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shannon_aThe third time I end up back at Central Park West, I realize it's harder to cross Central Park than I thought.
I start looking for a map so I can reorient myself, and attempt to set out west again.
Nine Hours Earlier.
I hit the subway for the first time on my fourth full day in New York. I hope that it won't be too crowded because it's already a bit after 9am ... but not so much.
When the "6" pulls up just after I descend into the station, it's entirely jammed. I start walking to the front of the train, hoping that the front cars will be emptier, and it looks like they have at least some tight standing room, but then the doors closed.
I'm not too upset.
A few minutes later the "4" pulls up, and it's almost as packed, but I'm at the front of the train now, so I manage to squeeze on.
This turns out to be a very fortuitous thing. I hadn't understood why the "4", "5", and "6" all ran on the same line. It turns out that the "6" is a local and the "4" is an express — meaning it goes faster because it skips stations. Since I'm going all the way to Brooklyn this is great.
The trip apparently takes longer than usual because the express train is running on the local tracks for the first several stations, which is how I was actually able to catch it. The operator says this is because "several people were sick on our trains".
As we approach lower Manhattan, I finally am able to sit down.
Meanwhile, the "4" has switched back to the express tracks and we're speeding along.
When I land in Brooklyn, I feel like I should look around, because when am I ever going to be in Brooklyn again?
(Maybe tomorrow; plans are undecided.)
I do walk through a few veteran's parks, but I make continual progress toward my destination: the Brooklyn Bridge.
It is a totally awesome walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. You have the Lower Manhattan skyline ahead, growing ever closer. The Manhattan Bridge is off to the right. And off to the left, somewhat in the distance, is the Statue of Liberty.
The whole walk is on a wood-plank walkway, which feels old and archaic. The path is divided between pedestrians and bicyclists, but often the pedestrians spill out into the bicyclist side (sometimes because the route is blocked, sometimes because the other pedestrians are slow, sometimes just because). The bicyclists are clearly used to navigating this because they're constantly ringing their bells as they're approaching and/or screaming at the top of their lungs, "BIKE!!!"
The whole way across the Bridge the One World Trade Center is growing bigger. I decide I'll regret it if I don't visit Ground Zero, even though I feel ghoulishly touristy for doing so. But, it was an important, shocking moment in my life too.
I'm glad I do. Ground Zero has one of the most moving monuments I've seen. The Vietnam Memorial is the only one that compares.
There are two great square pools, representing the twin towers. Each is set into the ground, with water cascading down the sides to gather in a pool far below ground level. Then they plunge down an even deeper shaft in the middle, to who knows where. Along the sides of the pool is a dark, deep metal railing with the names of the lost carved into it.
The cascading water reminds me of the people jumping from the buildings on that terrible day, of the towers suddenly cascading down like waterfalls themselves. The further drop down the shaft feels like a dive into the abyss, like something lost forever. And lest we lose the human perspective, there are the names.
It's almost horrifying, this monument, but it's one of the most moving and brilliant pieces of art I've ever seen. It's a falling tower, an inverse tower, and purifying water all at once.
I have tears running down my face when I turn away from the pool (and again while I write).
(Pictures don't do it justice, but this is the best I see.)
It almost seems impossible to transition away from that. I successful do so this morning by using my feet. I plan to take the subway to the High Line Park, but Google maps says taking the subway will take almost as much time as walking. Since I don't consider my footsteps a finite resource, I walk.
Happily this brings me to the Hudson River Greenway. This is what I hoped for when I walked further up the Hudson, but did not find. It's a beautiful walk right along the river, with plenty of seating and all kinds of sports and lots of playgrounds. It's beautiful.
I eat lunch at Brookfield Place. It's the the complex formerly known as the World Financial Center. Lots of financial buildings, connected to an upscale mall. I totally splurge for this one meal, and have some tacos with guacamole and some chips and then a dark chocolate cupcake. Total damage of $19 is ridiculously cheap for the upscaleness of the place.
It's all pretty tasty too.
It's a long walk, but I eventually make it to the Highline Park. It's exactly what I hoped for, a really beautiful linear park, cutting through the city skyline. It literally goes through some buildings, presumably because they were built around the original railway.
I'd never considered what a great pathway this is through the city, but it totally is. If I was walking from one place to another connected by the Park, I'd totally take it rather than city streets.
I'm also surprised by how crowded it is. It's only a few years old, but it's come under heavy use for walking and sitting alike.
I hadn't planned to stop at Mood Fabrics, but I realize it's just three short blocks from my subway stop. So I stop in. I'm somewhat surprised to discover it's not at street level. Project Runway implies otherwise, but you actually go into a building lobby and a lift attendant takes you up to the third floor, and then you emerge into Mood, which covers the second, third, and fourth floors.
I enjoy looking around a bit, to put Project Runway's many visits there into context, but I do feel like an intruder since the majority of the visitors actually seem to be buying fabric.
I also get the context of the area. It's in the Garment District, and there are couture dress stores all around. Even the near restaurants are clothing themed.
Finally, I get back on the train, having walked from Brooklyn to the Garment District via the Civic Center, West Chelsea, the Meatpacking District, the Hudson Yards and probably a few others.
