Mama Takes a Trip to the Big City and Wants to Move There
It is impossible not to feel completely blown away the first time you land in the big city. The buildings, the scale is so much larger than life, that you have no choice but to feel overwhelmed stepping in, no matter how many times you have been there before.
My first glimpse of the city through the windows of the airport shuttle was going over the Williamsburg Bridge. Along the highway, one sees acres and acres of rolling hills covered with headstones. And behind that, like a much larger version of the same thing, the Manhattan skyline.
After that initial scale shock comes the near-death-by-taxi (or in this case, Airport Shuttle) experience - which I always have. You see your life flash before your eyes, then SLAM on the brakes, and the people cross over the crosswalk in something like slow motion before you.
I drop off my bags at the Chelsea Lodge (cute, very cute, and not super expensive) and then set out to aimlessly wander for about four hours. Plans escape me and maps become obsolete. In any and every direction, I walk blocks and blocks and absorb everything around me. At some point, I realize I've had nothing to eat all day and I have no idea where I am. I see a subway entrance and go down, still with no direction. I get on a train, go a few stops and realize I'm in Queens. It is quieter there, but I am not ready for that yet. I turn around and go back. Central Park. 70 degrees in January. There are lanes of runners and bikers and families and people covering every little part of each path. Get a grip, Mama Jens. Jump into a taxi. Back at my hotel. Eyes red. Head dizzy. I look like I've been smoking crack all afternoon. I wash my hands. I sit on the bed and try to stop spinning.
Day 2: I wake up at 7am. Eyes wide, heart thumping in my refreshing morning panic attack style. I find my way from bed to shower (if the bed were any closer, it would be in the shower). I squeeze inside and wonder how anyone with body fat would fit in there. Then I'm off to find coffee and 4 GB cards for my camera. People are amazingly friendly, and I wonder why NYC has a negative reputation in that respect. Everyone seems helpful and loveable. I want to kiss them all. I get all my photo stuff together and jump in another death taxi. I think that if I have to spend $200 in taxis on my trip, it will be money well spent. For a moment, I like going fast. I like seeing all the buildings and streets and districts rushing past me. Mama Jens loves taxis, and if you you don't get me killed, you get a big tip. I reel from the chaos and wondering if the people that live there ever experience it any differently. I spend all day taking photos up in the big park. It is good fun and I enjoy interacting with the other humans. When this is over, I head to Tribeca via tea in Greenwich Village for yoga at Kula Yoga. This is the first yoga class that kicks my ass totally. There are like sixty people crammed into a teeny, 100 degree room and the teacher is this awesome, energetic, guy with piles of dreadlocks who just walks in 20 minutes late and is like, "Let's do some fucking yoga!" The beautiful men and women enter a space unlike any other for something like 2 and a half hours and I think, "Oh, this is how they survive in the city." At the end, I am sweating as though I had just run up and down 8000 subway steps and I feel amazing. Another taxi and I am back in my room, passing out at 10pm.
Day 3: It is raining, so I can't take more photos like I had planned. I go back to Cafe Gitanes in Nolita where we went last time and have a croissant and some coffee. I wander around in the rain for awhile before I decide it isn't such a good idea with the equipment getting all wet. I do some shopping and then stop at beautiful Italian wine bar somewhere around Broadway in Soho (I wish I remembered the name) and have an incredible glass of wine in broad daylight. In the evening, I meet an old friend.
