Gramercy Park
The seats were nosebleed, but it was James Gandolfini, live, on stage in the best production of the theater season.
I could only be in New York City.
Just weeks after the Tony awards I took a ‘vacation’ with my sister in New York City. We filled 3 days with a variety of New-York activities, and many times throughout I asked myself, ‘How have I never done this before?!’ That weekday afternoon, for the first time, I marched myself into the box office and bought tickets for the afternoon matinee. A slice of pizza later, the curtain was coming up on the 90-minute comedy, ‘God of Carnage.’
I had woken up in the 5-star, art-rich, Gramercy Park Hotel. Perched on the 10th floor overlooking the only private park in New York, I was thrilled to be home in my native Northeast. The longer you’ve been away, the more powerful recognition becomes. From accents to touches on the plate, a good dose of home was just what I needed.
On assignment for Luxury Travel Magazine, I was stationed down in the beautiful Gramercy neighborhood, a historic area in walking distance to the action of the lower east side and the village. To read my ‘Weekend Indulgence’ Column on New York City, click here.
On our first day, at sunset, we entered the high-speed elevators and rose to the top of the Empire State Building. I had planned on doing it many times before, aware that the building stays open to visitors as late as midnight or 1am. I had also been told by friends that the best time to go is sunset, where you can enjoy the cityscape in a variety of colors. We were patient, and after the oranges of sunset faded, got to watch the city light up. For an extra 15$, we made our way to the 102nd floor, the highest observatory in the building.
View from the top of the Empire State Building
I’m not sure if I was prepared for just how brilliant the view would be. Of course I’d seen the photographs and heard people talk about their experiences, but to step out, beyond the glass, and be floating above Manhattan was a moment of exhilaration I hadn’t anticipated. We had just walked past the Flatiron building, and at that perspective, from above, it seemed to be the tiniest, most insignificant speck of skyline.
Over the few days in New York we indulged in everything the city has to offer. From the bright lights of the theater district to late-night dining in the village at Mario Batali’s roman trattoria Lupa, my love for the city was ignited again. We walked the Brooklyn Bridge, had brunch on Irving Place, and ate American comfort food of pulled pork, fried chicken and macaroni and cheese at Blue Smoke.
Candles burned on tables late into the night somewhere on Thompson Street, the only glow in a pub we found ourselves in after dinner. Over a microbrew I thought how the energy of New York is often mimicked, but never duplicated. During my brief time in the States I got to refill my tank on the energy pulsing in the streets, as powerful as the applause when the curtain dropped on Broadway that Thursday afternoon, my stomach sore from laughter.
