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Nov. 17th, 2004 01:33 amI started reading a book tonight...Salon.Com's Wanderlust...great book so far, lots of great stories about big and small adventures while travelling...the more I read into it, the more I think of one particular small adventure of my own...
Many of you know of my longstanding wanting to move to Providence, Rhode Island. Some of you know that I almost did move there, only months before I moved to Baltimore. Some of you have heard about the one morning that I spent there that inspired the whole thing, some of you have seen the photos....
Back in March/April of 2000 I went on vacation for two weeks.Started out with one Alpha Phi Omega sectional conference...ended up with another. First one was in New York City...went up on a Friday night, spenty that night at Dominique's with Friend and Andy. I had no plans for where I was going to stay beyond that, only that I had to eventually end up in Worcester, Massachusetts two weekends later. And this wasn't upstate New York where I knew everyone, this was New York City. Somehow it would all work out. Things always do for me.
Saturday night as the post-conference festivities were drawing to a close, I was invited to stay at the apartment of an alum for the night, which turned into "as long as I felt like". I spent days and evenings wandering around Manhattan, went to museums, drank lots of coffee and just watched everything. The apartment where I stayed was at 88th and Lexington...right next to the river. Tragic, I don't remember the name of my impromptu hostess. Was it Kate maybe? We emailed once or twice sometime after I got back to PA but lost touch pretty quickly. Her living room had a huge window that looked out on the river, I remember sitting up half of one night during a thunderstorm watching lightning flash across the water. I stayed there for a week before I went to Boston where I had a bit more of a plan...but not much.
I'd been invited to crash for a night at the apartment of yet another APO alum, Andy which is where I ended up staying until Friday when I was due to arrive in Worcester. Boston was also fun...I spent the days wandering around the city, doing pretty much the same thigns I did in New York. At night, I went back to Andy's when he came home from work and we went out for dinner or got pizza and watched cheesy anime (Ok, I thought it was cheesy, he actually was a pretty serious fan)
The week in Manhattan and 4 days in Boston certainly made for a great vacation...but if I had to skip it all, I would have if I could only have the 6 hours that I spent in Providence.
I left New York on Monday night on a train around one in the morning. The day was gorgeous. I left the apartment early in the day, stored my bags at Penn Station...and realized that I'd left a blanket behind...I took a bus back, collected the blanket and walked back to Penn Station...all 50 some odd blocks. I had lunch and stopped to visit friends at Hunter college, spent a couple of hours in a bookstore and just wandered aimlessly. It was late in the evening when I got back to the station. I gathered my bags and waited for the train. Somewhere in the middle of my boredom, knowing that Andy had to work all day, I decided to spend the next day in Providence and make my way to Boston in time to meet at the train station. The train ride....4 hours, was rainy and stormy and I prayed that it would stop by morning. It was still pouring when the train rolled into the station. I waited around for the luggage room to open and checked my bags there, grabbed my backpack and wandered outside, deciding to enjoy the morning rain or no rain. It got lighter, though it was gloomy and depressing. The rain eventually slowed and I set out across this city that was completely foreign to me, no idea where I was going or what I'd find.
What I found was the clouds eventually breaking as the sun rose. Everything sparkled brilliant and blinding from the rain. I found a sandwich shop and had breakfast and ventured out again. I don't know when exactly it dawned on me that the city was deserted. It was early on a Tuesday morning...the earliest risers at least should have been on their way to work but I saw no one. In the roll of photos that I took, there is not a single person. Its not because I avoided taking pictures of people, it's because there were no people. What there was was this beautiful city, abandoned just for me to spend the morning washed in dazzling light as I hiked up and down its streets. It may not sound so spectacular, but I almost cry thinking of my morning. Just me all alone with the city. If you've seen the pictures, you only get the vaguest hint of what I saw, and not even a shred of an idea of what I felt.
I couldn't tell you the names of any of the streets, how I got there or how I got back to thee train station. I remember the trees glittering like crystal with raindrops still falling from them, perfect reflections of old buildings in puddles on brick sidewalks, and feeling like I belonged in this unfamiliar place
I didn't spend the whole 6 hours wandering around...eventually the city did start to come alive and there were people. And traffic. I made my way back to the train station where I sat at a table in the little coffee shop and read a magazine, drank juice and wrote some post cards that I never sent before I picked up my bags, settled on one of the benches and dozed on and off for a few hours, being awoken every half hour or so by a station attendant who said he only wanted to make sure I didn't miss my train, thanking him each time and informing him that I didn't have to catch a particular train...only had to be in Boston sometime later that day.
This few hours all to myself with the illusion of an abandoned city on a beautiful morning...I would give up being a night person in a second if all mornings were like that...one of those experiences I couldn't live again in a million years no matter how I tried...a slice of my existence that I'd give anyhitng to have been able to share with someone...yet, I'd turn down the opportunity if it came along because it would have ruined it. In those hours, I felt completely surrounded by somethign not of this world...something divine. Maybe it was just too much light reflecting off of too many rain-soaked sidewalks affecting my brain. Or maybe it was what I needed to see my way out of what I thought was a hopless situation...I had been back from Texas a little over a year then and it was only about this time that I forced myself to stop being depressed about being dragged back to the East Coast. This is the morning that made me decide to move to Rhode Island...I haven't been back there since and I'm scared that if I go back I'll hate it after the memory of what was before, but I know if I never do I'll regret ot forever, and even if it's not the same never time, it might even be better...
