NYC: High and Mighty

As expected, the heat continued yesterday. Again, I tried to take it easy, ambling slowly up Broadway to Central Park where I ate a salad and basked in the sun. After a bit of shopping and a manicure, I caught the subway back downtown and read on the hotel's rooftop for a while until it was time for dinner.

We ate at The Spotted Pig in the West Village, an English-influenced gastropub I've been meaning to try for a while. I should have resisted the burger option but it sounded too good, although I had to order it without roquefort. And it was worth it; possibly the best burger of the trip so far, very juicy and tender. The shoestring fries it came with were very salty but tasty and more-ish. 

We started with a few oysters, which, along with a fruity cocktail (Pimm's-based in my case, naturally) made a refreshing start to the meal. It was also quite amusing watching the American waiter explaining the menu (specifically, faggots) to two Brits. I declined the offer of a PG Tips.

We decided to take advantage of the second longest day of the year—and the sunshine—by going to the High Line for sunset. It was still very hot and humid, but we did our best to chill out. There were roaming musicians to keep us entertained, but one of my favourite things to do on the High Line is people watching, so we did plenty of that too.

Despite being full, I managed to find room for a peanut butter gelato. Tough job, but someone's got to do it...

NYC: If You Can't Stand the Heat...

...seek solace in the air con. That was my plan yesterday, and by 10.45, I was already storming through Duane Reade in search of the coconut water that is being advertised all over town. The last time I was in New York when it was this hot was 1995 and only for a couple of days en route to more rural locations.

I tried to ensure that I was never too far from a shop or espresso bar (not difficult in this city), but somehow ended up very hot and fuzzy by the afternoon and was sorely tempted to join the people bathing in the fountain in Washington Square Park. Still, I enjoyed my macchiato in the lovely courtyard garden out the back of Saturdays Surf on Crosby Street, and although lunch at tiny, Aussie caff Ruby's, on Mulberry, wasn't air conditioned, it was breezy and cool inside and my Bondi burger (chicken, salad and sweet chilli mayo on ciabatta) was delicious.

There was no sign of any cool-off after office hours, and we sheltered for a drink in Anotheroom in TriBeca. The barman assured us it was usually packed, but I guess everyone was in a fountain somewhere.

Dinner at Smith and Mills, on North Moore Street, didn't disappoint either. It's a lovely, tiny neighbourhood restaurant with a handful of tables and a very cool bar. We lingered over our refreshing cocktails (mine involved Pimm's), before I devoured a burger (with white cheddar, caramelised onions and homemade crisps). The menu was creative and fun—the lemon cheesecake we shared for pudding seemed to contain about 15 different fruity ingredients beyond the lemon—and it's a nice place to hang out, intimate and low key.

 Sadly, it was still scorchio when we walked home at 10.30 and today is supposed to be even hotter—record-breaking, even. Eek. This is probably the one time I'm craving a swimming pool in New York!

NYC: Good Morning, Manhattan

The temperature in New York today is going to be scorchio. In fact, it was already 26 C when I left for my run at about 9 am. Probably not the best day for strenuous activity, then, but it was so sunny...

I had planned to get the subway to Borough Hall, run along the promenade at Columbia Heights, over Brooklyn Bridge and then back up to Houston Street via the East River bike path. The subway was being crap, however, so I got off at Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall on the Manhattan side instead, ran over Brooklyn Bridge and along the promenade and then back again. By that point, I was so hot, I decided to skip the East River and just run back to my shower and air con via Chinatown.

Yesterday was full of assorted adventures (and shopping) but I'll write more about those anon, because now I'm in need of a macchiato.

NYC: A Rooftop with a View

Well, after a flight that landed well before its scheduled arrival time, we made it to our hotel in New York by 2 pm yesterday—just in time to get settled and then go for a wander through SoHo, pause for coffee at Ground Support and then enjoy some live music in Washington Square Park before getting an early dinner at Lombardi's. 

Surprisingly, given its reputation as one of the best pizzerias in the city — if not the world — I've never been to Lombardi's before. 'Best pizza' is a hard prize to award but suffice to say, the margherita and a side of meatballs were very tasty.

One of the best things about our hotel is its rooftop terrace  on the seventh floor, which has an amazing view of the city, including the Empire State Building, the Chrysler and the Freedom Tower. We took some refreshments up there last night and sat and watches the sunset. It's definitely a feature that many pricier hotels in the city would envy.

After free breakfast in the hotel (bagels! Pastries! Granola bars! Fruit!), I'm off to the shops. J. Crew, it's been way too long...

