The Bolt Bus from Philadelphia to New York took around two and a half hours and dropped us off about fifteen minutes away from the subway. We arrived at 6pm, ready to meet the lady responsible for handing us the keys to the little apartment we'd rented. But, as our luck often turns out, we couldn't understand a word she said to us on the phone (and I don't think she could understand us either) so we ended up waiting for a little over an hour for her to arrive. Luckily a friendly Persian lady invited us to wait in her apartment downstairs with her daughter. We drank Persian tea (so tasty, everyone must try Persian tea once in their life), ate macaroons and listened to her stories.
When we eventually got into the apartment it looked nothing like the photos on the internet. But then nothing (and nobody) looks anything like their photos on the internet, so I shouldn't have been so surprised..
But I am finally here in New York City; I am walking the same streets and seeing the same sights as all the great contemporary dance pioneers before me did. At last I have a solid connection to Graham, José, Cunningham, Duncan, Dunham and Humphrey that isn't just based in history books. I am in the same city where some of the most renowned contemporary dancers have lived and breathed and danced.