Nuggets from New York : two

The joy of NYPL

This rather smacks of boring friends and family to death with seemingly endless pictures of places they have never been nor want to go to, but I just can't stop talking about NYPL and how wonderful it is. Two things: NYPL and 'wonderful'.

NYPL: I pronounce it nipple, which bestows upon it a charm all of its own- a place of true academic pleasure. The motto of my University is about nipples but I have never felt about Cambridge the way I do about NYPL. I feel my pronunciation of this joyful institution is entirely justifiable. Their catalogue, catNYP, is obviously intended to be pronounced as catnip. NYPL- obvious.

Wonderful: A marvel; a genuine jaw-dropper. Aside from the truly beautiful architecture, including a room entirely constructed from marble and a plastic moulded ceiling which looks more like wood than wood does, the true wonder of NYPL is its admissions policy. Anyone can use it. Not just people from NYC, or even from New York state; you don't even have to be an American (and it doesn't help if you are). Anyone can just turn up, order a book and read it in what has to be one of the most palatial reading rooms I have ever seen. They also send fetching slips around the building by pneumatic tube.

My overall impression of Manhattan (I have to confess to not travelling much further abroad) was of a city that was too busy for me; the perceived unfriendliness of the 'herds' of commuters, shoppers and tourists was completely unjustified, when I spoke with people they were open, honest and often passionate about their city. What I couldn't get over was the shabbiness of the place, the tourist areas were tacky as I expected and the richer areas markedly leafier than the poor ones, but on the whole everything looked like it had been updated in the late 80s, early 90s and badly needed a re-fit. It was unlike London, Beijing or Shanghai which had been my benchmarks, all in all it was more like the Glasgow of my childhood- full of promise, but stuck in 1988.

I expected that I'd be disappointed with the standard New York fare and I was, it had the fake glossy veneer of the movies, but was dull and prosaic in its quotidian reality. The exception was the view from the top of the Rockerfeller Centre, which was simply breathtaking. The old wisdom of doing what you want rather than what the guide book tells you rings true. All the things I went for: brewpubs, NYPL, meeting Liz who I hadn't seen for too long, eating breakfast in Absolute Bagels (where they sell cream cheese by the half-pound) with ordinary New Yorkers; that's what made it a real trip to remember for me.

All of this is without mentioning the killer wildlife in Central Park, including the rabbit lady. I have to tell you about the rabbit lady. I will tell you about the rabbit lady, I promise.