Grand Central Station

By the time we surfaced the this morning, it was nudging nine o’clock. I suspect the infamous time difference was beginning to make its presence felt, or at least that’s what I was telling myself. It definitely couldn’t have been the fact that I’d sat up half the night, nursing beers after a 3,000-mile flight, could it? Nah. We didn’t feel particularly shattered, but motivating myself to actually get up and go took a bit of doing. Eventually, about an hour later, we finally emerged from the hotel, grabbed a quick bite to eat from one of the countless delis, and began our walk towards the legendary Grand Central Terminal.

A Stroll to Grandeur

New York Public libarary

Our route took us past some classic New York sights. We ambled by a rather impressive fountain display – I think it was called Lilholts Pooley Pool, or something equally memorable (great name, that!). It was one of those wonderfully over-the-top Christmas decorations you see in American cities, with giant, brightly coloured baubles in the water, looking like escaped ornaments from a giant’s Christmas tree. It certainly brought a smile to our faces.

Pressing on, we skirted past the famous Rockefeller Plaza, already buzzing with that unmistakable festive energy, before finding ourselves on the grand expanse of Park Avenue. Strolling down this iconic street, flanked by its towering, stately buildings, you really get a sense of the city's power and architectural ambition. It’s a world away from the flashing lights of Times Square but every bit as New York. Our destination, Grand Central, was drawing ever closer, and I couldn’t wait to see if the inside lived up to its monumental reputation.

Cathedral of Commuting

Grand central Terminal

From the outside, Grand Central Terminal doesn't scream "colossal." It’s impressive, sure, but it cleverly disguises its true scale. Then you walk in. Wow. The place is absolutely vast, a veritable cathedral dedicated to the art of getting from A to B. It unfolds across three main levels. Down in the depths are the platforms where the trains lurk, alongside a scattering of coffee shops for the commuter. But the main floor, the Grand Concourse, is the one you see in all the films – an immense, echoing hall bathed in a soft light, bustling with people and home to the grand ticket windows.

The upper public floor, where you often enter at street level from Park Avenue, offers these brilliant elevated views down onto the main concourse, particularly of the majestic staircases. You get the distinct impression that half the people there are, like us, just soaking it all in and taking photos, rather than actually catching a train. One of the most striking features for me was the way the concourse gently slopes downwards towards the lower levels, with these enormous, almost chandelier-like light fittings hanging from the high ceiling, guiding the way.

And speaking of ceilings, if you head into the main ticket hall and cast your eyes upwards, you’re in for a treat. The entire vaulted ceiling is an amazing celestial panorama, a beautiful teal sky painted with golden constellations. Apparently, for donkey's years, you couldn't really see this masterpiece properly; it was hidden under layers of grime from decades of cigarette smoke. When they finally restored it, they cleverly left one tiny, dark patch on the original paintwork untouched, just to show you the difference. It’s a fantastic touch.

Vending machine vendetta

While we were marvelling at the architecture, we decided to sort out our travel for the week and get the 7-day MTA cards. These offer unlimited travel on the subway and buses, and at $27 each, they’re absolutely cracking value for money. The only snag? You have to buy them from a vending machine. Now, Grand Central is a hub for several different rail services – Metro-North, Amtrak, Long Island Rail Road – plus the local MTA subways. And it seemed to us like each of these services had its own army of little ticket-selling robots, all stubbornly refusing to acknowledge each other. It was like yesterday’s train ticket palaver all over again, but this time with uncooperative machines instead of unhelpful staff.

After a bit of trial and error, we finally located the correct MTA machine, only to discover it had a personal vendetta against card payments. So, we ended up feeding our precious smaller notes into it, which I was trying to avoid as getting change for a $50 bill can be a right pain in the arse. A word to the wise about these travel cards too: they’re made of surprisingly thin cardboard and feel like they could bend or snap if you so much as look at them sternly. You do get charged for the card itself, as they're re-loadable, so best to treat them with a bit of care.

Fifth Avenue

Radio City

With our travel cards sorted and Grand Central thoroughly explored, it was time to brave the outside world again and hunt down some lunch. We emerged and set off for a stroll along the famous Fifth Avenue. Now, Fifth Avenue is lined with all sorts of posh shops and impressive buildings, but finding somewhere that appealed for a quick, casual bite with somewhere to actually sit down inside proved surprisingly tricky. Plenty of places offered food, but nothing quite hit the spot or looked like it would offer refuge from the biting wind.