Using my newfound subway skills I take the express "A" instead of the local "C". This actually takes some effort because you have to go under the local tracks to find the express tracks, but I figure it out.
I was a bit worried about the length of time it'd take to get to the Cloisters, where I'm going, but it's about 20 minutes from the Garments District there. It really helps that the express train skips the entirety of Central Park, going from 59th to 125th with no stops.
The Cloisters are in Fort Tryon, and it's beautiful. It's a gorgeous green and wooded area, overlooking the Hudson. There is also weird, medieval-looking stonework and buildings here and there. And there's more wildlife than I've seen anywhere else in New York. Faded-out gray squirrels, an ominous black squirrel that threatens to charge me a few times, a ground hog, and tons of birds.
If I was going to live in New York, I'd want to live somewhere up here, because it takes a similar amount of time to get downtown from here on the Express as it did on the tight, cramped train I took this morning.
The Cloisters itself is a Met museum focused on medieval art. I was less than enthused coming in, because I thought that meant paintings, and medieval paintings are pretty bleh. But it turns out to mean everything. I love the stained glass. I love the jewelry. I love the gardens they have set up, filled with medieval stonework. (It's all imported from various places in Europe and is all genuinely medieval.) But I'm most awed by the unicorn tapestry room. I just turn a corner and I'd suddenly in a room with all these original medieval tapestries that I've seen before. I look at them all carefully for quite a while, then just sit and stare some more.
I'm feeling increasingly comfortable with the trains. (I hope that statement doesn't bite me in the butt when I take them back to JFK tomorrow.) I easily hop on the express, then transfer over to the local several stops down, so I can actually get off at Central Park.
I get off at 103rd with the goal being to cut across the park, and see a bit of the northern park that I hadn't seen before.
Unfortunately I keep getting turned around and ending up back at Central Park West, which of course runs along the west side of the park. (Part of the problem is that I've run out my iPhone battery, so can't use Google Maps to navigate; the other part of the problem is that I'm not familiar enough with the skylines to easily say which direction is which.)
At one point I end up on a running track around the reservoir. I'm forced to go counterclockwise "for my safety". And I of course end up back at Central Park West.
I finally make it across the Park by paralleling one of the streets that cuts across the park.
Sadly, I'm not too impressed by the north side of the park. The Pool and the Reservoir were pretty enough. I couldn't figure out what The Loch was supposed to be, the Ravine was closed off, and everything else was very pragmatic: tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and runner's tracks.
When I get home I walk back and forth an extra block, to hit 40,000 steps for the day. Almost 18 miles.
I start looking for a map so I can reorient myself, and attempt to set out west again.
Nine Hours Earlier.
I hit the subway for the first time on my fourth full day in New York. I hope that it won't be too crowded because it's already a bit after 9am ... but not so much.
When the "6" pulls up just after I descend into the station, it's entirely jammed. I start walking to the front of the train, hoping that the front cars will be emptier, and it looks like they have at least some tight standing room, but then the doors closed.
I'm not too upset.
A few minutes later the "4" pulls up, and it's almost as packed, but I'm at the front of the train now, so I manage to squeeze on.
This turns out to be a very fortuitous thing. I hadn't understood why the "4", "5", and "6" all ran on the same line. It turns out that the "6" is a local and the "4" is an express — meaning it goes faster because it skips stations. Since I'm going all the way to Brooklyn this is great.
The trip apparently takes longer than usual because the express train is running on the local tracks for the first several stations, which is how I was actually able to catch it. The operator says this is because "several people were sick on our trains".
As we approach lower Manhattan, I finally am able to sit down.
Meanwhile, the "4" has switched back to the express tracks and we're speeding along.
When I land in Brooklyn, I feel like I should look around, because when am I ever going to be in Brooklyn again?
(Maybe tomorrow; plans are undecided.)
I do walk through a few veteran's parks, but I make continual progress toward my destination: the Brooklyn Bridge.
It is a totally awesome walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. You have the Lower Manhattan skyline ahead, growing ever closer. The Manhattan Bridge is off to the right. And off to the left, somewhat in the distance, is the Statue of Liberty.
The whole walk is on a wood-plank walkway, which feels old and archaic. The path is divided between pedestrians and bicyclists, but often the pedestrians spill out into the bicyclist side (sometimes because the route is blocked, sometimes because the other pedestrians are slow, sometimes just because). The bicyclists are clearly used to navigating this because they're constantly ringing their bells as they're approaching and/or screaming at the top of their lungs, "BIKE!!!"
The whole way across the Bridge the One World Trade Center is growing bigger. I decide I'll regret it if I don't visit Ground Zero, even though I feel ghoulishly touristy for doing so. But, it was an important, shocking moment in my life too.
I'm glad I do. Ground Zero has one of the most moving monuments I've seen. The Vietnam Memorial is the only one that compares.
There are two great square pools, representing the twin towers. Each is set into the ground, with water cascading down the sides to gather in a pool far below ground level. Then they plunge down an even deeper shaft in the middle, to who knows where. Along the sides of the pool is a dark, deep metal railing with the names of the lost carved into it.
