Spring Break
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My friend Amanda from high school came to visit me, and so became my first visitor. I was anxious to give her a good time and planned a crazy weekend. By the end both of our feet hurt, but we didn’t care.
Thursday night we had a roof party with a good-sized group of friends. From our roof in Sugar Hill, the whole city can be seen, as well as Yankee Stadium and the Hudson River on either side respectively. We laid out blankets, candles for light, and played cards/games.
Cupcakes from Magnolia Cafe in Times Square broke the mold. We enjoyed the flashy side of NYC from a small green table at Duffy Square, a memorial square for a Roman Catholic Priest who worked to better the city for many years in everything from the Bronx to the New York Review. His statue stands at the north end of Times Square overlooking the famous tower of screens and the ball’s dropping place on New Year’s Eve.
Among the many sites we visited was Central Park. We walked around the park exploring the Belvedere Castle, the Delacorte Theater, the Great Lawn, etc. I showed her the Bethesda Terrace, near the boathouse and the Mall, which is one of my favorite parts of the park. The fountain is enormous and round. It is a sunken area, so stairs lead down to the level of the lake where boats can be rented to ride leisurely on the water as weeping willows blow in the breeze around you. The statue in the fountain designed by Emma Stebbins in 1873 is called the Angel of Waters, and gracefully stands above small lily pads covering parts of the water below it. The whole area is brick with benches to sit and enjoy the sight before you. It reminds me of a dream.
 
 Brunch at Café Lalo managed to fill, but not over do. The spot for a scene in “You’ve Got Mail,” the restaurant enjoys a good crowd throughout the week and day due to the film placement. The eggs were amazing with whatever mix-ins you like, salad and potatoes. And the unlimited coffee cup was as big as my face which made my eyes and smile even bigger. The cafe is small and quaint with wide windows that open onto the 83rd Street sidewalk. And for what you get experience and food wise, the price is nothing.
My most favorite thing to do in the city is Grimaldi’s Pizzeria, the Ice Cream Factory and walking back to Manhattan over the Brooklyn Bridge. If you come to the city, this is a must! The experience is like none other. I’ve done it five times now and it never gets old.
Of course, the State Island Ferry was in order. Then, Wall Street and Ground Zero. Alexander Hamilton’s grave site blew my mind. George Washington’s inauguration spot seemed unreal. Shake Shack in Madison Square Park also was a definite must do. 
 
There really is an incredible amount of “things to do” so making the decision to do one thing over another is hard. I found that visiting someone living in the city makes for a better experience because they are living there, not visiting too. Therefore, you see and do things you wouldn’t do as a tourist. It was always my preferred way to visit. She left happy with her first trip to The Big Apple, and I accomplished my goal of showing her a good time.
The inimitable “they” refer to the magnificent Metropolitan Museum of Art as “The Met.” And I like it. There’s no reason culture snobs shouldn’t have a nickname for such a huge and amazing place. It has a right to be loved that much.I went for the first time ever with a few friends. We entered the museum a little late and so only had an hour to explore. NOT enough time by any stretch of the imagination. However, we saw some really awesome stuff. I myself really enjoyed reverting to my third-grade self while in discovering Egypt. (Yes, I was one of those weirdos who checked out books on hieroglyphics. But it’s OK, that faze of my life is over … or so I thought.)
 
 
It was interesting to see that humans have always wanted to leave their mark. The 1800’s were popular years for vandalism. Names and dates are scrawled all over the reconstructed temple inside the museum.
We also discovered two great things about New York through the experience: 1) You aren’t a real New Yorker until you pay $.25 to get into a donation suggested museum (and receive a snubbing for it), and 2) If you are there when the museum closes they will escort you out.No hard feelings. I like a little bit of a dramatic ending.
OK, so it is kind of old news up here, but there is a spankin’ new park in New York City called The High Line. The 1930’s structure was built to reroute trains above the streets in what was once an industrial area of the city. In 1980, the trains were no longer running and by the ’90s it was destined to be torn down completely. However, a group saved the elevated path and have now turned it into a park. But you can read all of that and more at the park’s Web site, here.
The landscape seems to grow right up between the concrete’s cracking surface, and that’s fitting because it was designed to look like the natural fauna that would grow on a New York railroad’s edges. Wildflowers and tall grasses “overgrow”much of the walkway in some areas, while other areas are fairly bare.
Perfect views abound of the city and beyond including the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the Hudson River and the lower West side of Manhattan. It’s a peaceful walk even with the many people perusing the stretch.
New York should be proud of this recycling of a seemingly obsolete piece of concrete.
“Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!Clouds of the west–sun there half an hour high–I see you also faceto face.Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curiousyou are to me!On the ferry-boats the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returninghome, are more curious to me than you suppose,And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are moreto me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.”
excerpt from “Crossing Brooklyn Bridge” by Walt Whitman
Sunday was the restful experience it should always be this past week. I slept until 1 p.m. after a long night at work and play. Some friends of mine and I (after coffee and showers) walked west down 155th to the Hudson River. All along that side of Manhattan is a park. At this end there is a trail with benches and blackberry trees overlooking the Hudson and New Jersey. The four of us sat together in the nice weather and enjoyed the view.
The park is strange because as you get near it you have to go under an overpass, or two, and the scene looks deceivingly sketchy. Once the sun hits you on the other side of the Henry Hudson Parkway though, the scene changes drastically into a great day long getaway site. Families grilled out, basketball games were played, and we picked blackberries while chatting about our weeks to come.
On the way back to our house, we walked alongside a huge cemetery that runs from the river to Amsterdam Avenue. We saw head stones with dates like 1770 and 1876. Like a movie, it started raining the minute we got inside the gates of the cemetery, but we walked through unshaken.
Even closer to St. Nicholas Avenue, we came to a small garden. There were overgrown blooming branches and small hand-painted stones leaning against an above ground bed. In awe of the nature before us, we completely missed the fact that the garden was the very one our apartment butts up to. A sign inside says “Winner of Beautify Your Neighborhood Award.”
I guess it would be appropriate now to say we live in an area known as Sugar Hill. It is the filet of Harlem, or at least was and is looking up again. A New York Times reporter said, “When affluent and influential African-Americans began moving in after World War 1, the name ‘Sugar Hill’ came into use, probably because ’sugar’ was said to signify money and the sweet life — In those few blocks lived pioneering civil rights activists like W. E. B. Du Bois, Walter White, Roy Wilkins and the Rev. Adam Clayton Powell, Sr.; writers like Langston Hughes, Ralph Ellison and Zora Neale Hurston; musicians like Paul Robeson and Cab Calloway; and professionals like Thurgood Marshall…”
The neighborhood is quiet enough to feel homey, but lively enough to feel like New York City still. And like our little garden behind our house, much is being done to better Sugar Hill. I’ve never lived better.
Everyone knows Brooklyn is looking up. Boutiques, restaurants, renovated apartments, etc. — the borough has begun to emit a magnetic frequency all its own. I knew once I moved to New York I would want to visit and see for myself.
My also newly transplanted roommate and I decided Sunday would be the day. We got up early (10 a.m. at best) and caught the D toward Brooklyn. As we ascended from the depths of the damp subway tracks to the Brooklyn Bridge our eyes widened. Gorgeous views of the city and the river met us in the morning sunlight.
I had been told of a brunch place on 5th Avenue called PLAYA and figured it would be a good first impression for the both of us. The shore-inspired café has bright blue walls with painted palm trees and a straw awning at the bar. Luckily, it was a sunny day and we were able to convince ourselves to believe in the scenery’s illusion.
As we perused the menu, a box of popcorn with spicy paprika seasoning was set on the table. Interesting, we thought, and took a handful each while watching for the other’s reaction. We liked it. Nice touch. The friend who told me about brunch also mentioned a $4 bottomless sangria deal, and the details were true. PLAYA wasn’t stingy with its drinks either. Two medium-sized hurricane glasses arrived just as my coffee did so I gladly double fisted the two lovely liquids.
I ordered the huevos rancheros. Two flat crusty tomato tortillas layered with black beans, cheese and salsa topped with two over-easy eggs. YUM. Allie ordered the eggs benedict, a classic and one of my favorite breakfasts, without a single complaint. We both cleaned our plates.
The waitress asked if we had been to Brooklyn before (we must have looked like newbies) and suggested several activities we would enjoy. We walked to a small farmer’s market, went in a few boutiques, and took a nap in Prospect Park to the sounds of little league and picnicking.
We decided the venture would have to become a monthly outing and gave Brooklyn two thumbs up for a great place to spend the day.
“Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man … woman …”
Central Park just puts me in a singing mood, I guess. But being in the section so named The Ramble, I remembered a conversation I had once with a friend in Athens. We were disagreeing on lifestyle. To be more specific, he said living in a city was the worst thing he could think of and I said living in the country was the worst that I could. We obviously had more differences than that. I like my life to be filled with things to do, places to see and people to meet. He is a little more of the sit-on-the-front-porch-drinking-sweet-tea-and-playing-a-guitar mindset.