Speaking of the wind, it was a real force to be reckoned with. With all those colossal skyscrapers channelling it down the avenues, and the low winter sun keeping the streets in permanent shade, that New York cold cut right through you. After a while, with our stomachs rumbling and the chill setting in, we spotted the golden arches of McDonald's. "Well," we thought, "when in Rome..." or in this case, when freezing on Fifth Avenue, so we dived in.

And you know what? It was a revelation, definitely not like anything you get back in the UK, that’s for sure. We both went for a rather lovely Aberdeen Angus burger topped with Swiss cheese, which came with a mountain of large fries and what can only be described as a bucket-sized soft drink – all for about $7 each. It was surprisingly tasty and did the trick perfectly.

Warmed and refuelled, we had a bit more of a stroll around the shops, still battling the cold. We even found a 99-cent shop, which felt a bit out of place amongst the ritzier establishments. It was a life saver for me, though, as I’d typically managed to forget my woolly hat and scarf, so I quickly acquired some new, very reasonably priced headgear. After a bit more window shopping and generally soaking up the atmosphere, we decided it was time to head back to the hotel for that essential afternoon nap, to recharge the batteries for whatever the evening might hold.

When we got back to the room, we discovered a new, unwelcome feature: the tap in the bathroom was leaking quite enthusiastically. We reported it, and soon enough, a maintenance chap turned up. It didn't take him long to fix the pesky tap, thankfully. The real entertainment, though, was listening to him getting what sounded like a right earful from reception over his handheld radio. I can't speak a word of Spanish, but there was a lot of rather animated shouting going back and forth, especially when he announced he had to turn the water off for ten minutes. The ensuing "flood" of calls to reception – no pun intended – from other guests apparently caused quite the stir. Just another quiet afternoon in a New York hotel!

Time Square Wander

Time Square Neon

While Jane was enjoying a well-deserved nap, I decided to embark on a little solo mission. My objective? To recce the local subway situation and generally have a bit of a stroll around Times Square on my own for an hour or so. I didn't plan on venturing too far, but I was keen to see how the infamous New York subway compared to our own London Underground.

There were a couple of stations conveniently located on either side of our hotel, so I popped into one. First impressions? It’s nothing like the Tube, where you can spend what feels like half your life descending miles into the earth on escalators just to travel a quarter of a mile. Here, it was just a couple of flights of stairs down from the pavement – much more immediate. I only travelled one stop, more out of curiosity than anything, and also to make sure Jane would be able to manage the stairs, as lifts seemed to be a bit of a rare luxury in this particular area. It’s a funny thing, those shallow subway lines. As you walk along some streets, you can hear the trains rumbling right beneath your feet through the metal grates in the pavement. In a few places, if you time it right, you can even catch a glimpse of the tops of the carriages flashing past. Definitely a different experience!

One Time Square from the Tickets steps

I got back to the hotel around six o’clock, had a quick breather myself, and then it was time to think about rustling up some dinner with Jane. We had absolutely no plan, so we just headed out for a wander. It's not like you're short of places to eat around Times Square; the challenge is sifting through them all to find somewhere decent that doesn't require a second mortgage. Eventually, tucked away on 47th Street, we stumbled upon an Irish pub called Langans. It turned out to be a cracking find – the food was lovely, proper hearty stuff, and really good value for money.

Once we were suitably fed and watered, we decided to walk it off with a browse around some of the model shops in the Times Square area, soaking up the still-bonkers atmosphere. During our wanderings, we even managed to snag a couple of free energy drinks. Some poor bloke's trolley, laden with them, tipped over, and cans went rolling everywhere. We helped pick a few up, and he insisted we take a couple for our trouble. FYI, they tasted absolutely vile, which probably explains why they were being given away as free samples in the first place!

We finally made it back to the hotel around one in the morning again, caught a bit of telly, and then crashed out. Another day in New York was over, just like that. But we were definitely starting to get the hang of the place now, finding our way around without any major dramas, which felt like a small victory in itself.