What's in my (NYC) Suitcase?

I feel like I have been doing a lot of travelling over the past six weeks or so — not that I'm complaining — and today I'm heading off to Manhattan. I haven't been since last September, over nine months ago, and I'm very excited to be going again for a whole week. We'll be staying in the NoLIta/Lower East Side area and the weather is looking good: hot and sunny all week, with Wednesday and Thursday potentially reaching 35 degrees. 

Scorchio indeed. I'm using the same suitcase as for my Istanbul trip, my carry-on-size purple spotted Kipling case, which I will check in, but I'm taking a bigger bag, namely Mitzy, as my carry-on. These are the clothes I'm bringing:

Top left: two cardigans (royal blue from Mango, heather grey from J. Crew); black blazer (Zara); two scarves (pink jersey from French Connection, royal blue from Galeries Lafayette); three pairs of shoes (black ballet flats from Banana Republic, nude ballet flats from Minelli, tan leather flip flops from Steve Madden). 

Top right: four dresses (orange floral and coral lace from Tesco, grey jersey from J. Crew, black jersey from TopShop). 

Bottom left: four tops (purple vest from Uniqlo, pink cami from J. Crew, bright pink top from Anthro, teal top from Anthro); gym kit (top and skort from Lululemon, sports bra from Nike, Asics trainers from Sweaty Betty, bikini from H&M). 

Bottom right: two skirts (polka dots from H&M, royal blue from TopShop); shorts from Miss Selfridge. My undies are already packed.

There are enough outfit combinations for my trip in there; I will probably also buy some new clothes while I am out there, as I am wont to do. I packed a bikini because our hotel has a rooftop terrace, which I'm really looking forward to using, especially if it is going to be so scorching.

My toiletries and make-up are pretty much the same as for my Turkey trip, although I've got some new sun cream and travel shampoo and conditioner. For jewellery, I'm taking three necklaces (purple and gold pendant and gold star from Market NYC, turquoise from a street vendor in SoHo), two pairs of earrings (my Kate Spade signature spade studs and a pair of turquoise drops from Aspire), a new pink and gold ring from Portobello Road, and all of my recent bracelet haul. I keep my jewellery and assorted bits and bobs in the turquoise Tumi travel wristlet, which has lots of pockets and compartments.

Again, the 'miscellaneous' section of my suitcase is similar to that of my Istanbul packing list, so I didn't bother including my sunglasses, wallet, iPhone and so on. I have my tech kit (iPad, chargers, converter, SD card iPad converter and a new GorillaPod), a sleep mask, my small pink Longchamp tote, my purple Longchamp purse for my US currency and cards, reading matter (book for the plane--and several more on my iPad — and my New York Moleskine city guide and a few other quirky guide maps), a small pink water bottle and a brolly — just in case.

A Very Scandi Scandal

If you are looking for a fun, light-hearted movie to round off the weekend, don't go to see Nikolaj Arcel's A Royal Affair (En kongelig affære). But it may well fit the bill if you fancy a thought-provoking, well-acted, tragic movie depicting one of the most dramatic periods of Danish history. There are elements of La Reine Margot and of any film depicting Henry VIII's relationship with his second and fifth wives. Not to mention The Madness of King George, whose protagonist is the sister of our heroine in A Royal Affair.

It is 1766 and a young British princess (Alicia Vikander), whose name we only discover is Caroline Mathilde almost two hours into the film, is being shipped off to marry King Christian VII of Denmark (Mikkel Boe Følsgaard). He is supposed to be charming and fun, and Caroline is optimistic for her future. No one mentions the fact that he also suffers from various symptoms of mental illness, and is erratic, wildly promiscuous and, according to the movie at least, obsessed with masturbation. 

The first years of the marriage do not go well — Caroline is repulsed and scared by her husband in the bedroom and cannot forgive his need to sate his desires elsewhere. Nonetheless, she does her duty and the future Frederik VI is soon on his way.

Denmark, like much of Europe at this time, is in a period of great change. The country is ruled by the conservative elite, who take advantage of the fact that the king will sign any document if it means he can return to the brothel sooner. But the Enlightenment is underway and those who support it manage to get Johann Friedrich Struensee (Mads Mikkelsen), a small-town doctor with big, revolutionary ideas, a job as the king's personal physician. 

