G'Day From Downunder

Mike Bowen With All The Latest From Irish-Australia

So now that I have my feet back on Aussie soil once more after my whirlwind trip, lets put the kettle on and I'll tell you something of my adventures.

May 9th and I woke to a welcome misty morning in Melbourne, heart pumping rapidly, adrenalin running at the maximum It's time to pack the last of my toiletries and head to the airport to catch the big bird that will whisk me from home base Melbourne to the "Big Apple"

New York, New York - flying over the wide Pacific Ocean via New Zealand, over Fiji and Hawaii, on to Los Angeles the city of Angels and then across the great continent of America east to my first destination, New York City.

Now listen to this for a douzie. Who said coincidences don't happen. Well how's this for starters? My lawyer friend and business partner Philip Colman travelled five days before me to the Big Apple via Dubai in Saudi Arabia and New York to Washington where he was attending a Law Conference. He was then returning to New York where we had agreed to meet at Fitzpatrick Hotel on Lexington Avenue between 56th and 57th streets.

Well, after Philip going round the world one way and myself going the other way, can you believe that both our taxies pulled up outside the hotel at exactly the same moment? Now tell me, what are the odds of that happening ever again? Billions to one! "Amazing" is the only word to describe such a coincidence.

Fitzpatrick's is my home in New York when I'm away from home - lovely, lovely people. Wonderful service, everyone from the bar staff to the bell boy and the most important thing of all when you travel away from home is the bed. I promise you I have slept in thousands of beds across the world and I kid you not, Fitzpatrick's have the most comfortable beds I have ever slept on in the world bar none. So why would I stay anywhere else? Now I swear hand on heart this is a non-paid plug.

Now back to the two cabs arriving at the hotel at the same time. Philip and I drop our bags in the foyer and head to the bar and a welcome to America pint lots of G'day's and How are You's from us to the locals and other hotel guests then it's off to Eamonns on East 45th for another wonderful welcome to America from the host himself, Eamonn. No wonder they do such a great business with such hospitality and there, I say it again, a great staff line up full of life and vigour - just what two weary travellers want to see: smiling staff and full of humour.

New York was dressed in its finery and only too willing to embrace the jet-lagged Aussies soaking up the magic atmosphere of Manhattan. In spite of the jet lag Philip and I were too excited and we had so much to talk about even the temptation of Fitzpatrick's 'number one bed in the world' couldn't quell our thirst for the excitement and conversation over a few pints in Eamonns.

Being only human it was inevitable that jet lag was going to call our celebrations to a halt and so it did. A good night sleep in the best bed in the world, a hearty Irish Breakfast started Thursday 10th; a read of the Irish Examiner to catch up on the local gossip and of course a quick glance at G'day from Downunder by somebody named Mike Bowen in Australia. How strange it seemed reading my own column in New York. I felt privileged and humble to be able to contribute to such a fine newspaper servicing the Irish Community in America.

A brisk walk and a little window shopping then Philip and I head off to lunch with my boss, the bigger than life Paddy McCarthy and the Irish Examiner's Editor, Grahame Curtis. Grahame is, dare I say, an Englishman social climbing with the Irish in America. I better bite my tongue now and forever or he will edit me into oblivion?

Seriously though, Grahame is a delightful character with a wonderful sense of humour and, like myself, a devout Rugby fan. He can be seen any day in Manhattan - easily identified by his blue World Cup Rugby Cap and a Koala Bear on his lapel.

Paddy McCarthy on the other hand needs no identifying apparel as he is one of the most distinguished looking people you will ever meet, full of life and stories. In a police lineup he would make Santa Clause look insignificant, he is one of the few people in this world who can out talk yours truly. Now with this combination and the now slightly jet-lagged Aussies full of beans, the lunch was not going to be a short one and so it turned out.

I must admit I was finding myself totally immersed in the wonderful magic of New York. Thursday was really a day of relaxation catching up with old friends for a chit chat, small talk and swapping stories. Now during the evening I did as promised some weeks ago that I would and checked out a few of your trash cans to see if there was anything worthwhile in your rubbish that I could give you a bit of recognition for, but I suppose I outsmarted myself by telling you of my intentions for I didn't find one scrap of paper with any incriminating evidence whatsoever which leaves me now confused.

I suppose I have to assume you are now all living the pure life with not a skeleton in the closet. I must also say again that I did as promised and brought a bag full of Koalas to Irish Examiner's Office. Now in saying that I produced two bags full in Eamonn's bar and I'll swear no sooner did I open the bags than they were scooped up. Everyone in sight was a Koala on their lapel. They were such a success, Eamonn named a corner of his bar The Koala Corner and that sure put a smile on my face.

