Does it matter that I enjoy doing things alone? This was a question that I started thinking about today. I’d just had a lovely lunch with some new friends. I’ve been living in Toronto for six weeks now and although I’ve met some lovely people I sometimes would rather do things alone rather than have someone with me just for the sake of it. 

I know few people who would choose to go alone to the cinema and yet when I spent a few days in New York City a couple of years ago I found it so gratifying. No-one to question what I wanted to see. In fact I barely made any plans and strolled in off the streets and into the ‘Paris’ cinema. They only show one film so there wasn’t any choice but I almost didn’t care what they were going to show. It was just being there in New York and doing something because I felt like it. Afterwards I remember it being around 10 o’clock at night. The streets were still wet after a long downpour but now it was calm and the balmy August night had that intoxicating smell of rain. Fifth Avenue was quiet. Only the lights in the shop windows lit the street. It was walking along down the half deserted street that I felt like I was home. New York is my place and whenever I visit it feels like I’m welcomed back. I walk down the streets smiling up and breathing in the city.

Being alone I can fully take it in. Some people don’t get that feeling in New York, it might be their real home town or somewhere else entirely. However I couldn’t have had that experience with someone else. You meet many more people when you’re alone. Strangers have a habit of approaching you, either to ask the time or maybe just to say something, anything. 

I love being with people. I have the most incredible friends who I could tell everything to. I would go far out of my way to see them for the briefest of moments. But now I’m here in this city I feel like I want to have my own experience - I want to divert from the well heeled path of being a tourist. When you walk down a street alone you take the time to notice things - the smells, the queues outside some tiny shop that indicate it’s the good place to go. I want to have a time that I’ll never forget but it doesn’t mean it will be the same experience as all the other exchange students. When they ask me did you go up the CN Tower? Or have you been to the Algonquin Park? I’ll just reply with “No I didn’t…but I found a fabulous coffee shop that does the most intense and smooth espresso and this tiny little Burrito bar which you have to know about to find.” To know a city I have to find my own rhythm. To really say that I’ve lived somewhere I need to find the point where I leave the guide book at home and explore it on my own.

I only discovered how wonderful New York is two years ago. Last year I had the best time exploring the city with one of my friends Natasha who I’d just met while working at an American camp in Maine over the Summer.We hid from the rain in little diners eating fries and drinking milkshakes. We walked everywhere and even though I spent only 3 nights in the city they were the best days of my summer. I can’t wait to go back and hopefully will live there sometime in the future. New York, I’ll be seeing you. 

My Trip:

Stayed at: The Pod Hotel.  http://www.thepodhotel.com/

Ate at: Neil’s Diner on the corner of Lexington and 70th st.

Relaxed at: The Paris Theatre (Cinema), round the corner from the Plaza Hotel.

Shopped at: Bloomingdales, Whole Foods Market, Victoria’s Secret, GAP, American Eagle Outfitters, various Vintage stores and M&M’s World.

Visited: NYC Public Library, Union Square, Magnolia Bakery, Central Park, plus a host of locations on the Sex & The City Tour.

Sorry there was no post yesterday! Had no chance to do one and I was feeling uninspired anyway. In case you haven’t read my previous posts I am challenging myself to write a short piece of fiction starting from a famous first sentence. And I stop after twenty minutes. So here’s today’s attempt using the first lines from Middle Passage by Charles Johnson.

Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I’ve come to learn, is women. However for me it was not so much women but the lack of women in my life. Having spent my youth on the Greek island of Santorini, it was expected that I would marry one of the local girls from the town. I had had a few girlfriends over the years but after I turned eighteen the interest in me seemed to die down. In fact it was stone cold dead. As the tourist industry waned, the small family businesses suffered and so many relocated to Athens and Patras, and the daughters followed. I put my energy into working hard in the harbour. I spent many hours sitting in my boat, the ‘eleutheria’, with my best friend Christos while we fished for salmon that we could the sell to nearby restaurants. But as the years went by I become a lonely man and by 27 I decided things needed to change. I was sad to leave Santorini, the island where six generations of the ­­­­­Anastas family had lived and died. I didn’t know where I would go but I knew I would miss the white washed walls contrasted against the dazzling azure sea.  I packed up my things into a small canvas bag and headed to my boat. I had stocked up on a few essentials, some wine, and a variety of vegetables that I could eat with whatever fish I caught on my travels. Though it would be a lonely life for a while I couldn’t contain my excitement. Somewhere out there was a future for me. There was no time to hesitate. After kissing my mother and shaking my father’s hand goodbye I left the dock and headed out. The white walls faded into the distance till I could see nothing but sea and the sun.