There are only 3 basic activities I share with my daughter in New York City.
Eat. Talk. Walk.
She has been there for 5 years now. We no longer visit Times Square, Broadway, Rockefeller Center or even Central Park. It has all been done. And done well.
A recent visit there reflects our common interest. We walk and eat our way through the city, at some areas less-traveled. The conversation goes on until we lose our voice.
It has always been our special connection. She was walking and talking by 8 months. My husband and son have always been the strong, silent type.
Or maybe they just can’t get a word in “edgewise”.
We walked the Highline this time, a 3 mile round trip known as a “park in the sky”. It is a lovely re-purpose of an abandoned, elevated rail line that meanders through the NY skyline along the Hudson River. On a sunny 65 degree day in Spring, it was just about perfection.
It was at the end of a day when we had already walked through Greenwich Village, Washington Square Park, Chelsea Market, stopping only for the obligatory “slice” of NY Pizza, visiting her yoga studio, and browsing the miles of bookshelves at the Strand Book Store.
Having always been fascinated with the city, I was propelled once again by a kind of manic energy that would only be thwarted by the screams from my “older lady” legs and feet.
We met her husband back at Chelsea Market for dinner. I volunteered to hold our table while they visited several different ethnic vendors to assemble our meal.
We hiked back to the subway for our 40 minute ride to Brooklyn, standing room only. Ouch.
We slept well.
The next morning, with fresh insoles and renewed voice, we headed out to Prospect Park.