Undiscovered New York: Romance in the Big Apple

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Given that this Saturday is Valentine’s Day, it’s only fitting that we dedicate this week’s Undiscovered New York to a closer look at some of the city’s most amorous locations.

At first sight New York (especially in February) can seem a vast, cold and lonely place. But this initial impression held by many visitors is an oversimplification. Delve beneath the “hard” exterior of pushy, fast moving New Yorkers and you’ll discover a city of warmth and surprises that spring from just about every corner. In other words, New York is the perfect place to explore and uncover with that “special someone.”

But once you’ve taken the carriage ride around Central Park and been to the observation deck of the Empire State Building for your Sleepless in Seattle moment (I swear, I’ve never seen it), what else is there do? A city this big is bound to have dark corners, fabulous panoramic views, and hidden activities where you and that special someone can spend some quality time alone, right? And what about the staunchly single? What’s there to do that’s not overly cheesy and romantic? Step inside Undiscovered New York’s guide to “Romance” in the Big Apple, plus a special guide for the “proudly unattached” at the end of today’s post.
Drinking the Night Away
New Yorkers are the first to admit – nothing loosens the tongue and warms the heart better than a good alcoholic beverage. And befitting a city of its size and scope, New York has some astoundingly good candle-lit cocktail lounges where you can sip an artfully crafted beverage with the one you love. Here’s three of our favorites:

  • Angel’s Share – inside an unassuming Japanese restaurant in the East Village, up a flight of stairs, through a huge throng of tables and past a side door is Angel’s Share. This Japanese cocktail lounge, which specializes in artfully crafted cocktails made from scratch with fresh ingredients, practically guarantees you a romantic night out. If it’s not too crowded make sure to ask for a table near the windows to watch the symphony of life pass by below.
  • Temple Bar – perfectly hidden on busy Lafayette Street, Temple Bar beckons visitors inside with a sumptuous wood paneled interior and lush, moody lighting. Though not particularly well announced outside (the only clue giving it away is a metal lizard and tiny sign), the interior and bar’s expertly blended drinks seem to speak for themselves (and for your date).
  • Apotheke – down a non-descript sidestreet in Chinatown behind a inconspicuous door lies Apotheke, a parlor of artfully blended cocktails arranged around an antique drug store theme. Apotheke seems to carry the cure for whatever might ail you – behind the bar sit hundreds of bottles special blended herbal concotions and flavor-infused liquors, perfect for that totally unique cocktail and that totally unique Valentine’s Day.

Taking in the View
Nothing better embodies the unique feeling of a “New York moment” better than its many panoramic vistas. Whether viewing the city laid out from atop one of its many skyscrapers or confronting it head-on from the perspective of one of the many sweeping harborside views, you’re sure to be confronted with a scene that both inspires and delights. Here’s where you can do it best:

  • Brooklyn Heights Promenade – one of the most stunning views in all of Manhattan can only be seen from Brooklyn, at the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. This stunning walkway runs along the Brooklyn waterfront, affording visitors with amazing views of New York Harbor, the Statue of Liberty, downtown Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge. It has to be seen to be believed.
  • The Rainbow Room – high atop New York’s famous Rockefeller Center sits one of the more amazing vistas of New York at the Rainbow Room. Sure, the drink prices are ridiculous. Yeah, the music might be cheesy. And yes, the property’s future might be in danger. But you know what? When you see that vista of all of downtown New York laid out before you, glittering in the twilight, it can make up for a multitude of sins.
  • Staten Island Ferry – 25 minute trip to Staten Island, one of New York’s least visited areas? Free. 2 bottles of Corona beer? $6. An amazing, trip around New York Harbor? Priceless.

Unexpected Activities
Sure, February 14th is supposed to be all about love. But those of us not so lucky to be partnered or still feverishly pursuing that special someone might feel a bit left out so far. Here’s a few unique New York activities for non-believers and lovebirds alike:

  • Chelsea Flower District – along a short two block stretch of West 28th Street is the Chelsea Flower District, New York’s principal business area for the wholesaling of floral and fake floral products. Nothing better embodies the gritty industrial charm and symbolic weirdness of Valentine’s Day than a visit to this odd street. Stop by early any morning (6-8am) and you’ll be confronted by huge bouquets of exotic flowers, the manic activity of shop workers and the rusted facades of fading floral shop storefronts. It’s a fun commentary on the meaning of romance and an interesting sidetrip if you’re looking for something different.
  • Museum of Sex – everyone might say Valentine’s Day is about love. But let’s face it, New Yorkers like to get to the point – it’s really about sex. And what better way to explore your carnal desires (or lack thereof) than a visit to New York’s Museum of Sex? The museum’s permanent collection houses over 15,000 “sex artifacts” including everything from art to photography to clothing and costumes as well as an extensive “multimedia library” (euphemism anyone?) of sexually related material. Perfect for partners and perverts alike.

A Canadian in Beijing: Lone, Blond, Lady-in-Waiting

by Ember Swift on

Alright, so I know that I look different than most of the people here. I know that I carry with me enormous privilege with my white skin, English language and light-coloured hair (to name a few). I know that this privilege is my responsibility to recognize and acknowledge; it is the lens through which I am seen, no matter how “Chinese” I feel while I’m here. It is always with me and always will be. I also know that I am given great advantages, globally, as a result of this privilege and that any kind of complaint may well contradict this statement of acknowledgement.

