My friend was a tick offended when I said that The High Line in West Manhattan was a joke – she thinks the fact that they turned old railroad tracks into a green space is fantastic (from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District to West 34th Street, between
10th & 11th Avenues).
Sure, I get it, green is good – however it’s still a glorified boardwalk with limited views (except of the The Standard Hotel, which apparently is quite interesting at night) and mundane landscaping (not to mention it was too crowded to actually relax).
I can see how the locals appreciate it, given how a city of that size can easily suffocate someone, and I suppose it’s better than run-down tracks.
But let’s call a spade a spade, all right? Look, I’m not here to insult anyone or any city, but visiting the High Line as an outsider gave me some extreme perspective – totally clarifying why I would never make it more than a year in a place like New York (I think you can live happily anywhere for a year).
To me, it’s sort of crazy to see how these people live, completely content to let makeshift parks like the High Line satisfy their craving for nature.
Man, I would completely lose my freaking mind.
Central Park, on the other hand, was a different story – I was quite impressed.
That’s for later, though – I’m headed into Philadelphia again to relax with friends near Penn’s Landing, taking in the views of the Ben Franklin Bridge and hopefully catching a breeze by the Delaware River.