I love New York. I know it is not particularly original, but I do. My first encounter with New York, twenty-five years ago, was a surprise. I grew up with the image of NY as "stone jungle", as a city full of crime and avarice. Four years after I had moved to Sweden I still carried this image. And then I fell in love at first sight.
For those who have been to NY I don't have to describe it. For those who have only seen it in numerous movies - use your imagination. Before I came to NY I thought its extreme verticality would be oppressive. I hadn't known about the open vistas.
I've "done" NY several times, last time ten years ago with Anton and Julia, when it rained all week. I have a picture of them on top of WTC.
This time I am in NY en route to Roanoke, Virginia. Anton is in NY en route home from San Diego. I don't remember now whose idea it was that we should get together in New York.
I really and truly cannot understand why I love New York, when I otherwise love nature and hate crowds. Anton says that he is on holiday and doesn't want to make plans. We wander around without plans. We go to MOMA, and I make a discovery. I am sure I have seen it before, "One and three chairs". We go to the Museum of Natural History and realise that we had been there, but forgotten. It comes back vividly in the space center. We go to the WTC site and the little memorial museum. We stand in line at TKTS and go to see a show. We walk down High Line, a most fabulous urban solution I can imagine. I would have never discovered it on my own, but I have such a clever son, who also knows what fascinates me.
In the mornings, when he is still asleep, I go to the nearest Starbucks for my coffee and bagel with cream cheese, watching new yorkers hurry past the window. New York! Will I ever see you again?