COMING INTO NEW YORK, the attraction I had been the most excited for was the Statue of Liberty. I came away with another favorite: the High Line (and it’s free!).
Located on the West side of Manhattan, the High Line is an old elevated railroad transformed into an urban walkway that snakes its way between some of the most ultramodern apartments you’ve ever seen, flowering trees, and secretive murals. It stretches almost one and a half miles and rises about 30 feet above the streets. You can start from Chelsea or the West Side Yard and 34th, but if you start on that latter northern end, you come out with a view of the Statue of Liberty and the extremely charming Little Island park that boasts kids’ activities & music, a bayside stage, stunning views, and (overpriced) street food.
We got off the subway at 34 Hudson Yards
and searched for a way up that had an elevator. Our first try the elevator worked
but the overpass joining the High Line was closed, so we had to cross a couple
streets to another elevator near 31st Street and Dyer Avenue (Moynihan
Connector – also has a restroom). This time, it opened up right to the urban
walkway. That was the moment our two year old decided to have a full-on meltdown;
the sun beat down mercilessly, and we were all a bit frazzled from the journey
over just to reach the dang thing. However, once we got into the rhythm of
walking (and snacks, bring snacks!), the tears subsided. I didn’t expect us to
do the whole thing, but sure enough, it felt like we reached Chelsea in no
time. There were plenty of fun things for kids to do along the way, including
little slides toward the end. Quite a gem!
I checked the weather as soon as we
got back to the hotel: still rainy for our Statue of Liberty day. We’d bought
tickets ahead of time on https://statuecitycruises.com/,
the official ticket seller for trips to the Statues. Refunds were available up
to 24 hours in advance, but when would we be here again? However, the weather
held for our next day outing to the Freedom Tower.
This was another experience not to
be missed. It was a very distance memory I had of the original Trade Towers. I’d
been in grade school riding the school bus, when a friend had boarded and
blurted out what had happened. The rest of the day was a blur, although I still
remember George W Bush’s speech and feeling more united as a country than ever,
in anger and grief. Visiting now with the next generation who had no memory of
the event, indeed, born even after the Iraq War ended, was a strange feeling—explaining
the names they were seeing inscribed all around the fountain footprints of the
towers, seeing the names of the flights, and then gazing up at the new Freedom
Tower.
We visited Wall Street after—it’s about
a twelve minute walk. I reflected in a park with the kids while my husband took
a swift jaunt to see the sights, and the Bull, mobbed by tourists. Then we
caught the subway back to our hotel, lost in myriad thoughts of the day. It truly is humbling the amount of sights to see, whether you're walking above the city streets or among them (to be continued).
Disclaimer:
The above is depicted as fiction, not fact.
