JUST SAYING

New York City may be off limits for now – but on this of all days, it’s impossible not to be transported there, says Chris Leadbeater

It is tricky, when its borders have been closed for 18 months, to write about the United States. But somehow it is easy, on this most inauspicious of dates, to write about its most celebrated city. It shouldn’t be. The number combination that is 9/11 needs no explanation; the mental images it conjures are no bright Fifth Avenue advertisement for a week in New York. But on the 20th anniversary of that dreadful day it is hard not to feel drawn towards the Big Apple – even if the journey will have to wait, for now.

Perhaps it is the idea of shared experience; that each of us who were old enough to have been watching will have seen events unfold in grisly detail. We all know where we were when the Twin Towers collapsed; can recall the outpouring of disbelief that followed. And maybe this is the point. The events of September 11 2001 were an American tragedy, but an international disaster, witnessed in every corner of the world. It touched us all.

I wasn’t in Manhattan on that morning two decades ago, but I was in the city in the first week of September 2011, as the 10-year milestone approached. It was an odd time to be in New York, odder still to be viewing its darkest hour through a travel lens. The loss still felt viscerally close – not least when I visited Ground Zero, to be shown the memorial as it went through its final preparations. I had to sign an agreement to hold off from publishing photos showing the names of the dead, printed into the cold metal, as the families hadn’t yet toured the site. I have never felt more intrusive.

And yet, this was easily my favourite of the three trips I have made to the metropolis Sinatra declared an insomniac. I eschewed cabs and the subway where I could, walking as much as possible – on Governors

It’s hard not to be drawn to the Big Apple – even if the journey will have to wait

Island, along the High Line, through the Meatpacking District and Hell’s Kitchen, around Harlem. I am not saying I thought myself a New Yorker; just that the city seemed determined to dispel the (un)timely shadows, and it was enjoyable to be there as it did so. May this weekend come with a similar sense of resolve.