New York at night (again)
When I finished my work today, I wandered around Manhattan. It was rush hour, 5.30pm, so wandering wasn’t the most relaxing of activities. One woman hissed at me as I snapped a photo (‘Jesus!’) and at Grand Central Station as I paused to get my bearings, a passing man clicked his tongue. What of it! On another day, with a different deadline, that would be me. And who cares! (I say that with the appropriate measure of NYC self-involvement). My stroll helped to crystalise for me something that’s special, maybe unique, about New York — the light. And the lights. A city that’s grotty as hell in daylight becomes fantastical, romantic, imperial at night. Each window glitters as if representing a single soul (though I imagine there are far more people than windows here); the traffic lights add colour, and the cars add more light still. This is what makes a place like Times Square bearable, when in truth it’s a Disnified dive.
My walk took me to Park Ave. by 51st Street, which counts as Mid-town but is much classier than the Times Square area, and separated from it by Bryant Park. The Waldorf-Astoria is there, and banks like JP Morgan-Chase. It’s a few swift New York strides from Grand Central Station. And a recommendation for you: there’s an Oyster Bar in the station; I haven’t visited it myself, but it is apparently an excellent city hideaway if you’re looking for a civilized place to drink.
The pics below give a record of my tracks. At Grand Central, I took the train home — to Brooklyn.