Minnows with medicals in Manhattan

Allan Kasof kindly drove us into central Manhattan after peak hour. We left Long Island about 9am but the one and a half hour freeway and central New York journey still seemed pretty busy to us. He navigated superbly to our hotel “Millennium on Broadway” on 46th Street.

The bad news at this stage was that Bas was feeling quite ill, indeed too ill to launch himself on New York. He contacted the house doctor who was nowhere near the house but who would be pleased to see him. We commenced a very long walk and began to understand the street pattern of New York as we crossed and wandered along streets that until then had just been places in movies and books: 42nd Street, Times Square, and 5th Avenue to name a few.



The medical appointment worked swiftly and efficiently with pathology done on the spot and an antibiotic prescription provided. We headed to the drug store where there was no obvious queue but an obvious lethargy. We sat for about half an hour while the prescription was filled; watched a few quintessential New York characters from central casting come and go; and, were open mouthed when we were asked to hand over $180 for 9 tablets. Welcome to the American health system. We had insurance, needed the loot and payed up.



We spent a few fabulous hours at the Museum of Modern Art and then Bas slept. I roamed Times Square and surrounds into the early evening. The vibrancy is really too difficult for this once a year blogger to describe.

Bas was a little better next day and headed off to his appointment with the director at Denise’s Kasof’s access workshop. I took in the wonderful views from “Top of the Roc” (the Rockefeller Centre), passed a talent line up at Radio City and strolled happily through Central Park thinking what a family-friendly and peaceful place it was. I later read the New York crime statistics for the week and learned that Central Park was currently suffering from a spate of violent crime during the day.

As I headed back to our hotel along 5th Avenue- someone (noticing that I was looking like a local already) asked me directions to St Patricks Cathedral. Somehow I knew it was on 5th Avenue so as a local I pointed her ahead and followed. Serendipity surrounded me and I arrived right on noon for the half hour sung liturgy and lots of others joined me. Wonderful.

We navigated the subway to Pearl Paints ( Bas’ equivalent of my saints) mid-afternoon. Pearl is the largest supply shop in America for artists. He had been there when he was in America in the mid-nineties and spoke of it as a printmaker’s paradise. It seemed a bit down on its luck. Its 5 floors could not be serviced by a broken elevator (the stairs tested our resolve) and the supplies on the shelves looked a bit like those at an outback store before the supply truck has come in.

We navigated the subway again to our Barrow Street off Broadway production of “Our Town”. We sat in Washington Square on the way and soaked up its buskers, its shade and its atmosphere. The production of “Our Town” was simply outstanding for its intimacy and ensemble acting.

It was a fast and furious visit and we barely scratched the skin of the big apple, however, it was wonderful. Early next day we were back at JFK to head to Athens and thence to while away week one on Skopelos.

“Welcome to America: We cannot take your customs card from your hand if you have it in your mouth”

In the week before the week Australia wooed a new Prime Minister and we whiled away week one on Skopelos, we were not whiling away time in New York.

We think it took about 31 hours travel to get there. It was Darwin to Singapore to London to New York.

The Singapore to London highlight was getting an aisle and a middle seat after we’d clearly booked two aisle seats months ago. Bas stoically took the middle seat all the way in a sandwich between me on the aisle and a guy on the window ultimately heading home to Manchester.

The London to New York highlight was the crew that John West had definitely rejected. We were pretty much thrown our food from a great height. Bas used the experience to devise a new international measure for customer service (it can be used in restaurants too) called the HAT index (Height Above Table). Basically the theory behind the measure is that the rating for customer service can be measured in inverse proportion to the height from which your food is thrown at you, that is, the higher the height, the lower the customer service score and the lower the height, the higher the customer service score. Try it out- it can work in all sorts of customer service situations.

A woman sitting in front of us asked for the special dietary meal she’d ordered. She was told loudly and clearly that she had not ordered a special meal; that the only special meal on the plane was a kosher meal for someone down the back and that she should take any complaints to the head flight attendant. She did raise it with the head flight attendant who had obviously missed out on the training session about dealing with passengers’ needs in flight, as she told the woman that she could not have possibly have ordered a special meal because it was not on board. The passenger eventually procured a cup of tea and what looked like some dry biscuits to sustain her for the seven hour flight.

We landed at JFK airport and heard the announcement “Welcome to America: We cannot take your customs card from your hand if you have it in your mouth”. Seems obvious really.

We were met in that busy, bustling terminal by Allan Kasof (and his neighbour Guy) who drove our somewhat tired selves on the freeway to Long Island where Denise Kasof also welcomed us to their beautiful home with stunning garden backing on to woodland. Denise is an etcher and art collector. We snoozed a bit then woke to the sounds of dinner starting downstairs with about 12 members of the New York Society of Etchers. It was a great evening and Bas put on an energetic (and enthusiastically received) ‘slide’ show about his work in Australia. The company was warm and we dined on fantastically fresh food, French wine and grappa. We must have stayed awake on adrenalin.

