Remembering a terrorist outrage - the 9/11 Memorial Museum

It's been some time since I was last in New York, and the city is ever changing. The effective completion of the memorial for the victims of the September 11th attack by Al Qaeda meant that we could go and see how they have decided to reflect upon an incident that most of us thought unimaginable.

In order to ensure that you can walk into the museum, it is best to book in advance online - you can print off the ticket - so that you can fit your visit in efficiently. And it is very efficient, with admission organised on half-hourly slots to help visitor flows.

The museum building itself is surrounded by a small park with two incredible water features which act as the memorial to those who died, not just in the two towers, but in Washington and in New Jersey, where the fourth flight crashed in open country. Two square pools, with water pouring down from each edge into the centre, and a square hole in the middle where water drains away. The falling water catches the light to create flickering rainbows and upon the walls are engraved the names of the dead.

In my experience, Americans are not prone to introspection. That isn't a criticism, more an acknowledgement that big city Americans appear louder than life. And, in a museum that marks the deaths of more than three thousand people, that might not be a helpful trait, especially when combined with tourists who might not 'get it'. But it is a remarkably tranquil place, albeit a very somber one. the exhibits explain the story of the day itself, the history of events that led up to it and followed on from it, and tell individual stories in a way that is incredibly moving.

The fact that the museum is built over Ground Zero, and that remains from the original Twin Towers form part of the building itself, is just another of the features that makes the 9/11 Memorial Museum something that visitors to New York would do well to make time for. I'm certainly glad that I did...

"A second cousin is a person in your neighbourhood" - a gentle mid-morning in Brooklyn

Saturday morning, the sun was shining, and it was time for a trip on the subway. Our destination - Brooklyn or, to be more precise, Clinton Hill, a long-established residential suburb, for brunch with Leon, Patti, Vayden and Finley.

We walked across Times Square in search of an ATM, withdrew some spending money and purchased two 7-day Metrocards - pretty good value at $31 each (never let it be said that you don't learn anything here at "Liberal Bureaucracy"), before heading into the underworld. It is, it must be said, just as hot as Hades down there. However, we eventually located the C train platforms, arriving just in time to catch a train.

One of the quirky things about the New York subway is that lines aren't necessarily fixed, and we suddenly, rather unexpectedly, found ourselves on the F line, heading for Jay Street/Metro Tech where, we were reassured, would revert to the C line, due to weekend engineering works (where have I heard that phrase before).

Having left Times Square, which is truly raucous and chaotic, we were slightly surprised to emerge into the sunshine at Clinton/Washington Streets to a scene of tranquillity. It is twenty minutes from Times Square, yet the peaceful streets betray no sense that Manhattan is so close. Tree-lined streets, interesting nineteenth century architecture, in short the sort of place where a bureaucrat could live if obliged to return to the city.

Abandoning my jacket - it was a very comfortable twenty-five degrees - we set off for a stroll around the neighbourhood. Clinton Hill has long been a middle-class enclave amongst some slightly dicey locales - Bedford-Stuyvescent to the east inspired the 1980 Billy Joel lyric "I’ve been stranded in the combat zone/I walked through Bedford-Stuy alone.” - but is now a place where some rather good restaurants compete for trade. We stopped for an excellent brunch at "Ici", which describes itself as a French country kitchen. I'm not sure about the French, but the food was very good, and a witbier from Nantucket went down very well with it.

Strolling on, we headed for Fort Greene Park, so that Vayden and Finlay could run around a bit, before having a look at the farmers' market and picking up some provisions. We returned to Leon and Patti's place via a different route, stopping at the Brooklyn Flea, an organised flea market held on the playground of a local high school. All sorts of things can be obtained, but my eye was drawn to some outsize metal letters. If only luggage restrictions weren't so onerous...

It was, all in all, a very pleasant way to pass a few hours, catching up on events, just hanging out in the neighbourhood. And, hopefully, we'll see my second cousin and his family rather sooner next time...