The truth is both lifestyles are appealing to me in one way or another. It is just a fact that I would rather live in the midst of it all and escape to the nothingness. All of this rambling brings me to my point.
Many people believe New York City is a big hunk of concrete on a small island filled with honking horns and shiny clothes. And yes, these things do exist here in large quantities. However, Manhattanites also have a propensity toward trees, grass, hiking, and the outdoors in general. Thus, Central Park (and the 6 or so other parks within the city limits.)
The Ramble is a large section of woods in the park with paths that wind like snakes through the trees. It isn’t flat and the hills are butt busters. It is perfect for the hiker who lives in a suit from 9-to-5 but secretly dreams of the AT. The tangling paths sit next to a small lake where willow trees bow gracefully and ducks paddle by. It is an escape in the midst of it all. In fact for a second, I stopped and thought, “I can’t even here the traffic anymore.” Aahh, sweet serenity.
It is also true that New York City is only a city in a large state that is in the majority rural. But that’s beside the point. Just remember that when you visit The Big Apple or think about moving here, you don’t have to give up your usual Saturday in the woods retreat. We have that too.
While walking through Central Park, which is huge and I haven’t even begun to truly explore, I stumbled upon the ever so sacred Strawberry Fields. I should have seen the signs. T-shirts were being sold that read, “[Picture of strawberry] fields forever,” and “Imagine.”
The small section was extremely peaceful due to the declared quiet zone that encompasses it. People stood still or silently sat on the benches lining the walkway. The bohemian garden in the middle felt out of a dream. I stood in front of the large circular pathway art and did “Imagine.”
I thought of what the words to John Lennon’s songs mean. I thought about his great accomplishments and his major personality flaws. I thought about Yoko Ono, of course, and the other Beatles. But mostly, I thought about what it means to transport yourself into the shoes of someone else and how that time travel that can only happen in your mind (so far) brings immense perspective to things at present. If we let it, the past can teach us a lot.
So here’s to you John! Thanks for finding the time to imagine and giving us the encouragement to fulfill those dreams.
Last night I spent a couple hours enjoying the view of the river and New Jersey from the very tip of Manhattan on the roof of a friend’s unbelievable apartment
Earlier I went to Central Park for the first time since moving to the city, and minus my tiny redheaded charge who loves the playgrounds in the Upper West Side of the park. Two of my roommates and I walked from 153rd to the park without a care in the world. Once we got there, it was a short wind through the wooded paths to a green meadow where we lounged with books. The perfect afternoon!
From there, I hopped onto the 3 to the 1 to Rector Street. The apartment looked like a luxury resort building. And once at the top, I couldn’t believe how gorgeous the view was from the roof. My friend’s apartment was modern and a typical New York size. “My living room is a glorified hallway,” he laughed. The terrace just a few floors up was full of people and as we overlooked the bright lights of New York’s tallest buildings surrounded by new friends, fireworks exploded across the river from a pier.
Two weeks in and I feel like I’m at the top of the world.
There’s no better way to plan your life on a budget than researching your free options. I have never been to a city where events are constantly occurring that don’t cost a thing — until New York. And I am amazed at the volume.
More than any other outing, I love live music. Since it’s my favorite go-to event, I’ve been asking anyone I run in to who seems the least bit musically inclined if they can point me in the right direction. (Preferably one my iPhone can map out for me.)
Finally I lucked out. One of my co-interns at Industry Publicity had just compiled a huge list of free events happening this summer in the city for one of our clients. Woo-hoo! Free music (arts, theater, shopping, etc.) here I come.
June 2009 in NYC – Click the links below for more info.
Good Morning America FREE Summer Concerts. May 8 to August 21. 7 a.m. Rockefeller Center.
Roosevelt Live. May 23 to September 5. Every Saturday. 4 p.m. Roosevelt Island.
Into the Sunset. Through June 8. Third Floor. Museum of Modern Art.
Museum Mile Event. June 9. 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. 5th Avenue.
Shakespeare in the Park. June 10 to July 12. Tuesday through Saturday – “Twelfth Night.” 8 p.m. Central Park.
Movies Under the Stars. June 15 to August 17. Monday only. Dusk. Bryant Park.
Isabel Toledo: Fashion from the Inside Out. June 17 to September 26. Tuesday-Friday Noon to 8 p.m.;Saturday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Fashion Institute of Technology.
Summer in the Square. June 18 to August 13. Every Thursday. 8 a.m. Union Square.
Street Fairs. Month of June.
ENJOY!
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