From Sea to Shining City

I CAN’T SIT STILL.  If I can be doing something then I should obviously be doing something.  Especially when the weather is nice.  Yesterday after a morning run John and I got our lives in gear and headed to one of my favorite places (one of John’s least favorite places…)  

Manhattan, The Big Apple, The City.  

Something I adore about New York- it’s a huge and diverse state.  In two hours North I can be sitting in a tree enclosed backyard with my family, on top of hills and windy mountains, In two hours east I can be at the vineyards, In less then 1 hour I can be in the City, I can be on the beach in a few minutes.  If I feel like it I can go hiking, surfing, snowboarding, wake boarding, anything.  This state is my absolute favorite.  

John is not a huge City person, he prefers the ‘burbs, but he caters to my love of this place often enough to keep me happy.  In fact, while walking we had a debate.  John said the city seems like a terrible place to be a kid in, I said it is probably amazing.  Which led me to ask the four boys walking behind us their thoughts on the matter- why yes I am the creepy person.  

Here were their opinions on the issue at hand:

“I can go anywhere, and walk to anything”

“School is easy here!”

“The city is THE BOMB” (I didn’t even know people used that expression anymore… but it’s now in my lexicon again, thanks kid.)  

Talia- 1

John- 0

I guess John and I will have to agree to disagree, but now let me share with you one of my favorite places.  It involves a lot of food, and a lot of walking.  

Our first stop was the High Line.  Love, love, love, me some High Line.  If you are planning a city trip this is a place you need to go to.  If you live in the city and you haven’t been here go.  

In 1934 the elevated freight rail was opened to deliver products such as milk and meat throughout the west side of Manhattan.  It was created because the rails on the streets were dan-ger-ous (I’m talking about hitting and killing people at such an alarming rate that 10th Avenue became known as Death Avenue.)  By the 1950s the High Line was no longer essential due to the rise in interstate trucking.  It would be torn down in some sections and left neglected in others… I’m going to say that it looked a lot like a post-zombie apocalyptic world.  

One reason I love the High Line is because of the dichotomy of the whole thing.  It is a mix between industry, art, and botany. As you walk through the High Line, growing out of the mix of metals and concrete are beautiful flowers that flow throughout the 1 mile walk.  The architecture and modernity of the High Line is another part that fascinates me, because while it looks very masculine and rigid, there is a softness to it.  

For those of you that are thinking, shut up and just put in some pictures, here you go:

 

 

 

And then we decided to eat… and when we eat, we eat. 

I actually said, we need to talk about how good those pork tacos were about 20 minutes after eating them.

We walked until we reached the end of the High Line and then we met up with my sister from another mister.  She is my motivation, my drive, my best friend… the person I hate and love all at the same time.

As much as I love the city I can never get over the trendiness of the meat packing district.  There I was in my Forever 21 tank, target pants, and converse sneakers next to America’s Next Top Model.  Also, the 90s are coming back hard.  More so than last season.  How do I know?  Go to the meatpacking district and update your wardrobe, son.

We decided to meander to South Street Seaport.  And by meander I mean we walked 3 miles.  

Oh, I’m sorry.. were we caught posing with your birds?  Let’s continue on our journey downtown 

 

We parted ways and John and I continued on our food tour of Manhattan.  This led us to food trucks. My personal fav.

I just realized I finished the lobster roll.  

 

bacon covered in maple syrup. deliciousness.  

Next stop?  Ethiopian Food.  Yes, I said it… there was more food.  John and I had never tried Ethiopian and Groupon seemed to be telling us something.  We caught a cab and got ourselves some culture.  

 

After putting in a full shift of eating, we caught the 11:55 train home.  I will always love being a tourist in Manhattan.  I used to take it for granted and I never truly appreciated all that it had to offer.  I would visit other cities, talking about their cleanliness and history in comparison the the city in my backyard.  

I’m sorry Manhattan, I love you!  Never change!  

 

 

 

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