Photo: helendining.blogspot.co.uk, More butter! More syrup! |
Also familiar, is ale. New York has a plentiful supply of it. At a Time Square bar I use some spare time between eating one thing, and eating another thing to sample five or six halves of the local brews.
Come the afternoon, I´m finding that I can´t just stroll into a hostel and setup shop, South America-style. Everything is booked and I´m thinking that I´ll be following Tom Hanks footsteps once again, this time by sleeping in La Guardia. So long as you have a bag and look like a tourist, no one asks any questions.
With the help of a delightful pair of gays on the concierge desk at last night´s hotel, I find myself at a bargain fifty dollar hotel in China Town. As I pull open the door of my room, the comedy value of the scene could only be bettered by replacing me with the late and great John Candy. The room is a windowless cupboard, no bigger than the space under the stairs, where a vacuum cleaner and various unwanted goods and odd bags might live. The walls are little more than plasterboard and door opens outwards because the width of bed, which is also the full length of the room, would prevent it opening inwards. But, it´s more comfortable than La Guardia, and boasts location central to China Town and adjacent to Little Italy.
Waking up at 2300h, after one of my classic three hour power naps, there´s just enough time to visit Doyer St., possibly the only NY street that Schwarzenegger filmed on, and to score a healthy plate of Chinese BBQ pork, washed down with a Yoohoo.
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