Real America

Before we get into the detail of Wednesday, it’s worth scribbling a few lines about how Tuesday finished off. Having returned to the room to drop bags and recharge a while (no, not really a euphemism), we went off in search of an evening meal. For the first time of the entire week’s stay, we went west from the hotel, onto Eighth Avenue. This area is an uncomfortable mix of Broadway theatres with some high profile productions, and sleazy adult stores and dive bars – though by all accounts, not nearly as sleazy as it once was. Of course, that’s makes for an interesting mix of humanity.

We looked in the windows of a number of foody places, all of which were either too expensive or too cheap. A bit like Goldilocks, we were looking for a place which was just right. Truth be told, we never really found it (a good old fashioned diner would have been ideal). So we ended up in a deli and ordered ‘gourmet deluxe’ sandwiches. Except, of course, they were neither. We both opted for Number 54 – the hot roast beef, but when the guy serving us intimated in his dialect of American that in order to make it hot, he was going to use the gravy from some meatballs which were part of the help-your-self section, we agreed cold beef was good. To be fair, what we ended up with was good and very generously stuffed. Just not quite what we’d planned. Oh well.

The same place provided room supplies, including Sam Adams Boston Ale and a beer called Amber Ale from a brewery I now forget (and neglected to photograph the label as a memento, as I had intended).

It was 20:30 as we got back to the hotel. We did debate going to the lounge for a beer and keep the bottles for tomorrow, but Kay’s casting vote was for the room. Not being that inclined to sit in the lounge by myself, the bottles sufficed. CBS kept us entertained with NCIS, both the original version and the LA spin off, followed by a New York cop series called Golden Boy .


An unintended eary start with both of us beating the alarm to some tune. Bags packed and administrative niceties taken care of, we adjourned to the lobby for coffee and free WiFi – and to let the morning rush subside (or so I hoped). Then the short wobble with the bags to the Hertz kiosk inside a parking garage. This is actually well organised. A video chat with a Hertz agent, a scan of the credit card, driving licence held up to the camera and a little Chevy
Sonic appeared. Connecticut plates, 561ZVO with 436 miles. Let the, er, fun begin.

I’ve previously driven across Manhattan with Nick, albeit unintentionally as we missed an exit on the Interstate. That was a Sunday and the route was pretty much straight west to east where the I495 crosses Manhattan between the Lincoln Tunnel and the Midtown Tunnel. This time, there was a route to follow. Despite what I typed last night, I decided to follow Google’s directions, which were; Eighth Ave, turn left 42nd St, turn right Second Ave (so far, so stressfully good), then turn left into the Midtown Tunnel. In true US tradition, a driver gets about ten yards warning of the turn into the tunnel, by which time if you’re not in the left two lanes (I was in the centre of five, not knowing when the turn was due) you’re out of luck as bollards separate the lanes. I was out of luck. OK, turn right three times and we’re sorted, right? No. A traffic warden was waving her arms at the next junction to tell me I wasn’t turning right. A couple more blocks and some lane weaving (a delivery truck double parked), and we were there. Through the Midtown tunnel, $7.50 lighter for the toll, and we were cruising east on I495, the Long Island Expressway.

The LIE is of course ironically named. Even though it was after the rush, and we were heading out of the city, it frequently ground to a brief halt, before picking up to 60mph again. Typical freeway driving, I guess, but definately not “express”. We kept on the I495 until we started seeing greenery and exited the Interstate, almost at random. We found ourselves in an expensive looking village called Albertson. Then, very much by accident, on Rt 25 – the perfect “B road” to use UK terminology. We stopped at a 7-Eleven for a snack and cold drink (and to have a good look at the car and its radio etc. for the first time), before continuing on Rt.25.

This took us past the delightfully named Hicksville and Muttontown to Syosset and Woodbury. There we managed to get some WiFi, courtesy of a SBs and set course for our intended destination of Tangers Outlet Mall. As it turned out, again very much by luck than judgement, we were pretty much on the right road. The advantage of being off the Interstate is of course that we get to see a lot more of ‘real America’.

Tangers Mall is in the township of Deer Park. It is a very spread-out, open air mall — McArthur Glenn on a steroids. It’s a lovely sunny day with blue skies and we opted to leave our coats in the car – a borderline foolish decision. Each shop we’ve been in has felt a lot warmer than outside, put it that way.

Lunch was provided by Johnny Rockets – which was empty when we entered just before Noon, but very quickly filled up. A meal which I reckon would have cost us well over $50 in Times Square was $30 with tip. Again, welcome to real America. After lunch, Kay has set off armed with the mall guide, her targets underlined in a manner worthy of a military operation. In the same spirit, I have set up headquarters in — wait for it — Starbucks. Free WiFi remember!

[No photos in this update – typed on my iPad and I’ve not downloaded my camera yet today]

OK, just this one taken on my iPad inside Starbucks at Tangers Mall…


And this view out the window….


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