Struensee becomes the king's closest friend and confidant and is soon able to use his influence to start pushing through radical reform that he hopes will make the country a better, and fairer, place. Naturally, the conservative ruling council and the king's stepmother (Trine Dyrholm), who wants her own son on the throne, are unimpressed and plot to remove this dangerous upstart from government.

Their job is made easier by the fact that Strunsee and Caroline fall in love; ironically, the king tells Struensee to try to make Caroline more fun. They are attracted to each other but they also bond over Rousseau and it is clear that the queen is on Team Enlightenment, which means she can also push through some radical reforms of her own. 

For a while, Caroline feels as though she has it all: her husband is happy — and less erratic — with his new BFF, she is doing things that will make Denmark a better place, and she has a thoughtful and attractive lover. When she finds out she is pregnant, she manages to persuade her husband to sleep with her early enough that he wouldn't doubt the child's paternity, but as the queen and Struensee become more confident in their successes, they also become more careless. Spoiler alert: the ending is pretty bleak, although the closing title cards hint at a faint note of hope for the future.

Mikkelsen acts his heart out as the 'nobody' who goes on to become, arguably, Denmark's most powerful man. Struensee isn't perfect — he is often patronising to the king and is later guilty of manipulating the king and using him as a pawn in the same way he criticised the king's earlier advisors of doing; then, of course, he betrays the king completely by having an affair with his wife and lying about it. Mikkelsen makes him seem flawed but sympathetic. 

Meanwhile, Vikander does her Keira Knightley best as the doomed queen: all sad, brown eyes, resigned to her fate. A Royal Affair is a bit of a weepy, but there is plenty of drama (plus the usual brothels and balls) and some big ideas that keep things moving nicely throughout its 2h35 length. The period depicted in the film spans only about six years, but it feels a lot more epic. Go and see it, but be sure to take a handkerchief.

Sister Act

The tagline of Lynn Shelton's new movie Your Sister's Sister reads, "a comedy about doing the right thing with the wrong person," which makes me wonder whether that was really the best they could come up with. Although the film is definitely witty and has a lot of funny lines and funny moments, I wouldn't really describe it as a comedy. Dramedy, maybe, if that weren't such an awful word. I'm not entirely sure I agree with the second half of the description either, as you will say. Misleading posters notwithstanding, I quite enjoyed Your Sister's Sister (which I keep accidentally calling My Sister's Keeper and My Sister's Sister; the title doesn't make a huge amount of sense either).

The brother of Jack (Mark Duplass) died over a year ago and Jack has been in a lonely place ever since so his best buddy Iris (Emily Blunt) sends him off to her family's cottage on a small island off the coast of Washington state so that he can chill in an-internet and TV-free zone and then return with a renewed vigour for life, or something. Iris used to go out with Jack's brother and later dumped him; more recently, she has started to have feelings for Jack but hasn't been brave enough to tell him yet. 

When Jack turns up at the cottage late at night, he is surprised to find it occupied by a semi-naked woman. After a minor confrontation with an oar, he realises it is Iris's older sister Hannah (Rosemarie DeWitt), who, it transpires, has been hiding out there since breaking up with her partner of seven years. Unable to sleep, exhausted and drunk, they end up sleeping together, despite the fact that Hannah is a lesbian and Jack "[doesn't] have boobs."

And guess who's coming to breakfast! Yes, that's right: Iris decided to surprise Jack and shows up early the following morning with a load of supplies. Hannah doesn't want to lie to her sister but when Iris reveals her feelings for Jack, she decides that what Iris doesn't know probably won't hurt her. Except that this is the movies, and so of course Iris founds out. In fact, a whole load of other shit hits the fan; as Imogen Heap sang, "It's complicated / This time I think it could be / Triangulated."

The script, much of which was improvised, was as I said funny, but it was also sharp and sweet, without being overly maudlin. The issues that come up — death, life, love, families, and so on — are pretty heavy-going, which is why I maintain that it is somewhat misleading to call Your Sister's Sister a comedy. The three lead actors all put in strong performances, which is lucky because almost all of the action takes place in and around the cottage, with very little interaction with anyone else. 

I was initially confused by Blunt's accent — I couldn't tell if she was doing a really poor American accent or she was in fact Hannah's half-British half-sister and had one of those annoying transatlantic accents that becomes more American as the person becomes more emotional. The latter is, I think, correct, although I would have expected Iris to have more of an American accent. 

Linguistic pedantry aside, Shelton has put together a tightly plotted, emotional character study of three lost souls in search of salvation. Your Sister's Sister is a little clichéd in places, but the superior acting makes it stand out from the other movies of its ilk.