Tag Archives: Manhattan

Loving New York DAY ONE

 Lucy Robinson with jetlag

I’m here! I’m here! I’m here! As you can see, I look like an alien, I smell like a tramp and I sound like a MAN. A growly sexy man, except I’m a rotten smelly woman. Anyway, what’s up, yo! As many readers know, I blog most days about things I love because, since doing a thing called the Lightning Process a few months back to cure my ass of M.E., I’ve discovered that life is in fact amazing and it’s worth celebrating every tiny thing. And when I’m in New York I love ALL THE THINGS. So here’s what … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY FIFTEEN: FAREWELL MY FRIEND

 Lucy Robinson Blog

Our final day in New York was beautiful. (Not mardy and grey like this photo.) The sun shone in that unmistakably New Yorkian way; the fire escapes seemed to be covered in diamonds and the brownstone glowed as if it had been lit by an experienced lighting designer. Elegant columns of steam snaked up from manholes just like in the movies and . . . (Shit. I just said ‘movies.’ I also caught myself saying ‘can you pop the trunk?’ to a taxi driver and ‘we’ll take the check please’ to a waitress. I’m out of control. Or even outta … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY TEN: VAN GOGH AND CUCUMBERS

 Lucy Robinson Blog

It’s indescribably strange being in New York at the moment. In Midtown and Uptown Manhattan, you’d never know that anything had happened. Capitalism roars on; the lights flash, the taxis honk and the tourists continue to pour in. We got stuck tonight and couldn’t find a hotel anywhere in the city. It’s rammed. But that’s not the real picture. The taxis aren’t going to be here much longer, for starters, because unless petrol is shipped in in vast quantities, they’re all going to run out. From 25th Street downwards New York is still a strange, pitch-black, post-apocalyptic nightmare. Anyone living … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY NINE: DEFIANCE

 Lucy Robinson Blog - COPYRIGHT EVA BELL PHOTOGRAPHY

New York City is having none of this shit. Even in the middle of the hurricane there were shops open at 2am. And yesterday morning, the people took to the streets. Everyone was out in force, knocking back takeaway coffee, scurrying around with deli takeaways, blinking in the light. They sidestepped fallen trees, braved the NY traffic (no traffic lights) and sang out of tune in candlelit bars. Today even more stores are open. Restaurants, cafes, bars – each one jammed with people charging their laptops and phones. There are even nightclubs gearing up for post-hurricane parties. Although Burger Joint, … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY EIGHT: CHAOS AND SILENCE

 Lucy Robinson - Hurricane Sandy

When they’d exhausted the stories of first loves, naughty escapades, personal tragedies, a silence fell. And that was the most unsettling thing. Not the lack of anything to say, not the certainty that there were no certainties tonight. No, it was the silence. It was wrong. Illogical; threatening. The worst hurricane to make landfall in the States in one hundred years. The Frankenstorm. The furious, cross-current crazy weather system, posing an inestimable threat to life on the eastern coast. And yet the trees outside the window were still. The air  was still. They stuck their hands, their heads out of … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY SEVEN: HURRICANE SANDY ARRIVES

 Lucy Robinson. Copyright EVA BELL PHOTOGRAPHY

It’s been a strange day. At 1am I was singing show tunes in Duplex with a load of misty-eyed gay men. I was singing What I Did for Love from Chorus Line. Even sung badly (I was pretty shit) it’s a tear-jerker. At 9.30am I was eating sausages and chattering gayly about our plans for the rest of the week. Once the hurricane had passed. Brunches, shopping, trips to little fishing villages on Long Island. Lovely! At 2pm I was eating pancakes in Manatus and dreaming of clothes I’d just perved at in the West Village. The shops were mostly closed; … Continue reading

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NEW YORK DAY THREE: POTTY MOUTH

 Lucy Robinson with bagel.

Today I’ve mostly been trying to get better. But I did go to the Metropolitan Opera House for a backstage tour and, possibly, made a massive error. I was there because the protagonist in my third novel is going to go and work there briefly so I needed to spy on them. It was brilliant, actually; incredibly informative and useful. I was in heaven until a really lovely, well-heeled lady from Manhattan asked me why I was making so many notes. I explained that I was a novelist. (I still feel like such a twonk saying this. I expect people … Continue reading

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