But. . .

Here in China, I have experienced my first real taste of the disadvantage of difference. It’s high time I did. This white girl needed a dose of reality, I say. Bring it on.

Well, okay maybe in small doses. It’s good for the consciousness and hard on the spirit.

I was waiting for my friend to arrive at our meeting place before attending a concert at the Forbidden City Concert Hall. This is a beautiful venue located right downtown, across from Tian’anmen Square and next to the Imperial Palace. It’s the Beijing equivalent to Massey Hall (Toronto) or Carnegie Hall (New York) and I was done up to match the environment. I wore a new dress and some fancy shoes and went all-out so as not to look like a scruffy musician (for once).

I arrived by subway five minutes early and slowly made my way up to the entrance to the Imperial Palace – a logical choice for a meeting place as the huge poster of Chairman Mao is widely known. We were meeting “just under Mao” and the political double entendre made me smile.

My bright red dress looked good last night, I have to say. I was proud of my outfit and felt like I had scrubbed up rather well and would have no trouble blending into the highbrow theatre-going community. I strolled along and took some photos and just as I arrived I received a call from my friend (who I was meeting) who was stuck in traffic. He said he’d be about ten more minutes.

There I was, alone and surrounded by tourists (mostly all Chinese) who found me to be a great source of interest and delight. One young girl approached me and asked me for a photo with her. She was beside herself when I smiled and responded in Chinese. I know that she wanted a picture because I am a a white and blond foreigner (who was in a pretty dress). She kept saying “ni hen piao liang!” (you’re pretty!) and I found myself just slipping into my performer mode. I posed with her for a photo just as I would if a fan asked me for one after a gig. I also seized the opportunity to ask her to take a picture of me in return and she did. Then, she and her mother left with a wave and a smile.

Seconds later, a large group of people from a different province (because their accent was different to my ears) got very excited by me and started to point and laugh. They started taking pictures of me without asking and then came over to me with a small child in tow and motioned that they were going to take my picture, as though I were a circus trick or a street performer stationed there. There was much talking and not a single kind word was actually said to me; they were just surrounding me like I was a fixture for their amusement. I said “bu yao” which means “no” or a more polite way of saying “get lost” (literally: don’t want) and then I walked away from them and turned my back. I could hear the cameras anyway. I turned around and said, “that’s not polite!” but I think I got the words in the wrong order because they didn’t seem to register my meaning and just snapped a picture of my angry face and acted like my turning around and their successful shot was the equivalent to winning the lottery with their cameras.

I was very flustered by this point and felt totally vulnerable there. . . alone. . . in a dress.

Then, this young man sauntered up to me with a sticky smirk on his face. He thrust a pamphlet into my hand and got much closer to me than I’ve experienced with men here in China. He asked me if I’d gone to the Great Wall (in Chinese) and I answered him that yes, I had gone and I didn’t need the pamphlet, all the while backing away from him. His buddies joined him then and suddenly there were about ten young men around me all talking to me at once. I was answering them when they asked me questions while simultaneously looking for my escape. I eventually backed right into the white stone railing of the bridge behind me before realizing that I couldn’t go any farther in that direction.

Other people were looking on like it was some sort of spectacle. Surely they’ve seen white people speaking Chinese before! But it wasn’t just that. I was a lone, white, blond woman in a fancy dress and I was creating quite a hubbub of exuberance in these young men, joking and remarking and pushing each other, that it was enough to start to draw a small crowd of onlookers.

For the first time since arriving in China, I felt really unsafe and scared. I haven’t felt that way in so long.

I think this is why I rarely wear dresses.

I pushed through and past the group to break free of the cluster and then I started to quickly make my way back to the sidewalk closer to the road. When I did that, they laughed like I was a great big joke and I heard them commenting on my tattoo when I turned my back on them.

As I walked, I dialed my friend Rui on my cell phone, fuming mad (my typical response to fear) to ask him how to say “F*** OFF!” in Chinese. This is a very forward question here and to explain my angry tone, I told him what was happening and he taught me the word immediately. Then he offered to stay on the phone with me for a while until my friend arrived. I was relieved by this very logical suggestion and people miraculously left me alone as I was talking and so we chatted for about ten minutes before I realized that I was running out of battery power. I had to hang up because I didn’t want to be without a cell signal while my theatre date was still late (now twenty minutes) and possibly couldn’t find me in the crowds.

Suddenly, the guards all lined up and started their formation for the flag lowering ceremony which apparently takes place on both the Tian’anmen Square side and the side I was on (gugong) and so it is a popular time to visit the entrance to the Imperial Palace. I had mistakenly timed my arrival with this daily ritual, which suddenly explained the ballooning crowds.

They corralled us into two groups, east and west, and I found myself pushed with the herd to the east side. I got a call from the friend I was meeting and he had arrived on the west side; we were impossibly close but I had no idea how I would cross the barricades to get to his side of the entrance. He had a good idea, though, and he rushed through the underground walkways and arrived up on my side about ten minutes later, apologizing profusely.

I was just happy to see him and excited to shift the energy of the evening to a more relaxed, less stressful vibe. I smiled and took a deep breath. Right on cue, my cell phone died.

It was time to go to the theatre.

In my dress.

Proudly.