The Big Apple, Worms and All

How do foreign tourists view the U.S.? Ask two British matrons when they descend on Manhattan.

Naomi Sutcliffe is about to take a step onto West 45th Street. She's talking and not really looking. It's an icy January day in New York, and inches in front of her left foot is a frozen slab.

There's an angry-looking line of taxis that's about to blast across Sixth Avenue. And just as the light starts blinking "Don't Walk Don't Walk," Sutcliffe is blocked by a guy shouting the words to some song and shoving along a box-stacked metal handcart.

"Watch it!" warns Sutcliffe's friend, Jayne Steele, snatching her back to the curb in the nick of time.

Sutcliffe and Steele are Londoners on holiday. Englishwomen in New York. And they are intrepid. "I've been feeling the need of a nap at teatime," says Steele, who's now gotten her friend past ice and pushcart and is piloting the way uptown. "But you can't succumb."

Both in their early fifties, Sutcliffe and Steele are dressed like you'd expect from a pair of mid-level execs: good wool, leather shoes. No sneakers or track suits here.

Tourists like Steele and Sutcliffe keep coming back to the United States, despite rigorous new post-9/11 visa requirements and fingerprinting at airports (which even nationals who don't need visas have to go through). In 2005, foreign visitors spent a record $104.8 billion here, drawn by the weak U.S. dollar. London, on the other hand, turns up in surveys as the most expensive city in the world.

"We've both been here quite a few times," says Sutcliffe. "And not just to New York. San Francisco, L.A., Santa Barbara. Some on both coasts, but not a lot in the middle." Steele is a self-employed consultant who once worked for British Telecom, and Sutcliffe is a manager at a firm called Dunnhumby.

According to New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, Steele and Sutcliffe are two out of some 7.2 million international visitors, a record, expected to pour into the city in 2006. It seemed like a good time to stop examining our own vacation albums and examine theirs. What does a trip to America's biggest city feel like to a foreign tourist?

Of the 24 million overseas visitors who come to the United States annually, not counting Canadians and Mexicans, most head for California, Florida and New York. Do they think we're friendly -- even in these often-crowded destinations? Do they like our style? Do they understand what we say? Are foreign tourists keen on American food, comfy in our hotels? Do they find it tricky getting around? Is shopping pricey? And, oh yeah, the unvarnished truth: Are we Yanks really as loud as some say? And as out of shape?

To help find some answers, Steele and Sutcliffe agreed to let me trail around with them during the last day of their long-weekend January stay. I meet them in the lobby of their hotel, the Algonquin on West 44th Street, at 8 a.m.

Time to be off, but Steele isn't moving. She's crouched over something fluffy on the rug by the revolving door. It's Matilda, the hotel mascot, a dust-colored cat with dandelion wisps of fur and a suave expression. As Steele reaches to pet her, Matilda steps away. There's a sound like scratching from behind the front desk.

"I wonder if that's where they keep the litter tray," says Sutcliffe.