The last day of our trip and it’s NOT raining. In fact, aside from the air being colder and crisper than the previous three days, it’s sunny.
We’re a bit slow this morning, managing to get out of the apartment mid-morning. We check out this clothing store in the neighbourhood, which is boasting a sale. I snap up a t-shirt – not on sale, mind you. But I think it’s cute enough for the price.
The rest of the time spent in New York isn’t necessarily to go to specific places of interest. Our plan is to do a lot of walking – with the end goal of attempting to reach SoHo and Greenwich Village at the very least. We end up making stops for coffee, at Victoria’s Secret and Barnes and Noble, and more coffee (or in my case, a chai latte).
We get as far down as the outer reaches of Greenwich Village – passing through Washington Square and the park near the NYU campus – before having to hop in a cab and hot-footing it back to the apartment.
Just as we start getting a feel for the city (and the pedestrian crossings) … it’s over. Like that.
I don’t think the realization it’s the end of the trip, sinks in when we arrive at the airport … nor while shoved in between between these uppity teachers and students from a frou-frou private school on our hour-long flight on the plane … nor even when we arrive back at C’s apartment back in Toronto to chill.
It’s when I’m back at my desk at work the following day, staring at my computer, wondering where the time went. No – it doesn’t feel like I never left. But I’m experiencing that pang of traveller’s melancholy I think a lot of people go through.
Ah, New York. I may not have gotten to see as much of you as I would have liked. But what I did see makes me regret not seeing you sooner.
I’ll return one of these days. You’ll see. You are, after all, only a one-hour plane ride away. And you’re too flashy to resist.
Although next time, I’ll make a point of seeing the Brooklyn Bridge – during the day.