Day 4: An emotional morning. Feeling fully adjusted to city life again and it only took 4 days. I go to the same coffee shop. I feel the comforts of a neighborhood feeling around where I am staying. I am in love with this city. I go down to the World Trade Center site and take pictures of cranes and business men getting their shoes polished around Wall Street. I head back through China town, where I really enjoy the eye candy. I buy a fan for one of my daughters and a silk wallet for the other. I head back to Chelsea for a bowl of soup at a nondescript restaurant where I have eaten most of my meals. Then, I find the galleries. Blocks and blocks of old brick warehouses. Not much info on the outsides, apart from the occassional, discreet sign that clues you into the fact that there is something inside. I go in a few. Galleries upon galleries upon galleries. I wander for hours and find myself impressed and inspired by the paintings and photographs within. Then, I spend some time being a voyeur. It is dark now, and I can see right inside those beautiful houses, many of them single family homes. I see their light fixtures and staircases and wonder about their histories. At 7, it is time for the Emily Haines concert at the Hiro Ballroom. Beautiful, stylish New Yorkers file in and sit down. Nothing here feels down to earth. I enjoy the music, but reject the scene. I find my way back to my room, and go to sleep.
Day 5: Jet Blue back to Raleigh. Without you, we'd just be flying a bunch of TVs around the country. Jet Blue rocks totally.
Very nice to make a Mama Trip, but VERY hard to adjust to the reality of life again. Days later, I feel whole again.
And so here's what's happening here, we are seriously considering a move to the big city, folks. I realized there, but mostly when I came back, that I felt infinitely more comfortable in the urban jungle. To check for idealistic projections, we will make yet another trip beginning of April to check it out family style and see if that is ultimately where our adventure is leading us. We kind of saw it coming, but it happened sooner than we thought. We love it here too, and it was perfect for the transition from Berlin, but boy oh boy is the big city calling us. Cast your votes today for or against. And make your recommendations on neighborhoods. Think: schools, parks, love, rent.
In the meantime, we are just doing our research and enjoying and appreciating life here. Namely the quiet. It is sooooo quiet. Outside, quiet (apart from the occasional prancing feet of deer and a distant car on Franklin Street). Inside, quiet (no TV this week...a nice, refreshing experiment in creativity and imagination for our children). Metaphysically, quiet. Give us our neurosis back!!!!!
I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Love, Mama Jens
My first glimpse of the city through the windows of the airport shuttle was going over the Williamsburg Bridge. Along the highway, one sees acres and acres of rolling hills covered with headstones. And behind that, like a much larger version of the same thing, the Manhattan skyline.
After that initial scale shock comes the near-death-by-taxi (or in this case, Airport Shuttle) experience - which I always have. You see your life flash before your eyes, then SLAM on the brakes, and the people cross over the crosswalk in something like slow motion before you.
I drop off my bags at the Chelsea Lodge (cute, very cute, and not super expensive) and then set out to aimlessly wander for about four hours. Plans escape me and maps become obsolete. In any and every direction, I walk blocks and blocks and absorb everything around me. At some point, I realize I've had nothing to eat all day and I have no idea where I am. I see a subway entrance and go down, still with no direction. I get on a train, go a few stops and realize I'm in Queens. It is quieter there, but I am not ready for that yet. I turn around and go back. Central Park. 70 degrees in January. There are lanes of runners and bikers and families and people covering every little part of each path. Get a grip, Mama Jens. Jump into a taxi. Back at my hotel. Eyes red. Head dizzy. I look like I've been smoking crack all afternoon. I wash my hands. I sit on the bed and try to stop spinning.
Day 2: I wake up at 7am. Eyes wide, heart thumping in my refreshing morning panic attack style. I find my way from bed to shower (if the bed were any closer, it would be in the shower). I squeeze inside and wonder how anyone with body fat would fit in there. Then I'm off to find coffee and 4 GB cards for my camera. People are amazingly friendly, and I wonder why NYC has a negative reputation in that respect. Everyone seems helpful and loveable. I want to kiss them all. I get all my photo stuff together and jump in another death taxi. I think that if I have to spend $200 in taxis on my trip, it will be money well spent. For a moment, I like going fast. I like seeing all the buildings and streets and districts rushing past me. Mama Jens loves taxis, and if you you don't get me killed, you get a big tip. I reel from the chaos and wondering if the people that live there ever experience it any differently. I spend all day taking photos up in the big park. It is good fun and I enjoy interacting with the other humans. When this is over, I head to Tribeca via tea in Greenwich Village for yoga at Kula Yoga. This is the first yoga class that kicks my ass totally. There are like sixty people crammed into a teeny, 100 degree room and the teacher is this awesome, energetic, guy with piles of dreadlocks who just walks in 20 minutes late and is like, "Let's do some fucking yoga!" The beautiful men and women enter a space unlike any other for something like 2 and a half hours and I think, "Oh, this is how they survive in the city." At the end, I am sweating as though I had just run up and down 8000 subway steps and I feel amazing. Another taxi and I am back in my room, passing out at 10pm.
