flowered shirts, gazing in delight at a tin of the stuff as though it were a winning lottery ticket.

We spent our final free day at the Polynesian Cultural Centre on the North Shore. The North Shore itself is pretty spectacular, especially in winter when the temperature drops as low as seventy degrees and the waves get up to fifty feet. It attracts diehard surfers from all over the world who have unofficial competitions rather like raves – they’re not publicised but word gets out when the waves are right. The area is home to giant green turtles that come ashore to rest and bask in the sun. It’s not unusual to see a turtle lying inert a few feet away from sunbathers. We took pictures but it’s illegal to touch them – interfering with wildlife carries a fine or possible prison sentence.

The Polynesian Cultural Centre consists of seven reproduced Polynesian villages dotted about a lake, populated by locals in national costume who demonstrate their culture’s distinct arts and crafts. The villagers are actually students from the nearby Brigham Young University, who come from all over the Pacific islands and pay their way by putting in hours at the Centre. Visitors make their way around the villages experiencing different displays and presentations. I was particularly taken by the New Zealander showing us how to do a haka; with his blonde hair he looked about as Maori as Wills and Harry. There was also a Samoan with very impressive linguistic skills. He was giving a talk on Samoan history in perfect English when a German asked him to re-word something as he hadn’t understood. The Samoan man replied in German, then a French woman asked him something and he responded in French. It became a game, with the audience throwing questions at him in different languages without catching him out once.

Tattooing originated in Polynesia and I took the opportunity to acquire an ornate temporary “tattoo” although I didn’t say to the massive Tongan who put it on that he was actually applying a stencil. In the afternoon there was a pageant on the lake consisting of a parade of boats and rafts carrying dancers and musicians from the various cultures. The dance and costumes highlighted the fact that many island cultures are quite individual and distinct from each other. Hawaiian dance, for example, is quite slow and graceful in keeping with the tall, stately stature of the original inhabitants. The hip-shaking “hula” you see in the movies is actually Tahitian. When darkness descended we went to an outdoor theatre for a dinner and show. After a huge meal and an enjoyable musical evening, we came away experts on the subtle differences between the Fijian sarong and the Samoan pareo.

You can’t leave Hawaii without visiting the Hilo Hattie gift shop, named after a famous Hawaiian singer, actress and all-round national treasure. This huge emporium sells every type of Hawaiian themed gift from flowered shirts to grass skirts to sweets like chocolate covered macadamia nuts. After getting presents for everyone, I bought myself some tiaré perfume in the hope that I could bring home something of the wonderful fragrance of this beautiful island.

First published in VISA 116 (August 2014)

Return to New York

by Eunice Kirby

A visit to New York in the aftermath of 911

After a protracted time checking in to our hotel, we eventually got settled and set off for a walk along Seventh Avenue, reaching Central Park and The Lincoln Centre, before coming back along Broadway, via Times Square and Manhattan Mall for something to eat before having an early night to try and get used to the five hour time difference.

Sunday morning we had arranged to meet in the hotel coffee shop - freshly squeezed orange juice - wonderful, then we all set off for a diner in Herald Square for breakfast and to plan our day. We decided that as it was a nice day weather wise, we would head for Central Park. Last time, we had taken a horse and carriage ride round some of the park and said that we would like to see more of it, so off we went. We soon realised that there is a lot more of Central Park than most people realise; we spent most of the day just wandering round and only saw half of it. Three of us (the female three) went on the old wooden carousel, which boasts the largest wooden horses still in use - and seat belts! We wandered through the park, via The Dairy - now an information centre, then on to watch the skaters.

We then went in the Zoo which was renovated in the 1980s and is now divided into three zones, polar, temperate and tropic. We arrived just in time to watch the seals being fed and put through their routine, which is as much to check their health and wellbeing as it is to entertain and educate the visitors. The highlight of the polar region for me was the polar bears; their enclosure includes a plunge pool with glass sides, so that the visitor can not only watch them swimming under water, but also stand next to the glass and marvel at their size! The tropical enclosure is all inside and when looking at the various plants you wonder just how much wildlife you are not seeing. So many things are well camouflaged and we were all pointing things out to each other that we had not spotted ourselves. After a quick lunch in The Leaping Frog Cafe, we then visited the Children's Zoo (well, we are all children at heart) and enjoyed the chance to feed and pat the various cuddly creatures on show. We carried on with our walk taking in many lakes and wonderful views - many of the trees were still in full autumn foliage and looked lovely reflected in the lakes.

We saw the statues of Hans Christian Anderson and Alice in Wonderland, before heading for Strawberry Fields, the memorial to the late John Lennon. It was only a couple of days after the death of George Harrison so the memorial could not be seen for all the flowers and tributes to George. There were hundreds of people there paying their respects and a group of singers singing old Beatles songs; all in all it was very moving and I am glad to have been part of it although it does mean that I have not yet seen the memorial, oh well, we shall just have to visit New York again sometime. We then left the park and crossed over the road to look at The Dakota Building - identified by the guard on duty by his sentry box, with Dakota on his uniform. By this time we were all quite tired so we got the subway back to Penn Station - opposite our hotel, to have a rest and freshen up before heading off to Times Square and 42nd Street for something to eat, then back to the hotel via a few shops including Macy's.