The cascading water reminds me of the people jumping from the buildings on that terrible day, of the towers suddenly cascading down like waterfalls themselves. The further drop down the shaft feels like a dive into the abyss, like something lost forever. And lest we lose the human perspective, there are the names.
It's almost horrifying, this monument, but it's one of the most moving and brilliant pieces of art I've ever seen. It's a falling tower, an inverse tower, and purifying water all at once.
I have tears running down my face when I turn away from the pool (and again while I write).
(Pictures don't do it justice, but this is the best I see.)
It almost seems impossible to transition away from that. I successful do so this morning by using my feet. I plan to take the subway to the High Line Park, but Google maps says taking the subway will take almost as much time as walking. Since I don't consider my footsteps a finite resource, I walk.
Happily this brings me to the Hudson River Greenway. This is what I hoped for when I walked further up the Hudson, but did not find. It's a beautiful walk right along the river, with plenty of seating and all kinds of sports and lots of playgrounds. It's beautiful.
I eat lunch at Brookfield Place. It's the the complex formerly known as the World Financial Center. Lots of financial buildings, connected to an upscale mall. I totally splurge for this one meal, and have some tacos with guacamole and some chips and then a dark chocolate cupcake. Total damage of $19 is ridiculously cheap for the upscaleness of the place.
It's all pretty tasty too.
It's a long walk, but I eventually make it to the Highline Park. It's exactly what I hoped for, a really beautiful linear park, cutting through the city skyline. It literally goes through some buildings, presumably because they were built around the original railway.
I'd never considered what a great pathway this is through the city, but it totally is. If I was walking from one place to another connected by the Park, I'd totally take it rather than city streets.
I'm also surprised by how crowded it is. It's only a few years old, but it's come under heavy use for walking and sitting alike.
I hadn't planned to stop at Mood Fabrics, but I realize it's just three short blocks from my subway stop. So I stop in. I'm somewhat surprised to discover it's not at street level. Project Runway implies otherwise, but you actually go into a building lobby and a lift attendant takes you up to the third floor, and then you emerge into Mood, which covers the second, third, and fourth floors.
I enjoy looking around a bit, to put Project Runway's many visits there into context, but I do feel like an intruder since the majority of the visitors actually seem to be buying fabric.
I also get the context of the area. It's in the Garment District, and there are couture dress stores all around. Even the near restaurants are clothing themed.
Finally, I get back on the train, having walked from Brooklyn to the Garment District via the Civic Center, West Chelsea, the Meatpacking District, the Hudson Yards and probably a few others.
Using my newfound subway skills I take the express "A" instead of the local "C". This actually takes some effort because you have to go under the local tracks to find the express tracks, but I figure it out.
I was a bit worried about the length of time it'd take to get to the Cloisters, where I'm going, but it's about 20 minutes from the Garments District there. It really helps that the express train skips the entirety of Central Park, going from 59th to 125th with no stops.
The Cloisters are in Fort Tryon, and it's beautiful. It's a gorgeous green and wooded area, overlooking the Hudson. There is also weird, medieval-looking stonework and buildings here and there. And there's more wildlife than I've seen anywhere else in New York. Faded-out gray squirrels, an ominous black squirrel that threatens to charge me a few times, a ground hog, and tons of birds.
If I was going to live in New York, I'd want to live somewhere up here, because it takes a similar amount of time to get downtown from here on the Express as it did on the tight, cramped train I took this morning.
The Cloisters itself is a Met museum focused on medieval art. I was less than enthused coming in, because I thought that meant paintings, and medieval paintings are pretty bleh. But it turns out to mean everything. I love the stained glass. I love the jewelry. I love the gardens they have set up, filled with medieval stonework. (It's all imported from various places in Europe and is all genuinely medieval.) But I'm most awed by the unicorn tapestry room. I just turn a corner and I'd suddenly in a room with all these original medieval tapestries that I've seen before. I look at them all carefully for quite a while, then just sit and stare some more.
I'm feeling increasingly comfortable with the trains. (I hope that statement doesn't bite me in the butt when I take them back to JFK tomorrow.) I easily hop on the express, then transfer over to the local several stops down, so I can actually get off at Central Park.
I get off at 103rd with the goal being to cut across the park, and see a bit of the northern park that I hadn't seen before.
Unfortunately I keep getting turned around and ending up back at Central Park West, which of course runs along the west side of the park. (Part of the problem is that I've run out my iPhone battery, so can't use Google Maps to navigate; the other part of the problem is that I'm not familiar enough with the skylines to easily say which direction is which.)
At one point I end up on a running track around the reservoir. I'm forced to go counterclockwise "for my safety". And I of course end up back at Central Park West.
I finally make it across the Park by paralleling one of the streets that cuts across the park.
Sadly, I'm not too impressed by the north side of the park. The Pool and the Reservoir were pretty enough. I couldn't figure out what The Loch was supposed to be, the Ravine was closed off, and everything else was very pragmatic: tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and runner's tracks.
When I get home I walk back and forth an extra block, to hit 40,000 steps for the day. Almost 18 miles.