One more thing

we have to talk about, New York:

Coffee.

Coffee is a brewerage you are not supposed to be able to look through. Especially not 5 millimeters. This kind of beweverage you can look into and see the bottom of the cup is either called tea or jus de chaussettes.

That coffee in the US tastes like the later one of course only fits the looks but come on guys: You can do better than this! It’s easy. Just make it black. B-L-A-C-K = no looking into, smooth surface, that’s it.

It probably won’t taste much better but at least the guy next to me in the restaurant won’t insinst on being served from the other pot because he thought I had taken tea…

Are you kidding me?

Plastic cuttlery… In the breakfast room of a rather fashionable hotel, five minutes from Central Park, everything they got is plastic dishes, plastic forks, plastic knives???

Has anybody seen Idiocracy out there? The way that road starts is with plastic cuttlery. So will you please, please stop it?

Thank you.

New York

WOW… What a cool city. I’m not  sure that I would want to live there but it is amazing. The mix of old*, new, pretty, ugly, shiny, loud, lively, hectic, green, sun, dirty and people everywhere is just breathtaking.

Even though there was not too much free time – being there as a part of my MBA programme – I still had the impression of seeing a fair deal of the city. No, I did not go to a musical (random singing during a play has always irritated me), neither on the top of the Empire State Building. But, we had a sightseeing tour, we walked over Brooklyn Bridge and through China Town, had a jazz session in Lincoln Center and heard stories from Wall Street, the media and much more.

New York really gives the impression of being a city that never sleeps. It must be just as enriching as exhausting to live there. All the influences from all parts of the world to thrive on but also the never ending noise and frenzy. In the end, what remains are impressions, images and moments. And the realisation that I’m not done discovering this city yet.

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All pictures by: Lura

* comparatively of course. The guide called St. Patrick’s Church (1877) an old building. Our group of European folks had a good laugh.

U.S.A

After a third of what I reasonably expect to be my lifetime; it was about time to visit the United States of America. Actually, New York to be more precise which we were told in advance is not quite representative for the rest of the country.

What is certainly representative was the reception at the airport. Apparently the people sitting their behind the counters and checking passports and visa, are not allowed to talk, smile or blink. Only give signs of right hand (for scan), right thumb (for scan), left hand (you get the picture)… Speaking in border control terms, I felt more welcome in Russia where I was told in advance that smiling at the person behind the counter was not a good idea.

What helped was the chatting with the girl in the taxi queue. She did say “Welcome to New York” and smiled. Nothing anybody at the hotel reception would make the mistake to repeat.

Having managed that bit, I came, saw and was amazed.

Pictures by Lura

Street art in BXL

image

Not sure what it’s meant to be. And by the time of writing this post, weather and idiots haven’t left much of it. Still it does have a certain something. As we would say in German.

Brazil – Fim de jornada

Do you know this feeling when every day appears to be longer but still 14 days seem to be less than 2 weeks? When your memory is filled with so many impressions that you don’t even know where to start? When the return to your ‘normal’ life feels really hard because the journey was so beautiful?

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It’s the price to pay. Though it really is not too high.

Sao Paolo

It seems that Sao Paolo is about the last place one would want to live in Brazil. And it’s not exactly difficult to see why. It is but one huge sea of concrete. That the summer on the coast is the worst in years – Belgian style: 20° and rain – and that the main (inofficial) attraction of Sao Paulo is the Avenida Paulista, a shopping street, made things only worse.

Still, I met friends who kept on insisting that Sao Paulo is the best city to live in in Brazil and took us to nice areas to go out. It’s not too far from the beach which in return is close to the biggest Brazilian harbour. One can see passing one container vessel after the other and imagine what the water quality might be like.

It probably won’t have been the last time, I visited this city. But I do feel that I’ll have to make a particular effort to find a few more advantages in its favour. Enfin, pourquoi pas?