You can talk about New York infinitely. There’s nowhere anything like it—this you feel in your first moment here. It’s the personification of freedom and unlimited opportunities.
New York, New York.
The most democratic of cities, the Big Apple provokes love or hatred—but never apathy. Its vibe, its rhythms, its staggering diversity will never be forgotten. New York—Love at first sight, for me.
What knocked me out about Los Angeles was the number of Mercedes. If in Vegas, hotels are most emblematic of the town, and in N.Y.C. snack bars, then in L.A. it’s the ubiquitous Mercedes showroom.
Santa Monica, California.
I have no illusions about writing something fresh about L.A. Apparently this is a fine place if you like Hollywood and everything “Hollywoodish”. My sister, for example said “…look, there’s a car with a star of a popular soap opera”. I heard that some in L.A. spend all their money on appearances: clothes, cars, life-style—in order to be like their idols. In general, in L.A. you’re judged by your life style, but in N.Y.C. it’s how you grow and whether you know how to achieve your goals. In L.A. you’re nothing without a Mercedes; in N.Y.C. millionaires do not even have cars, preferring public transportation. L.A.’s natural environment is lovely although I never actually saw it—I was there in the winter.
My first trip within the U.S. was to Las Vegas, Nevada. Actually, it was a waste of time, although this was the first city where I spent more than a night (as I had in New York). At first I kind of liked it.
Las Vegas, Nevada.
“Vegas” (as the Americans say) is uniquely situated. From the air—desert. One hour left. More desert. 30 minutes as preparation for landing is announced. But where? Everywhere, desert. And great turbulence to boot! The plane screeches, shakes – how it didn’t come apart already I’ll never understand. Alas, heading toward landing and I’m freaking out with the thought of setting down in dunes! Is that Sudan?
Suddenly, the city appears. At first—and typical for American cities—garbage dumps and warehouses. Then, awesome beauty. Vegas, where people come to from everywhere in America and the world to blow a few million bucks in an evening.
But Vegas in not N.Y. That’s for sure. The atmosphere is mellow, child-like in its devil-may-care attitude. No hurrying here (and why? You lost a ton, so relax!), with everyone almost suspiciously polite. Bus drivers can’t stop babbling with their passengers. Love to joke. And it’s perfectly normal for them to stop in the middle of the road and speak with a passer-by. Give him directions. Why not? Passengers are good with this. On my very first day, for example, I was accompanied out of the bus by the driver who wanted to give me directions, while the passengers waited and smiled. Many drivers are females.
In general, Vegas is one big street (narrow side streets run off of it), with enormous hotels hunched over on both sides. Traffic into it gets bottled-up. What more is there to say? That’s it. On the evening of my second day in Vegas I left for L.A. While it’s beautiful, Vegas isn’t for me: To laid-back and boring.
Sometimes it seems to me that this, in fact, was the reason for the joy I experienced on landing at New York City’s Kennedy Airport on January 6, 2007—I was on the ground. My flight took on added meaning owing to the fact that yet another time I quit the bottle, even turning down on board an offer of my beloved dry, red wine, something I regret to this day. But during my first days in the United States I had to do a lot of flying; actually on the following day, at 6 AM, I took a plane to the U.S. west coast, to Las Vegas.