Impressed and the city

I glanced around from the half open window of the yellow cab with a knot in my stomach. Not mentioning to my friend that really I was nervous and wondered if it would be as we imagined the day we threw caution and graduation caps to the wind. The Motorway was long and the cab old and
scruffy with the black leather peeling off the seats.

But as I looked to the right now, unexpectedly I felt the nerves disappearing with a replacement of awe and intense excitement as the magnificent Manhattan Skyline suddenly came into view. Just as the one pictured in the black and white prints and on the Designer postcard wallpaper hanging in the arty but pricey home store in town. It wasnít a disappointment, a snapshot right in front of my eyes and now an instant memory that would prove to last.

We pulled up outside the 1920ís style building, too high for the eye to see from the position in the taxi. Being August the glorious city heat hit me in the face as we stepped out, I was completely inspired in those few moments realising then why New York was also known as the city of dreams. My friend now looking up with that same catching flies, mouth wide-open look that was on my face too and immediately I envied the people who resided here, rushing to work in their trainers but with high heels safely tucked in a designer handbag. All around the beeps from the busy traffic, music in the distance and the loud buzz of life just happening as we stood still trying to take it all in feeling like dots
on the sidewalk. Any previous nerves had now long gone even though my suitcase was only just being pulled out of the trunk, I was sure I would never want to leave. Not a typical paradise, no sandy beaches or palm trees unless youíre rich or lucky enough to be visiting the weekend home in the Hamptonís but a paradise all the same.

Waking the next morning to be greeted by smells of bagels and coffee and the sound of distant sirens. We were ready to explore the hidden flea markets in the back streets of Soho, stroll around the lightly cooled Guggenheim and pay tribute at Strawberry Fields. I knew then that my journal would no longer close from the pages full of experiences and moments to be captured here....

K Bradshaw

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