Before going our separate ways, Isabelle and I spent the last day wandering around the city and meeting up with and making new friends.
On this day, Is also finally managed to score a (classically soft, warm, smile-worthy) pretzel on our way to the subway.
Something to note is that we are so spoiled to have everything relatively close by in Boston (except to the Hill which is basically a trek across all of Massachusetts), so walking around the city non-stop everyday was pretty taxing. Not only did it leave us with blisters, but quite the appetite, too. So, a few hours later, we met up with city folk friends and went out for the last dinner.
I tell you, there is nothing you cannot find in this city. Including a restaurant that revolves around meatballs. It's like my childhood on steroids. Nothing beats a good meatball in my book and walking around Greenwich to find this gem of a restaurant called The Meatball Shop was most definitely worth it.
Like I said, childhood on steroids.
This shop is worth a stop in the area. But here's a final summary to sell you:
- Da food: the meatballs were delicious. My only complaint is that it's not terribly filling unless you get at least 3 meatballs and maybe even a side. Great if you're looking for a light dinner, though.
- Da environment: super cozy. Very vintage, homey and (overall) very New York.
- Da price: $$
I've procrastinated writing this post because in a way, I feel like that means the journey really is over. This place captured me like a fish in a net and I was caught so off guard that the only thing I could do was experience it with wide eyes.
The minute I stepped off the train at Penn, I was swept away. Swept away from the crowds of people, swept away by how fast everything moves and swept away by everything you can do. It was like being drunk and sober all at the same time. Things were ebbing and flowing around me and all I could do was let my mind become overloaded and drink it all in. I was terrified but simultaneously thrilled by it all.
They really don't lie to you when they say everyone in the city is interesting. They all have a story, something that's contributed to their uniqueness and something that they have to contribute to the city to continue making it unique. I was sitting on the subway on my way to the train to Jersey when I looked up and saw a guy sketching me. I couldn't help but blush, but more importantly be inspired by him. He's doing something he loves and actually does it. And as he continued sketching everyone on my subway bench, I scribbled the thoughts that came rushing into my head. My favorite one being:
"The people in this city share such incredibly uniqueness within themselves but simultaneously share such incredible differences. But nonetheless, it's incredible how this big world of strangers can feel infinitely smaller with the glance and exchange of a smile. "
New York embraces you like a Venus flytrap. First, it attracts you in with its vibrant colors and intricate shape. But before you know it, it collapses itself around you, completely consuming you, and breaks down all your fears, reservations and insecurities. This process is what draws in so many interesting people - people filled with wonder and admiration for this complex, but spectacular organism - and is the reason why so many great ideas blossom from it.
Besides a hole in my heart, leaving the city has left us with peculiar smells impregnated in our cloths: the smell of wonder in our beanies, the smell of adventure in our boots, and the smell of excitement deep in our skin. They don't say, "You can take the girl out of the hood, but you can't take the hood out of the girl" for nothing.
New York, you live up to and surpass every expectation I had about you. You're one cheeky devil and I can't wait to come back again to take on newer and bigger adventures.