Day Twelve - International Center for Photography

Got the train down to Bower to go the International Center for Photography, but first - of course - coffee. Today’s courtesy of the Lazy Llama (72 E 1st St). 10/10 Really, really good coffee.

The walk from the coffee shop to the ICP was chock full of street art.

We finally found the ICP. Great photos by Arbus, Parks, etc.

“Cornell Capa founded ICP in 1974 to preserve the legacy of “concerned photography”—the creation of socially and politically minded images that have the potential to educate and change the world—and the center’s mission endures today, even as the photographic medium and imagemaking practices have evolved. Through its exhibitions, school, public programs, and community outreach, ICP offers an open forum for dialogue about the role that photographs, videos, and new media play in our society. To date, it has presented more than 700 exhibitions and offered thousands of classes at every level. ”

— https://www.icp.org/about

Day Nine - Canal Street, Brooklyn

First stop was down to 42nd street, then the Q train to Canal Street.

A guy called Casey Neistat has his office/creative space down there and he has a staggering 11,000,000 subscribers on YouTube. Then - unsurprisingly - a coffee. The coffee gets 8/10. You can read more about their work at www.thinkcoffee.com.

Onwards up Canal Street towards the bridge.

I had a nice chat to this cop. Having dealt with politics he said; “You should never discuss two topics. Politics and religion.” So, I asked him about religion. Obviously. He carries a picture of Jesus around.

He said there were more churches in Brooklyn than anywhere else. I’ve not fact-checked that.

En-route to the bridge we came across a Catholic church. They do like their kitsch. They’re the Coney Island of religions.

The length of the Brooklyn Bridge was walked. The photo below is five different exposures so could remove the traffic (if you’re interested).

Into Brooklyn and first things first. A hotdog. A big sloppy, delicious mess of a thing.

Once into Brooklyn we looked for the famous road that points directly to Manhattan bridge.

We ended the day at the Flatiron Building. I went to do a long exposure but didn’t have my tripod so this was my attempt by balancing it on something.

Day Four - Coffee Hunt

I get the feeling that New York thinks it’s good at coffee. That they’ve totally nailed it. New York you really, really haven’t. So many shops offering every variety of coffee and all of it insipid. Do you want to know the best coffee I’ve had in the last few days? Starbucks. Cheap, couple of bucks, freshly-brewed Starbucks. You probably didn’t want to read that. I sure as anything didn’t want to type it, but there we are. A plan for the day is to find some passable coffee. Also, to find some to bring back to the house. Back here there’s a jar of Nescafe instant which is undrinkable and some filter stuff which is so weak it makes water taste strong.

With such much coffee being bad I can (almost) see why so many people have guns here. At the morning shop I picked up some Bustelo. Nope, still not good. I tried it black. Better, but not great. If it kills me I WILL find some good coffee.

I shall put the question to Facebook and see which coffee people suggest.

In the meantime I had a Dunkin’ Donuts Coffee (Yes, I know). 2/10. The staff had t-shirts on the back of which was written: “Dunkin’ Girl Scouts” which feels like it could have benefited from better phrasing.

A morning of walking round the local area of Hamilton Heights.

The train down the Ghostbuster’s HQ (aka Ladder 8) because, you know, it ‘d be rude not to.

Grabbed a slice of 99 cents pizza. Bargain.

We then ambled over to Greenwich Village and had a coffee at a juice bar - whatever a juice bar is. The Coffee was 7/10 (I think you want to know).

Max wandered off to look at clothes and we went to the Mysterious Bookshop which sounded interesting. As much as it was a cool bookshop, it was dedicated to the mystery genre. I mean there was a clue in the name, and for all the detective novels in there I wasn’t obviously wasn’t one..

We met back up with Max at the World Trade Centre. An impressive place. We went home, and he went to pick up Jack from the airport.