A Day of Charm and Culture in NYC
The Trundler’s constant companion sometimes takes her by surprise. Patiently he listened to her moan about her aching feet as they traipsed the streets. Patiently he guided her on a trail of art, arches and achievement culminating in a plate of one of her favourite foods, eaten in a majestic setting.
First they walked along the wondrous High Line, taking in the views and dodging the infuriating selfie sticks of other tourists. Then they visited the Art District and a stream of excellent galleries where they saw everything from Ron Arad’s squashed cars to moving photographs of the Selma civil rights march.
The city was still partly covered with thick snow after a gruelling winter, but Spring was emerging, magically melting the ice as if Aslan had arrived in Narnia. The Trundler and her companion went in search of Sorolla’s paintings in Washington Heights , then headed back down into the heart of Manhatten, where they walked in Central Park at sunset.
The Trundler was beginning to feel despair at this point, despite her enchantment at the sheer shimmer of this most sparkling of cities. Her companion calmly assured her that a treat was in store so she plodded on, trying not to wince at the pain in her feet.
To her delight, she found herself in the Oyster Bar of Grand Central Station, where the extraordinary tiled, vaulted arches are the work of Valenciano architect Rafael Guastavino. Home from adopted home indeed. The Trundler beamed and hugged her companion with joy. Then together they sat and ate a pile of oysters feeling very happy indeed.
How could you not love this city or indeed this man?