I miss London. I miss knowing where I am; I miss feeling like I know what my next three moves will be rather than shuffling my bewildered pawn reactively round this strange city. Today we met the agent who will find us somewhere to live in Manhattan. Maybe Chelsea, maybe the West Village or maybe the Upper West Side; wherever it will be it will cost a fortune.
Still, we made some significant progress today by working out how to use the subway with the buggy. The trick I learned on-line was to go through the turnstile and then push the gate open from the other side. An alarm will sound. Ignore this, no-one will pay it any attention and this is considered reasonable and acceptable behaviour. This is a major success.
It's New Years Eve so time to reflect.
We have been together nine years. In the beginning it was very different. We were staying first in Herne Hill and then Streatham. We lived out of one room with no opportunity for any time alone. South London trains are none too convenient and I often preferred to take the early train, getting out at City Thameslink and walking to Bishopsgate. I often passed through St Pauls at six in the morning pondering our situation. J was temping so work was uncertain and I was on a one-year contract at ABN with no guarantee that it would be extended. We were of course still in a fortunate position but it didn't feel like it and everything seemed fragile.
Yet nine years later I was again walking through St Pauls on the way to work. This time we were living there in the corporate apartment awaiting this big move. Now we are here we are once again likely to be living in a very tight space, this time not alone but with our daughter and dog.
My favourite song about London is Waterloo Sunrise. It conveys a real sense of the physical place; the dirty old river and the swarming hordes through Waterloo underground. Lately though I had taken the role of the narrator, content not to go out wandering but to observe the sunset.
New York gives me a different role - I am now in the bright lights, feeling a little dizzy to be sure but feeling excited.
2011 does not look to be a promising year for many people. There are a lot of uncertainties and insecurities, particularly for work life and its knock-on effects. Everything has to be paid for eventually and the teenagers applying to university next year are understandably aghast at being handed the bill by a generation that grew up with no fees, full grants and secure employment.
I have a hope, a Micawberish hope perhaps, that something better will turn up. The future is an undiscovered country and only time will tell what we find.
As I gaze on New York sunset and I consider my family, my good fortune, I am in paradise.
Friday 31 December 2010
Wednesday 29 December 2010
The Day After
I wasn't sure how Pip and I were going to go on a walk the morning after the blizzard. The streets were full of snow many inches deep. However, people were out clearing the snow and it seemed the place was pretty well prepared with each building having its own little motorised snow clearer (something akin to a lawnmover). There was a narrow path on our route so we managed to complete the circuit.
All of Harriet's toys are being shipped by sea so we don't have very much for her. We decided a top priority was to get to a toy store and find something so we set out. We took the subway for the first time (folding the pram to get through the gates). The platform was packed and the announcements told a tale of woe that is familiar to any London tube user with lines cancelled and long delays promised. Still, the E train eventually showed up and we headed across town and south to Penn station.
When we arrived above ground it was as cold as anything I have ever experienced. The wind smashed repeatedly into us and every extremity felt the chill. We struggled down one block to the Toys-R-Us on 7th Avenue and dived in desperate for shelter. My fingers, previously chilled, now were aflame as they started to thaw out.
We have bought another child carrier because it is probably the only way J can use the subway by himself. The very good one we have will be heading out by sea but is no use to us now. We bought Harriet a colourful vacuum cleaner that was just perfect for her and picked out a few more toys that would have to wait for another day when we had more hands free. We headed home exhausted.
We finally got boots in the afternoon and were congratulated by the shop assistants for getting the last ones in the shop. It felt brilliant to leave the shop with the new footwear on and we could now easily climb the mounds of snow and wade through the slush with abandon. The biggest problem with the snow now is that it has been moved to the edge of the roads and so it is not always easy for pedestrians to cross. But that is no problem for those with landrover shoes.
The following day we went to Central Park. All of us are now equipped with snow boots and could stomp around safely. The snow is being shifted in the most remarkable fashion - on second avenue JCBs are scooping it up and piling it into trucks. The news still looks like home though - people in areas complaining that the ploughs ignored their boroughs and passengers with tales of woe including one poor sod who had got stuck in London and then got stuck in JFK for his onward flight to the Bahamas.
