A weekend in New York City will forever remain one of the most fantastically fabulous travel destinations of all time…and that is exactly how I would describe my time in NYC.
The combination of NYC Pride and America’s new law on same-sex marriage made this specific weekend in NYC the ultimate destination for culture, celebration and camaraderie. I felt very much part of this massive metropolis as I and a million of my closest friends all danced, ‘cheers’ed’ and sang the nights away.
I wasn’t a ‘typical tourist’ which for me means that I didn’t ‘hop on or hop off’ anything, I didn’t carry a large camera and backpack, and I didn’t go up the Empire State Building. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good tourist attraction but my assignment (given to me by one of my editors) was to curate where to stay, eat and play for a stylishly chic, deliciously indulgent weekend in NYC.
For years New York City has had an aura and allure. From it’s colonial birth a few hundred years ago to the mecca of culture, finance and food it has become, New York City represents hope, freedom, autonomy -(Freedom in a George Michael way and not in a George Dubya way). America’s gritty evolution has always been romanticized from Willa Cather’s O’Pioneer, a novel on Americans settling in the original Mid West to Theodore Driesder’s Sister Carrie, a thinly veiled commentary on America’s industrial revolution and the simultaneous failure of humanity in the process. From ‘rags to richess’ but also from richess to rags, hero or villain, New York remains a place of chance, luck and undying hope.
The city is always buzzing, a white noise of traffic, sirens and chatter. In a way, it calmed me, soothed me, reminding me of my days as a nomad in London, England, feeding off of that same lightning energy that a city exudes. I like to think of these major cities as bi-polar: When they are good, they are overwhelmingly amazing but when they are bad, it can feel like that blessed anonymity is suffocating.
Although my time in the city was limited I felt that I a) completed my assignment (stay tuned for that) and b) was able to glance at that famous American dream in the people I met, the streets I walked and the creative curiosity that seems to fuel them all…or at least that is how I saw it. Even as I type, I am shaking my head, attempting to articulate what singers, poets and actors have tried to capture for years: There is just SOMETHING about New York.
I guess what I’m saying is that every song, every poem, every artist who laments this city (good or bad) is right:
New York is not just a city- It’s a feeling.