Monday morning and Steve's birthday! After he had opened the cards and few small presents that I had brought with us, we went off to the same diner for breakfast, then caught the subway to Wall Street. We came up the escalators from the subway into the station building and you would have thought that you were in the lobby of a very expensive hotel! We all just looked and admired before heading out onto the street and walking down to South Street Seaport. We saw the second biggest sailing ship ever built - The Peking, the floating lighthouse, Ambrose and took in the views of The Brooklyn Bridge before sitting outside in the sun to partake of a beer. By this time, it was so warm all coats had been abandoned and those who were not wearing short sleeves were regretting it and planning to buy T shirts at the first opportunity - we had packed jumpers and fleeces expecting it to be cold! We spent a happy hour or so wandering round the shopping mall that is located in Pier 17 Pavilion, an assortment of shops on three levels, all with charming wooden decks outside offering views across to Brooklyn and also of the Statue of Liberty.

We left Pier 17 and walked along the waterfront to the ferry terminal for the Staten Island Ferry and boarded the next ferry. This has to be the best bargain in NYC. The ferry gives wonderful views of the Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge and of course the city skyline and all for free. The best time to take the ferry is evening when you can see the city all lit up, but it is just as breathtaking on a sunny day. We did not spend much time on the island, just took a short walk from the ferry to look back across to the city, then we got another ferry back to the mainland and stopped in Starbucks for coffee and cakes.

We did not set out to visit Ground Zero but, as we were so close, we went to pay our respects. It is in this area that the city is much quieter, there are prayer stations along the way, and people who are there just to talk and help in any way. We stood in silence as we viewed the remains of the Towers, and I am not ashamed to say that tears were shed. We did not linger, but caught the subway to Grand Central Station where we split up. Steve and I watched the Christmas laser show that lit up the ceiling of the station, then wandered round both the craft market and the food market before leaving the station building and making our way back to the hotel along 42nd Street, shopping along the way. We met up with the others for a meal at Broadway Joe's Steakhouse, steaks like you would not believe (fond memories of our last visit made us go again) We did not have room for dessert so we walked back towards our hotel and stopped for a couple of drinks before turning in.

Tuesday morning: after our usual large breakfast, we caught the subway to Grand Central Station and then went inside the Chrysler Building just to look and admire the marble and chrome lobby. From here we walked down to the United Nations Headquarters - you can tell from the buildings, the water features and landscaping that this is a very affluent area. We carried on along 11th Avenue to the Roosevelt Aerial Tramway, but it was being repaired/restored so was not running. We headed back inland and 'came across' Bloomingdales, where we stopped for coffee and to stock up on their wonderful chocolate dipped mint sticks.

We admired all the Christmas decorations both in the store and in the window displays before heading off for the Citicorp Building where a model railway took up most of the lower level, we lost two of the men for a while so the rest of us looked round the shops - mostly a Barnes and Noble Bookstore, then found seats to sit and rest with more fresh orange juice. Once we had managed to get them away from the trains, we made our way to The Rockefeller Centre to watch the skaters. This is another typical New York Christmas scene, but there was something missing this time - we arrived while they were polishing the ice so there were no skaters. By now, we were all getting hungry so we went to Jekyll and Hydes for an entertaining meal. Anyone who has ever been to one of the Jekyll and Hyde restaurants will know what I mean; the statues talk to you, the pictures have eyes that move, the staff are all in character and the entertainment is almost non-stop. It is an experience to enjoy - oh, and the food is not bad either.

On our way back to the hotel we took the ride up to the top of the Empire State Building, this is the best time of day to go up, as you can see the city in daylight and watch as night descends and the city lights up. One thing that was more obvious to us all this time was the number of planes that we could see at any one time, usually well over a dozen, of varying sizes - it made us feel very vulnerable. It was from here that the absence of the Twin Towers was most obvious; the work on the site is going on twenty four hours a day and you can see a large black area with a circle of lights around it that seems to send a ghostly glow into the sky. We spent the rest of evening just wandering round some of the shops and buying souvenirs and Christmas presents before finishing up in an Irish bar.

The next morning we caught the subway with my sister and her husband to Greenwich Village where the first stop was a diner for breakfast - it was called Tiffany's, so we can say that we had breakfast at Tiffany's! (My niece and her boyfriend went off to spend the day in The Natural History Museum.) We walked through Washington Square, then made our way through Soho to Chinatown and Little Italy. At one point, we were at a street corner and looking at our maps, deciding which way to go, when a lady asked if we were tourists. When we said "yes", she just said, "Thank you for coming to New York". Visitors are still wanted and made to feel very welcome.