Gradually this is all becoming more normal.
All of Harriet's toys are being shipped by sea so we don't have very much for her. We decided a top priority was to get to a toy store and find something so we set out. We took the subway for the first time (folding the pram to get through the gates). The platform was packed and the announcements told a tale of woe that is familiar to any London tube user with lines cancelled and long delays promised. Still, the E train eventually showed up and we headed across town and south to Penn station.
When we arrived above ground it was as cold as anything I have ever experienced. The wind smashed repeatedly into us and every extremity felt the chill. We struggled down one block to the Toys-R-Us on 7th Avenue and dived in desperate for shelter. My fingers, previously chilled, now were aflame as they started to thaw out.
We have bought another child carrier because it is probably the only way J can use the subway by himself. The very good one we have will be heading out by sea but is no use to us now. We bought Harriet a colourful vacuum cleaner that was just perfect for her and picked out a few more toys that would have to wait for another day when we had more hands free. We headed home exhausted.
We finally got boots in the afternoon and were congratulated by the shop assistants for getting the last ones in the shop. It felt brilliant to leave the shop with the new footwear on and we could now easily climb the mounds of snow and wade through the slush with abandon. The biggest problem with the snow now is that it has been moved to the edge of the roads and so it is not always easy for pedestrians to cross. But that is no problem for those with landrover shoes.
The following day we went to Central Park. All of us are now equipped with snow boots and could stomp around safely. The snow is being shifted in the most remarkable fashion - on second avenue JCBs are scooping it up and piling it into trucks. The news still looks like home though - people in areas complaining that the ploughs ignored their boroughs and passengers with tales of woe including one poor sod who had got stuck in London and then got stuck in JFK for his onward flight to the Bahamas.
Gradually this is all becoming more normal.
Tuesday 28 December 2010
The Boxing Day Hunt and Subsequent Blizzard
I have lived so long in one city and become so familiar with it that it has been a shock transitioning to New York. Whereas in London I understand all the transport, know how the areas connect together and have a general feel for the rythmn of the place, here I am almost literally lost.
On Boxing Day we had to pick up a few things but it was a nightmare. A dog coat for Pip was an essential but none was to be had in Bloomingdales. Then we went looking for toys but couldn't find anything suitable either. So back to the apartment to research on-line and then we headed off to Macy's. Oh for the accessible gates of the London Underground - the New York subway seems to have nothing except a few disabled gates that you require a special card to access. So we walked.
Actually, it's not really possible to get lost in Midtown because the grid system is easy enough to follow but still it's hard to know where you are in all the other senses. The shops were just packed and the store guides are frankly appalling - ok so I want to be in the seventh avenue building, just where on earth is that? Am I supposed to have a built in compass???
Macy's looked like Primark in Leytonstone - all the merchandise was scattered on the floor as the locusts swarmed over the shop looking to consume. We needed a new jacket for J and boots for Harriet because we had heard a storm was coming later that day.
We got the boots and the jacket eventually and headed back home. It had been snowing on the way here - gentle flakes that made the place look very pretty. On the return journey it was becoming much more serious and no matter which direction we walked we always seemed to be walking into the wind. It was becoming bitterly cold and we still had no dog coat for Pip.
By 4pm we had managed to get home and I got a dog coat from a local store. It was the wrong size so back I trudged to get the next size. The road surfaces had begun to disappear and visibility was a few nose lengths and not much more. Cars were getting into real difficulty and a few had been abandoned already. I got back and headed out with Pip who at least had the good sense to realise something was up and perform quickly so we could return home and lock down.
The views from our apartment literally disappeared as we became wrapped in a white cloud. The wind howled and was only drowned out by the occaisional thunder. There was lightning too but not well defined in the thick white fog. It was time to hunker down for the night and be grateful that we at least had nowhere left to go. We were in our strange, unfamiliar new home and what a welcoming party it had thrown for us.
On Boxing Day we had to pick up a few things but it was a nightmare. A dog coat for Pip was an essential but none was to be had in Bloomingdales. Then we went looking for toys but couldn't find anything suitable either. So back to the apartment to research on-line and then we headed off to Macy's. Oh for the accessible gates of the London Underground - the New York subway seems to have nothing except a few disabled gates that you require a special card to access. So we walked.