From my perspective it was like sitting courtside at a professional tennis match with passionate international words and conversations being hit back and forth around intaglio, dry point, soft ground, aquatints, woodcuts, engraving, flat beds, rollers, mezzotints, monotypes, plate marks, and registers.

Next morning saw an early dawn on another warm day and us at 11am sitting around the square table in the kitchen for a “classic New York” brunch of bagels, salmon, eggs, and leftovers from the previous evening. We were joined by neighbours Guy and Brian. Our fellow brunchees had all travelled to Australia and were very enthusiastic about its landscape and energy. It was just one of those lovely travel experiences where we engaged in a 3 hour conversation covering all taboo topics spiced with lots of laughter. We wandered next door to Guy and Brian’s home where not only was there the best bathroom and walk in wardrobe I’ve ever seen, but where the art on the walls represented a serious investment in Australia practitioners.

It was warm enough that evening to eat outside in the garden featured in the photos and it was just about time to conclude our time in New York where we were looked after by others. Next day we were to be minnows in Manhattan.

While Australia wooed a new Prime Minister we whiled away week one on Skopelos

Each evening between about 5pm and 8pm the cobbled street below our current home, Blue Shutters House, hosts its nightly choir of words in the cool of the early evening after a generally warm day. There is no obvious choir conductor but the choir members are talking, talking, talking and only the rise, fall and pace of the voices seems to indicate happiness or not with the day’s business. Occasionally there is the richest loud laughter.
It’s a magic place. This week we were joined in our island home by Robbie and her friends Nancy and Beth and their friends Matt and Renee stayed a few days at another establishment before heading to nearby Alonisos.
We all met in Athens on Friday the 18th of June. We all arrived at different times by plane to a public transport strike and our subsequent taxi fares to the Hotel Tempe in the city varied between 30-40 euro. We all shared war stories about who had the craziest taxi driver.
The tavernas were all in the grip of World Cup fever before Greek elimination but we found a great location with very average food score on a roof top under the Acropolis. Dawn next day saw us on the march to our bus stop for our bus/ferry experience to the island via Agios Konstantinos. In great contrast to the quiet dawn scene, bus loads of riot police were gathering on street corners in anticipation of another mass demonstration.
In the last week, days have been spent variously:
• taking the steep walk to the blue blue water at Glifoneri where you pass shrines and houses with cherries in trays drying on covered verandahs, and you meet the local man at the beach who provides you with some of his apricots as he peddles his 5 euro a day beach chairs and umbrellas;
• having a very slow lunch (siga siga) at Stella’s taverna half way up the hill, where no matter what you order Stella seems to decide what she’ll provide for you ;
• driving down to the perfect pebbled beach at Glisteri where sustenance can be had in the courtyard of a postcard – like taverna;
• sailing with Vasili on his yacht through the marine park with dolphins diving around us and stopping at secluded bays for a swim in crystal clear water;
• walking around the old town in the cool of dawn, following the steep whitewashed slopes and seeing all the local gardeners tending the in-season produce in their vegetable gardens;
• drinking expresso coffee and eating pastry at the harbourside;
• experiencing wonderfully slow post office service at 7.31am as the first customers for the day;
• driving on fire tracks in the middle of the island to climb to the Mumma Mia wedding church (Agios Ioannis) where there were lots more tourists than when we ‘discovered’ it in 2006 and where now a couple of entrepreneurial Greeks have set a makeshift caravan style taverna;
• and, eating and swimming at beautiful Milia beach where Rob had a brief encounter with an small octopus which was keen to meet her.

In the last week, nights have been spent variously:
• enjoying two fabulous welcome parties-one up the hill at the print studio and one at its neighbour’s house in his vineyard. There was food to die for, including meat cooked on a traditional wood fired oven, Skopelos goat cheese, and home made wine with no ill effects next day;
• experiencing a huge storm that came on while we were in the vineyard which necessitated a move to a covered verandah where Greek dancing just seemed the right thing to do;
• savouring the delights of tsiporo with food at a taverna;
• watching the young and not-so-young head off to night club land to emerge very slowly next day;
• celebrating Bas’ birthday on several occasions;
• watching the dramas of the World Cup at the harbourside on a big screen; and
• watching the change of Prime Minister in Australia on an I-phone.
Throughout the week Bas’ artists have arrived on the island in different sized parties with various stories about good and bad travel experiences to date. Bas had some major dramas getting his etching plates through Greek customs but all emerged at some cost in the nick of time.
The girls have left for Australia via Athens and Dubai and I’m just back from the beach at Glisteri where Basil had yet another birthday party on his real birthday.
We’ll keep you posted.