Thursday morning and we all met up for our usual breakfast. The three men and my niece went off to spend the day at the Intrepid Museum; my sister and I did not fancy spending a day on an aircraft carrier so we went shopping. We spent most of the day in Macy's but managed a few other shops too and I finished off all my Christmas shopping, which I had hoped to do. I had been checking on the Internet what shows would be on while we were in New York and when we saw that A Christmas Carol was on at Madison Square Garden, we all said that we would like to see it, so I booked the tickets direct with The Garden ticket office and Veronica and I collected them that morning before we hit the shops. The entrance hall to the theatre was done out as an old village, complete with shops and stalls selling refreshments and souvenirs all to do with the show, with all the staff in costume and carol singers to entertain us - it was all lovely and really festive. The show itself was wonderful; it was not only on the stage but also along both sides of the auditorium, so at times you did not know where to look. All in all, it was a very enjoyable evening.

Friday morning, our last full day. We all had breakfast then set off on the subway to Brooklyn Bridge and spent a very pleasant hour strolling over the bridge which has wonderful views of the city skyline, and is a marvellous sight in its own right with its twin gothic towers and many miles of cable. The walkway is along the centre of the bridge, above the traffic which thunders along beneath your feet. We spent some time wandering along Brooklyn Heights Promenade, at one point there is a framed photograph of the city skyline taken from that spot pre-September 11, showing the twin towers. The photograph is surrounded by flowers. It makes you wonder what the people who were standing there at the time of the attack saw and felt. I found myself looking at people's faces, and wondering just what they had been through and what stories they could tell. I felt very emotional standing there because it was so much more obvious here just what was missing.

We left the shoreline and headed into Brooklyn itself - a lovely place that I would like to spend more time in on another visit but we were on our way to Coney Island. This involved a long subway ride, a short ride on a bus then back onto the subway and when we got there it was shut! There was a notice to say that it had shut down early as a mark of respect to those who had lost their lives. It was nice just to look at the place - it probably looks better when it is open and there are hundreds of people there, and walk along the boardwalk and even venture onto the beach. We went into Nathan's for one of their 'world famous' hot dogs, this is the place where they were supposed to have been invented. We then caught the subway back to Times Square where we split up again, after some more shopping we returned to the hotel where I managed to pack everything ready to come home. We met up with the others for a meal in TGI Fridays in Time Square - the largest one in the USA Then we walked back via The Blarney Stone for a night-cap - you can rely on finding a good Irish pub almost anywhere these days.

Saturday morning and I popped down to the hotel coffee shop for two fresh orange juices and two Danish pastries, I could not face another enormous breakfast and we were not due to meet up with the others until lunchtime, so we could all finish our packing and have a couple of hours doing our own thing. Steve and I wandered down 5th Avenue to admire the windows again. I had not realised that all the Christmas windows in the big stores are done by the same company. I had supposed that each store did their own but no, one company does them all and the planning, designing and constructing takes them all year.

As we were walking back to the hotel, I noticed people going in and out of Trump Tower and saw a list of shops - very discreetly displayed on the wall. I asked the doorman if we could go in, and after checking our bags we entered the lobby and our chins hit the floor! The entire place was built of pink marble, glass and brass, with real trees lining the entrance hall which leads down to the atrium, the end wall of which, consists of a three storey waterfall cascading into a lower courtyard. We did not go in any of the shops (Cartier, Galeries Lafayette and such like) but we did go up to the fifth floor where there is a restaurant and roof gardens, unfortunately shut in winter. We had seen the trees growing on the terraces from the third to the eighth floors from the other side of 5th Avenue, but did not realise that they were open to the public, another reason to return to this city.

We are all glad that we went to this wonderful city and I for one shall return. Maybe we would not have gone had it not been booked well before 11 September, who knows, but I am very glad that we did not cancel like most people expected us to. The city welcomes visitors, yes there is a lot of sadness, all the fire stations that you pass have black and purple drapes and photographs of their lost colleagues on show. Our hotel was full of State Troopers and other volunteer workers; in the lobby there was a large Christmas Tree and an empty cot when we arrived, with a sign asking for toys for the children of NYPD and FDNY who had lost their fathers. By the time we left, there were four full cots, and yes, we had added to them. New York is not going to forget what has happened to it, postcards showing the destruction are on sale, as well as some with before and after photographs. There are books on the history of the twin towers, showing how they were built and how they were destroyed - all proceeds from sales going to charity. The stars and stripes fly from every available building and car aerial; the dreadful events have united the people of New York. They care more now and are not so self-orientated.

So, my advice to anyone who was thinking of going to New York, is GO. It is still a wonderful city, there is so much to see and do, buy a week long subway ticket and get around as much as you can and see everything. There are still lots of things that I would like to go back and see so we shall return again in a few years time, perhaps one Spring, to see the city at a different time of year. While we were there, both the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island were still closed, but I think everything else has now reopened, including the helicopter trips. We were lucky enough to go up the Statue of Liberty and take a helicopter trip last time we came, but we had hoped to visit Ellis Island this trip - one day perhaps. A week may seem a long time for a city break, but this is a city that needs at least a week to get to know it. This was my second visit and I still have not seen and done everything that I would like to.

First published in VISA issue 45 (Spring 2002)