Actually, it's not really possible to get lost in Midtown because the grid system is easy enough to follow but still it's hard to know where you are in all the other senses. The shops were just packed and the store guides are frankly appalling - ok so I want to be in the seventh avenue building, just where on earth is that? Am I supposed to have a built in compass???
Macy's looked like Primark in Leytonstone - all the merchandise was scattered on the floor as the locusts swarmed over the shop looking to consume. We needed a new jacket for J and boots for Harriet because we had heard a storm was coming later that day.
We got the boots and the jacket eventually and headed back home. It had been snowing on the way here - gentle flakes that made the place look very pretty. On the return journey it was becoming much more serious and no matter which direction we walked we always seemed to be walking into the wind. It was becoming bitterly cold and we still had no dog coat for Pip.
By 4pm we had managed to get home and I got a dog coat from a local store. It was the wrong size so back I trudged to get the next size. The road surfaces had begun to disappear and visibility was a few nose lengths and not much more. Cars were getting into real difficulty and a few had been abandoned already. I got back and headed out with Pip who at least had the good sense to realise something was up and perform quickly so we could return home and lock down.
The views from our apartment literally disappeared as we became wrapped in a white cloud. The wind howled and was only drowned out by the occaisional thunder. There was lightning too but not well defined in the thick white fog. It was time to hunker down for the night and be grateful that we at least had nowhere left to go. We were in our strange, unfamiliar new home and what a welcoming party it had thrown for us.
Monday 27 December 2010
An Unusual Christmas
We managed to sleep till about 4am, which is not that bad considering how early we collapsed asleep. This was to be a Christmas Day like no other. All of Harriet's presents will be coming later so all we had for her was a CBeebies DVD from my brother's family. The original plan was to arrive on December 20th and buy her a trike during the week but alas that was out of the window too.
The first thing we did was go to a nearby shop and buy some essential provisions. Next we took a walk out to Central Park. It was bitterly cold so we didn't hang around for very long. It had become clear that Pip was going to need a coat - we were criticised by a homeless woman we met on the return journey for not covering her.
Our Christmas lunch was at a French restaurant round the block. The food was excellent and the service was good but there was a horrendous smell of paint. This was apparently coming from the adjacent property and it really detracted from the whole experience. That said, Harriet was fine and as usual was the star of the show and pulled in the fellow diners.
We skyped the family back home. Our chatterbox daughter is so often quiet on the phone and starts babbling as soon as it has gone off. She started to get into a bit more this time and it was so nice to see her dancing and waving across the miles.
That was the end of the day for us pretty much. For Americans Thanksgiving is the big party and Christmas lacks the importance the British ascribe to it. So there were no Christmas specials of our favourite shows - in fact we are struggling to find anything on our cable service.
A quiet, unusual Christmas but of course still very exciting to be in this place. It wasn't a white Christmas but we were promised snow the following day.
The first thing we did was go to a nearby shop and buy some essential provisions. Next we took a walk out to Central Park. It was bitterly cold so we didn't hang around for very long. It had become clear that Pip was going to need a coat - we were criticised by a homeless woman we met on the return journey for not covering her.
Our Christmas lunch was at a French restaurant round the block. The food was excellent and the service was good but there was a horrendous smell of paint. This was apparently coming from the adjacent property and it really detracted from the whole experience. That said, Harriet was fine and as usual was the star of the show and pulled in the fellow diners.
We skyped the family back home. Our chatterbox daughter is so often quiet on the phone and starts babbling as soon as it has gone off. She started to get into a bit more this time and it was so nice to see her dancing and waving across the miles.
That was the end of the day for us pretty much. For Americans Thanksgiving is the big party and Christmas lacks the importance the British ascribe to it. So there were no Christmas specials of our favourite shows - in fact we are struggling to find anything on our cable service.
A quiet, unusual Christmas but of course still very exciting to be in this place. It wasn't a white Christmas but we were promised snow the following day.
