Tiny streaks of white speed boat spray across the broad Hudson River as we flew over more land than I had ever flown over before. It was 1998 and I was on my way to America for the very first time.
Huge trucks, bandit style raced past us on the highway. Rows and rows of traffic and hot tarmac snaking off into the distance. Billboards loomed above me, smiling faces, whiter than white teeth and mile high telephone numbers. Call me, buy me.
I was in the South, Memphis Tennessee, living inside every movie I had seen growing up. Everything so familiar on screen, so alien in person.
I can't say I fell in love. Although, it left me with a strange yearning for Red Lobster's cheese and garlic biscuits.
That all changed in December 2004. I landed in Manhattan.
Big.
Skyscrapers.
Dizzy spinning in circles.
People.
So many people.
Shouldn't they be bursting into song randomly like the movies? Shouldn't I?
Steam from the streets.
Yellow taxis.
Cold breath exhaled in puffs of white.
Spinning and spinning so much to see.
Lights.
In Times Square,
On Broadway.
Painted across my upturned face.
I fell in love, and I fell hard.
By the time this posts I will be back in America. We are heading to the South (the Carolinas this time), to celebrate the milestone birthday of a beloved friend. On our way back to Amsterdam we will be spending a few days in Manhattan, me and the husband, in a city we both love but have never explored together.
I can't wait.
STONE SOUP, LLC
6 months ago
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