The last time I was in New York City, I stayed in a sub-rented housing commission apartment in Harlem with 3 backpackers and rats the size of Possums rustling around behind the couch and in the cupboards. The noise was epic; shouting in the stairwells, men a-cussin’, people getting knifed on the streets, Cop car sirens, ho’s yelling abuse.
Slept through the lot.
I recall the lavatory didn’t work and we had to use a communal one in the hall. I’ve blacked a lot of that memory out I think although I DO remember an eye-ball staring at me through a hole in the door as I peed one night. It could have been a lot worse so I was un-fazed. I just poked it hard with my finger and the Eye disappeared.
It’s nice enough I s’pose. Costs a tidy $700 per night but the rats are minimal and absolutely no perves at the urinals but it does have a massive carbon footprint.
I do feel guilty. But how many tour guests would I get if I ran a tour of New York from a Harlem subsidised flat?
Less I’m predicting.
This is Bemelman’s bar where the author of the Madeleine series of books painted the walls in return for free board there.
(Worth looking into if you are an artist?)
The dude in the elevator has white gloves, the bellhop looks like Charlie out of the Chocolate Factory, it’s all very pretentious but I can’t get enough of it and feel like a Fairy Princess in a dream.
Where is the Paparazzi?
Everything that isn’t nailed down must be tipped. I have spent a queen’s ransom pressing those rather dull mono-tone U.S. bills into everyone’s hands. I always miss the Aussie gay coloured money when I am overseas. Why don’t they put a bit of colour in their lives?
Spruce up their crappy bland dollar bills?