Sunday 26 December 2010
How To Emigrate on Christmas Eve
We travelled to Leytonstone for the last time on Saturday to take meter readings and clean up. As we left St Pauls the snow had not yet started but by the time we reached our former front door it was falling thick and fast. The return walk to the station took real effort to push the pram through the snow. When we heard that British Airways had cancelled all their flights we knew that we were in trouble. Sure enough on Sunday evening our flight was cancelled. The earliest we could be rebooked was Christmas Eve.
Friday eventually came. J had us packed and ready for the taxi at 730. We took a ceremonial route through London - from St Pauls down Fleet Street and then the Strand, passing King's College London. Then down the Mall with the palace of Westminster and the London Eye to the left and Buckingham palace straight ahead.
It was quiet so we arrived quickly at Heathrow (I'll skip pointing out the other highlights on the route such as the Hammersmith flyover). We checked in at the business class zone and waited for Pip to arrive.
Poor Pip has never been alone before and yet has spent the last two weeks in the wintry kennels. Billy will not be travelling with us - he was too big to travel on the flight as checked baggage and for too many New York apartments. He has the knack for being in the wrong place all the time and is usually blocking some access route with his bulk or sweeping a tray of mugs of tea off a table with his tail. He has been bored since Bobby left and our salvation came when Sarah, J's sister, offered a home for Billy with her family including Milly, Billy's sister. He will be much happier in the countryside with a friend than being stuck in a New York skyscraper.
We could hear her howling in her box from miles away. She would not be comforted and it was a bit of a farce getting her checked in. Eventually we found someone who knew what to do but they wouldn't take her until one hour before. We negociated an hour and a half to give us time to clear security ourselves (not an easy task with a pram and a baby). At least we could get her out and give her a cuddle, which calmed her down.
I'm sure we looked a sight in Heathrow. When she was returned to her box she started shouting the place down again. We entered into a region of Heathrow the pulic rarely sees - no shiny surfaces and smart lighting here. Her box was x-Rayed and we handed her over to be taken into the bowels of the airport.
For us it was now time to race through the security and grab a quick drink in the lounge. Harriet got a chance to stomp about a bit before the flight. This was to be her fourth transatlantic flight and would be the first one in which she has had her own seat. The sit-n-stroll would come into its own on this journey transforming between a buggy, a car seat and a flight seat.
I'm sure there was a lot of resentment as people walked past this baby in a business class seat. I've thought it myself but frankly this time I didn't care and thankfully there were other children so we didn't feel too exposed. The flight was excellent apart from one incident. For the first time in my life I needed to press the emergency button in the toilet - when the steward arrived I shouted: "Go to the man in 13G and tell him to bring the change of clothes".
Poor Harriet has been ill recently so thank goodness J had the foresight to pack a complete outfit change. Appropriately enough she was changed into the colours of the American flag as she entered the land of her birth yet again.
Once we had cleared immigration the first noise we heard in the baggage area was Pip. Sitting in the corner area for outsized baggage was her box. I have no idea what it is like travelling in the hold of a 777 as it takes off and lands and I hope I never will. I worried that this would traumatise Pip but she soon calmed down once she was out of her box and back with us.
Customs took a while looking at her documents but the lack of understanding on their faces was apparent to all. Eventually they waved us on. Because the UK is rabies free she can enter with a simple health certificate, a microchip and proof of ownership.
We arried in JFK. Our driver here was waiting with a sign and thankfully had a decent sized vehicle that easily accommodated us. It wasn't long before that famous city skyline was in front of us and we had arrived outside our building. We have a fabulous place for a month before having to find something more appropriate to our budget. Harriet is completely unfazed by the change and has no fear looking down from the 34th floor to the streets below. Pip has returned to exactly how she was before and is soon happily dozing on the sofa following our first walk around the block.
And so the next chapter begins.
Friday eventually came. J had us packed and ready for the taxi at 730. We took a ceremonial route through London - from St Pauls down Fleet Street and then the Strand, passing King's College London. Then down the Mall with the palace of Westminster and the London Eye to the left and Buckingham palace straight ahead.
It was quiet so we arrived quickly at Heathrow (I'll skip pointing out the other highlights on the route such as the Hammersmith flyover). We checked in at the business class zone and waited for Pip to arrive.
