November 12, 2016 marked the first time I visited the Empire State in the city of my dreams. As ridiculous as it may have been not having previously visited, I’d tell people how much I wanted to live in New York and how the city was just the place for me. It was like a myth, and no city could ever compare. When people would ask me, “Oh, have you been there before?” I’d quickly respond, “No, but I just know.”
And now, I do really know that it is the state of my dreams. Going to New York was second best travel experience I’ve had, second to my high school senior trip to Universal Studios (where I indulged in Harry Potter World). It’s amazing, because even though I have now been to the amazing state, I realize that I did not see the parts of it that I initially really wanted to, and despite this it was so wonderful, so blissful. Yet I know New York and its ravishing city is far more extensive, and I couldn’t reasonably hope to see its full beauty in 7 hours and 45 minutes. Yet, it was the start, and it showed me why I could be in love with New York even from such a distance as Florida.
The bus had two main stops: The Metropolitan Museum (The Met), which is close to Harlem, and the Rockefeller Center. We had originally planned to go to the Rockefeller Center, but got off by The Met instead. I made my friend walk half a mile to get Jamaican food, because as a Jamaican living in South Hadley where there is no where to get any, it simply had to be done.
Oxtail with Rice and Peas
Then, after we ate, we trekked our way to Central Park and basked in its infinite beauty. We followed the trail by the lake and I thought how lucky I was to be there. In the summer, I’d see the posts from my friend at Syracuse as she took modelesque pictures in Central Park and longed for time when I’d finally go.
Lake by trail in Central Park
But the best part of the whole trip was The Met, we walked around for three hours and we barely saw anything. Most of it was just walking through and stopping when something caught our eyes. We tended to focus on African, Native American, and East Asian art. There was a piece of art by Thomas Hart Benton, titled “America Today” that caught our attention, it’s brights colors beckoning us. In fact the painting took up a whole room. It was beautiful. The color schemes went so well together, and the story of a developing America was so intricate. My favorite part about this artwork was that it didn’t only tell a story, but it also showed the wrongdoing of our nation as a part of that story.
Part of “America Today,” by Thomas Hart Benton
The Plaza Hotel
The hotel was massive, as I should have expected; it was like it contained another city altogether. The warmth it provided and the scent of all sorts of foods made us wish we could stay, but we knew we could never afford to buy anything much in there. (This was reaffirmed when we saw a sweater selling for over $200 in one of its many boutiques.) It was beautiful, nonetheless, and I felt happy standing in the hotel where one of my favorite childhood movies was filmed. We mostly loitered after this on the cold and windy New York City night. We got some street food and watched the hustle and bustle about us. We marveled at the horse-drawn carriages as well as their hefty prices.
NY, city of my dreams
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