On Friday I consumed most of my time browsing in Manny's world-famous music store and Sam Ash's music store on West 48th Street. They have got to be two of best music stores to be found anywhere. Now, me being a hugh music buff, I was worse than a two-year-old child in a candy store, buying up everything I could get my hands on and in some cases ordering what they didn't have. Next time I visit New York they will have to cordon off the street to those shops or I will sell my house and spend my last dime there.

Friday night was spent in ESPN Zone in Time Square enjoying a few gallons of Budweiser and many pounds of chicken wings followed by gorgeous glazed ribs and falling head over heals in love with the game of Ice Hockey that was telecasted on the big screens. Yes, yes, I'm hooked, bring on the Ice Hockey. Even my conservative lawyer companion Philip was bitten by the Ice Hockey bug.

I just knew when I woke up on Saturday that it was going to be a special kind of day. There was a hum in the air at breakfast, smiles everywhere in Fitzpatrick's and the magnificent spring sunshine outside. Philip and I decided to walk from our hotel down to Battery Point, a really good healthy walk to shake off the cobwebs and the remainder of our jet lag. The intention was to stroll at our leisure weaving in and out of some of the side streets just to get off the beaten track, and that's just what we did.

We stopped to get some photos of the UN building and some of the wonderful oases on our way our feet got a bit weary and our throats a bit dry so we decided to drop in to Les Halles at 411 Park Avenue. There we found a GEM brighter and more radiant than any gem I have ever seen. A smile to die for and a personality unmatched!

This gem bares the name of Amy Stewart a young actor getting some life experience before she hits the big time. If you happen to be passing this establishment don't but miss the opportunity to drop in and have a coffee with this delightful young lady. What was going to be a two minute drop in for a quick coffee turned out to be an hour and a half of delightful conversation. She had us captivated with her charm. Hopefully the management of Les Halles can see the enormous talent of this young lady and not let her slip through their fingers as its only a matter of time before some keen eyed producer wanders in for a coffee just like us and she will be scoped off to Hollywood to fulfil her dream. And then the secret will be out, but just you remember who told you first.

So if you want your life enriched drop in and have a coffee with Amy Stewart. I did say I felt it was going to be a special day. Philip and I reluctantly parted company with the shining gem that is Amy Stewart and headed for Battery Park. Passing Greenwich Village Soho, still weaving in and out of side streets to get a more intimate feel for the Big Apple, Wall Street was in lock down mode. Security everywhere! We stopped to pay our respects at Ground Zero where I cried for a while and then wrote a poem for those lost souls.

And then I cried some more for those who were lost. After composing myself, Philip and I took a water taxi ride up the Hudson returning via the Statue of Liberty. The cab driver delivered the weary Aussies to the ESPN Zone for another fix of beer, chicken wings, glazed ribs and Ice Hockey. What a wonderful day! Let me say it once more, I knew this day was going to be special.

On Sunday morning, there is only one place to be if you are a soccer mad fan and that is Nevada Smiths. You would have to carry a shoehorn with you to get in the door. Ninety-five percent of the patrons were wearing their respective teams jerseys, a wonderful array of colour.

Topping the bill was Manchester United, the Champions, playing West Ham United who desperately needed to win to stop themselves from dropping down a division. Knife edge stuff! Electrifying atmosphere in Nevada Smiths! Everyone's heart in their mouth with the tension, absolute magic! Final result Manchester 0 - West Ham 1. And so West Ham survives in the big arena for another year.

Next time there's a soccer match on TV give the wife a break and head for Nevada Smiths then you'll both be happy. After drinking our share of the celebratory champagne that the West Ham supporters dished out, Philip and I headed for La Guardia to catch a four and a half hour flight to Toronto for some business meetings, returning on Monday evening. After the lights and excitement on Time Square, Toronto looks very tame, nice, but tame.

Monday night was spent in the company of Ireland's premier comic Brendan Grace and ace golfer Christie O'Connor Jr. And I tell you we were not saying decades of the Rosary. Luckily for Philip he wisely escaped to the comfort of Fitzpatrick's.

Tuesday came, and I was not feeling hot because I accepted too much of the hospitality my famous new friends lavished on me. A late lunch was organised at Eamonns with my host himself and the crew of the 'Irish Examiner' along with Tony Quinn, 'Irish Connections' editor. This was our final get together before I caught an Air Lingus flight to Ireland on the second leg of my journey of which I will tell you more next week. But, before I sign off, I would like to thank everyone who made Philip's and my stay a most joyous one in your wonderful country.

May you always have a song in your heart?

Slainte from Downunder