Poor Pip has never been alone before and yet has spent the last two weeks in the wintry kennels. Billy will not be travelling with us - he was too big to travel on the flight as checked baggage and for too many New York apartments. He has the knack for being in the wrong place all the time and is usually blocking some access route with his bulk or sweeping a tray of mugs of tea off a table with his tail. He has been bored since Bobby left and our salvation came when Sarah, J's sister, offered a home for Billy with her family including Milly, Billy's sister. He will be much happier in the countryside with a friend than being stuck in a New York skyscraper.
We could hear her howling in her box from miles away. She would not be comforted and it was a bit of a farce getting her checked in. Eventually we found someone who knew what to do but they wouldn't take her until one hour before. We negociated an hour and a half to give us time to clear security ourselves (not an easy task with a pram and a baby). At least we could get her out and give her a cuddle, which calmed her down.
I'm sure we looked a sight in Heathrow. When she was returned to her box she started shouting the place down again. We entered into a region of Heathrow the pulic rarely sees - no shiny surfaces and smart lighting here. Her box was x-Rayed and we handed her over to be taken into the bowels of the airport.
For us it was now time to race through the security and grab a quick drink in the lounge. Harriet got a chance to stomp about a bit before the flight. This was to be her fourth transatlantic flight and would be the first one in which she has had her own seat. The sit-n-stroll would come into its own on this journey transforming between a buggy, a car seat and a flight seat.
I'm sure there was a lot of resentment as people walked past this baby in a business class seat. I've thought it myself but frankly this time I didn't care and thankfully there were other children so we didn't feel too exposed. The flight was excellent apart from one incident. For the first time in my life I needed to press the emergency button in the toilet - when the steward arrived I shouted: "Go to the man in 13G and tell him to bring the change of clothes".
Poor Harriet has been ill recently so thank goodness J had the foresight to pack a complete outfit change. Appropriately enough she was changed into the colours of the American flag as she entered the land of her birth yet again.
Once we had cleared immigration the first noise we heard in the baggage area was Pip. Sitting in the corner area for outsized baggage was her box. I have no idea what it is like travelling in the hold of a 777 as it takes off and lands and I hope I never will. I worried that this would traumatise Pip but she soon calmed down once she was out of her box and back with us.
Customs took a while looking at her documents but the lack of understanding on their faces was apparent to all. Eventually they waved us on. Because the UK is rabies free she can enter with a simple health certificate, a microchip and proof of ownership.
We arried in JFK. Our driver here was waiting with a sign and thankfully had a decent sized vehicle that easily accommodated us. It wasn't long before that famous city skyline was in front of us and we had arrived outside our building. We have a fabulous place for a month before having to find something more appropriate to our budget. Harriet is completely unfazed by the change and has no fear looking down from the 34th floor to the streets below. Pip has returned to exactly how she was before and is soon happily dozing on the sofa following our first walk around the block.
And so the next chapter begins.
Friday 17 December 2010
Drawing Near
It's been a hard few days because Harriet was ill the night before we left for Scotland. She hasn't much improved and our journey up was a nightmare. Our train was cancelled so we had to wait an hour for the next one but we would have no reservations on this. Kings Cross has no sit down cafe and even if it scrubs up well in the future it is just hideous at the moment. It must feel like the unloved, forgotten urchin next to the splendour of St Pancras.
Anyway, we rushed like madmen when the platform was announced and got some seats. Off to York, where we sat for an hour due to signal failure. the train drew into Edinburgh as the light was fading and we queued in the freezing weather for a taxi. These were in short supply it seemed.
Next we waited and waited and waited to get our hire car. It was the perfect storm of simpleton customer before us and simpleton Hertz employee. After an age we were ready to head out into the Edinburgh rush hour.
We had left St Pauls at 7am and by 6pm we had made it to Grangemouth. Ok the flight may be delayed but honestly New York to Edinburgh can't be much worse than London to Edinburgh.
It was essential that we make it so she could see her Gran and Grandad. She is so lucky to have such a wide reaching and loving extended family but for me of course it has always been extra-special to go to Scotland.
She now has quite the collection of toys there including a well stocked kitchen. Whenever she comes to Scotland she will be able to play with them and will associate them with Gran and Grandad.
