WEDNESDAY 13th. DAY 6......POINTLESS

Two days in New York and what to do? There is so much. The city, dived up into its usually straight avenues and streets going either Uptown or Downtown and East to West, make it virtually impossible to get lost, unlike one of the other great NYC institutions.....The Subway.

Now let's be serious for a moment, in 1969, this Nation placed not one but two men on the moon. So how come, 45 years later they have still failed to redesign, in any way, their Subway system? The Tube in London looks as if it has been designed by a super being by comparison. I'll start with the basics...mapping. The good old underground map as designed by " Harry Beck in 1931, stands head and shoulders above any other in the world by all accounts, except those who have merely mirrored its simplicity. Only a fool would try to follow the NYC subway map and understand its logic. And fools we were.

In our defence the only map we had, I had ripped from a hotel information brochure  the night before. This showed not only the stations, but street names, places of interest and districts. In tiny print. It was incomprehensible. Not to worry I thought, there will be maps ON the subways to help us out. No. Not even in the cars. Until later when we happened, after a detour to Brooklyn, upon a new 'state of the art' car. Not only did they have announcements between every stop but also ...wait for it....an individual line map IN the car so you could see what stops are coming up. Upon reading The Metro the next day, it turned out that this was a 'new innovation', one for which the New Yorkies were proudly slapping themselves on the Beck, sorry, back.

However, I digress away from my rookie error story which takes place during the aforementioned Brooklyn detour. To set the scene.......The NY subway is one hell of a place, almost literally. The carriages or 'cars' are air conditioned, but the rest of it is not. As you descend  from the poorly marked street level stations down narrow, tiled dimly lit steps, you are buffeted by a blast of hot air. It's as if you have opened the door of your local sauna and stepped inside. At least then you would be naked. Yesterday we were wearing rain gear against the storms that were rocking the city. And the temperature rises as we descended to a hellish place of utter claustrophobia. And it's dark., gloomy, grimy and old.  My friend JD would be running for the hills immediately.he gets a panic on in a small lift in Göteborg.  Sweat started to drip from every pore of my forehead and I could feel it running down the middle of my back underneath my t-shirt for good measure.. As usual Trish looked as if she had just walked out of an air conditioned room but Merlin was sharing my experience but redder in the face.

Our goal was The New Jersey Ferry and according to The Map, it looked straightforward, take the green line Downtown. Trouble was that when the train arrived there was no sign on the front what line it was on or where it was going. We just got on. Big mistake. We ended up having to change not only trains but lines within a station as well. At this point in our journey I would have challenged Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes, 3rd Baronet, OBE, commonly known as Ranulph Fiennes,  English adventurer and holder of several endurance records  to find his way. We wandered around following illogical signs until a disdainful  station official had to TAKE us to the right platform, like lost  children on a school trip.

Coming back was even worse. We wanted to visit Greenwich Village and managed to get there alright. A direct line. But then we needed to get Uptown. Merlin was in favour of asking people. The question was easy. 'Which is the next  train that will take us take us Uptown?' Easy eh? Standby for rookie mistake. When asking people it is vital to select someone who looks as if they might know but here in this melting pot of locals, tourists, non English speakers and nutters, they might look as if they know but......

It has to be said here that Merlin, full of advice, wasn't keen to do the asking, falling back on his lack of ability in English. That has never stopped him before over the 45 years we have known each other, in the bars and clubs of various countries. Maybe it was the type of question he had to ask, as he always seemed to be comfortable in other kinds of matters and with their preceding questions. Often with some considerable success.

First victim was a Chinese guy. He didn't even speak English. I then saw a likely target, a young teenage lad standing on his own gazing at his cell phone. I approached and asked the simple question, 'which train goes Uptown'? He was thus presented with a choice of two tracks. He turned and spoke. As he did so I immediately knew, through years of teaching experience, that the vacant look in his eyes represented a brain otherwise engaged, and not on the subject in hand. Pointing to the nearest track he mumbled  (another two clues there) 'that one, change at Union'. At that point I should have known better but I was hot, hot,hot and sweaty too and the train, with its air conditioned cars calling me, clattered into the station at that very moment. I was sold. We all jumped on.

Brooklyn is like Deptford in London. Our Charlotte used to live there. However that's where the supposedly Uptown train deposited us. Not even Downtown but Across town, across The Hudson, over a bridge and East. Unlike Deptford, Brooklyn is beginning to get a better rep for itself as has another area of NYC, Harlem. But it looked as if it was  going to be a slow process as we clambered down the rusty staircase, across the potholed road below the rusty iron track supports, where I envisaged many a car chase or drug deal had gone down and up the equally rickety and rusty staircase to the return platform. So much for Mr. Vacant.

It was then we all accepted that we were involved in a game of Russian Roulette subway style. We submissively got on the next train back and waited to see where it would take us, like lemmings to the slaughter. If the logic was that a train from the opposite platform of two would go back the way we came, we should be alright. But logic does not apply to the New York Metro. Not in any shape or form. We were finding that out the hard way.