Day 3: It is raining, so I can't take more photos like I had planned. I go back to Cafe Gitanes in Nolita where we went last time and have a croissant and some coffee. I wander around in the rain for awhile before I decide it isn't such a good idea with the equipment getting all wet. I do some shopping and then stop at beautiful Italian wine bar somewhere around Broadway in Soho (I wish I remembered the name) and have an incredible glass of wine in broad daylight. In the evening, I meet an old friend.
Day 4: An emotional morning. Feeling fully adjusted to city life again and it only took 4 days. I go to the same coffee shop. I feel the comforts of a neighborhood feeling around where I am staying. I am in love with this city. I go down to the World Trade Center site and take pictures of cranes and business men getting their shoes polished around Wall Street. I head back through China town, where I really enjoy the eye candy. I buy a fan for one of my daughters and a silk wallet for the other. I head back to Chelsea for a bowl of soup at a nondescript restaurant where I have eaten most of my meals. Then, I find the galleries. Blocks and blocks of old brick warehouses. Not much info on the outsides, apart from the occassional, discreet sign that clues you into the fact that there is something inside. I go in a few. Galleries upon galleries upon galleries. I wander for hours and find myself impressed and inspired by the paintings and photographs within. Then, I spend some time being a voyeur. It is dark now, and I can see right inside those beautiful houses, many of them single family homes. I see their light fixtures and staircases and wonder about their histories. At 7, it is time for the Emily Haines concert at the Hiro Ballroom. Beautiful, stylish New Yorkers file in and sit down. Nothing here feels down to earth. I enjoy the music, but reject the scene. I find my way back to my room, and go to sleep.
Day 5: Jet Blue back to Raleigh. Without you, we'd just be flying a bunch of TVs around the country. Jet Blue rocks totally.
Very nice to make a Mama Trip, but VERY hard to adjust to the reality of life again. Days later, I feel whole again.
And so here's what's happening here, we are seriously considering a move to the big city, folks. I realized there, but mostly when I came back, that I felt infinitely more comfortable in the urban jungle. To check for idealistic projections, we will make yet another trip beginning of April to check it out family style and see if that is ultimately where our adventure is leading us. We kind of saw it coming, but it happened sooner than we thought. We love it here too, and it was perfect for the transition from Berlin, but boy oh boy is the big city calling us. Cast your votes today for or against. And make your recommendations on neighborhoods. Think: schools, parks, love, rent.
In the meantime, we are just doing our research and enjoying and appreciating life here. Namely the quiet. It is sooooo quiet. Outside, quiet (apart from the occasional prancing feet of deer and a distant car on Franklin Street). Inside, quiet (no TV this week...a nice, refreshing experiment in creativity and imagination for our children). Metaphysically, quiet. Give us our neurosis back!!!!!
I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Love, Mama Jens
posted by mama jens at 2:26 AM
3 Comments:
I love it ... NYC was my home for 30 years ... and it still flows through my veins, my heart ... my soul is all about it.
If you have the dough ... Go !
There is no place like NYC.
Though I love to explore and travel, I honestly find it hard to read a map. That’s why I always use the airport shuttle to tour me around the city and bring me to my destination. I can’t imagine how traumatic it was for you to be in an accident. By the way, have you already moved to the city?
-Trudi Thorburn
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