Because she was ill we couldn't do much or see as many people as we might usually. We did see two great aunts (Betty and Isabel) and of course when we are in New York we will be able to go to Canada to see my father's eldest sister (the 'big yin', Jean).
It was sad to say goodbye but we tried to keep in mind that this is really not goodbye but see you later. We will be extra disciplined in using Skype for all the grandparents, aunts and uncles and dear friends. Facebook and other social media will keep everyone up to date and keep us up to date with everyone back home. Also I expect we'll have a fair few visitors stateside as much as we will be coming back here.
The US will offer us so much. Gay parenting is much more established and although we sadly can't become regulars with our friends in Castro Dads San Francisco yet there will be something similar in New York. She's just at the age to start socialising more and having friends with similar backgrounds will be a boon. We also have a much shorter distance to the clinics and the surrogate for the next one.
Who knows what the future will bring. When we took our first steps towards having Harriet in 2006 we couldn't possibly know. I have been keeping notes both in public and private to record all the ups and downs along the way. To each particular story, whether happy or sad there is a constant background note that says: 'this is right and you wouldn't change it for the world'.
Fingers crossed for Monday. There's still a lot to do but we wouldn't have it any other way.
Anyway, we rushed like madmen when the platform was announced and got some seats. Off to York, where we sat for an hour due to signal failure. the train drew into Edinburgh as the light was fading and we queued in the freezing weather for a taxi. These were in short supply it seemed.
Next we waited and waited and waited to get our hire car. It was the perfect storm of simpleton customer before us and simpleton Hertz employee. After an age we were ready to head out into the Edinburgh rush hour.
We had left St Pauls at 7am and by 6pm we had made it to Grangemouth. Ok the flight may be delayed but honestly New York to Edinburgh can't be much worse than London to Edinburgh.
It was essential that we make it so she could see her Gran and Grandad. She is so lucky to have such a wide reaching and loving extended family but for me of course it has always been extra-special to go to Scotland.
She now has quite the collection of toys there including a well stocked kitchen. Whenever she comes to Scotland she will be able to play with them and will associate them with Gran and Grandad.
Because she was ill we couldn't do much or see as many people as we might usually. We did see two great aunts (Betty and Isabel) and of course when we are in New York we will be able to go to Canada to see my father's eldest sister (the 'big yin', Jean).
It was sad to say goodbye but we tried to keep in mind that this is really not goodbye but see you later. We will be extra disciplined in using Skype for all the grandparents, aunts and uncles and dear friends. Facebook and other social media will keep everyone up to date and keep us up to date with everyone back home. Also I expect we'll have a fair few visitors stateside as much as we will be coming back here.
The US will offer us so much. Gay parenting is much more established and although we sadly can't become regulars with our friends in Castro Dads San Francisco yet there will be something similar in New York. She's just at the age to start socialising more and having friends with similar backgrounds will be a boon. We also have a much shorter distance to the clinics and the surrogate for the next one.
Who knows what the future will bring. When we took our first steps towards having Harriet in 2006 we couldn't possibly know. I have been keeping notes both in public and private to record all the ups and downs along the way. To each particular story, whether happy or sad there is a constant background note that says: 'this is right and you wouldn't change it for the world'.
Fingers crossed for Monday. There's still a lot to do but we wouldn't have it any other way.
Saturday 11 December 2010
On the road again
I'm writing this as we drive up to the Midlands in a hired van. If there were any doubts about how 'real' the move is they have gone now. Our flights are booked and we will not sleep again in our current house. We'll be staying with family tonight, a friend tomorrow, then a corporate apartment in St Pauls (punctuated by two days in a hotel in Scotland) before finally reaching our first temporary US address (near to Central Park). The car has been sold and the movers have carried out the survey. Next week our neighbours will have to cope with a shipping container blocking the road.
We're walking a tightrope. If we stopped and thought about it we would fall off so we press on. To all the eejits on TV *this* is being on a journey. I'm not 100% sure where it is taking us but it is taking us somewhere and there is nothing left to do except go with it.
We're walking a tightrope. If we stopped and thought about it we would fall off so we press on. To all the eejits on TV *this* is being on a journey. I'm not 100% sure where it is taking us but it is taking us somewhere and there is nothing left to do except go with it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)