Many of you know of my longstanding wanting to move to Providence, Rhode Island. Some of you know that I almost did move there, only months before I moved to Baltimore. Some of you have heard about the one morning that I spent there that inspired the whole thing, some of you have seen the photos....
Back in March/April of 2000 I went on vacation for two weeks.Started out with one Alpha Phi Omega sectional conference...ended up with another. First one was in New York City...went up on a Friday night, spenty that night at Dominique's with Friend and Andy. I had no plans for where I was going to stay beyond that, only that I had to eventually end up in Worcester, Massachusetts two weekends later. And this wasn't upstate New York where I knew everyone, this was New York City. Somehow it would all work out. Things always do for me.
Saturday night as the post-conference festivities were drawing to a close, I was invited to stay at the apartment of an alum for the night, which turned into "as long as I felt like". I spent days and evenings wandering around Manhattan, went to museums, drank lots of coffee and just watched everything. The apartment where I stayed was at 88th and Lexington...right next to the river. Tragic, I don't remember the name of my impromptu hostess. Was it Kate maybe? We emailed once or twice sometime after I got back to PA but lost touch pretty quickly. Her living room had a huge window that looked out on the river, I remember sitting up half of one night during a thunderstorm watching lightning flash across the water. I stayed there for a week before I went to Boston where I had a bit more of a plan...but not much.
I'd been invited to crash for a night at the apartment of yet another APO alum, Andy which is where I ended up staying until Friday when I was due to arrive in Worcester. Boston was also fun...I spent the days wandering around the city, doing pretty much the same thigns I did in New York. At night, I went back to Andy's when he came home from work and we went out for dinner or got pizza and watched cheesy anime (Ok, I thought it was cheesy, he actually was a pretty serious fan)
The week in Manhattan and 4 days in Boston certainly made for a great vacation...but if I had to skip it all, I would have if I could only have the 6 hours that I spent in Providence.
I left New York on Monday night on a train around one in the morning. The day was gorgeous. I left the apartment early in the day, stored my bags at Penn Station...and realized that I'd left a blanket behind...I took a bus back, collected the blanket and walked back to Penn Station...all 50 some odd blocks. I had lunch and stopped to visit friends at Hunter college, spent a couple of hours in a bookstore and just wandered aimlessly. It was late in the evening when I got back to the station. I gathered my bags and waited for the train. Somewhere in the middle of my boredom, knowing that Andy had to work all day, I decided to spend the next day in Providence and make my way to Boston in time to meet at the train station. The train ride....4 hours, was rainy and stormy and I prayed that it would stop by morning. It was still pouring when the train rolled into the station. I waited around for the luggage room to open and checked my bags there, grabbed my backpack and wandered outside, deciding to enjoy the morning rain or no rain. It got lighter, though it was gloomy and depressing. The rain eventually slowed and I set out across this city that was completely foreign to me, no idea where I was going or what I'd find.
What I found was the clouds eventually breaking as the sun rose. Everything sparkled brilliant and blinding from the rain. I found a sandwich shop and had breakfast and ventured out again. I don't know when exactly it dawned on me that the city was deserted. It was early on a Tuesday morning...the earliest risers at least should have been on their way to work but I saw no one. In the roll of photos that I took, there is not a single person. Its not because I avoided taking pictures of people, it's because there were no people. What there was was this beautiful city, abandoned just for me to spend the morning washed in dazzling light as I hiked up and down its streets. It may not sound so spectacular, but I almost cry thinking of my morning. Just me all alone with the city. If you've seen the pictures, you only get the vaguest hint of what I saw, and not even a shred of an idea of what I felt.
I couldn't tell you the names of any of the streets, how I got there or how I got back to thee train station. I remember the trees glittering like crystal with raindrops still falling from them, perfect reflections of old buildings in puddles on brick sidewalks, and feeling like I belonged in this unfamiliar place
I didn't spend the whole 6 hours wandering around...eventually the city did start to come alive and there were people. And traffic. I made my way back to the train station where I sat at a table in the little coffee shop and read a magazine, drank juice and wrote some post cards that I never sent before I picked up my bags, settled on one of the benches and dozed on and off for a few hours, being awoken every half hour or so by a station attendant who said he only wanted to make sure I didn't miss my train, thanking him each time and informing him that I didn't have to catch a particular train...only had to be in Boston sometime later that day.
This few hours all to myself with the illusion of an abandoned city on a beautiful morning...I would give up being a night person in a second if all mornings were like that...one of those experiences I couldn't live again in a million years no matter how I tried...a slice of my existence that I'd give anyhitng to have been able to share with someone...yet, I'd turn down the opportunity if it came along because it would have ruined it. In those hours, I felt completely surrounded by somethign not of this world...something divine. Maybe it was just too much light reflecting off of too many rain-soaked sidewalks affecting my brain. Or maybe it was what I needed to see my way out of what I thought was a hopless situation...I had been back from Texas a little over a year then and it was only about this time that I forced myself to stop being depressed about being dragged back to the East Coast. This is the morning that made me decide to move to Rhode Island...I haven't been back there since and I'm scared that if I go back I'll hate it after the memory of what was before, but I know if I never do I'll regret ot forever, and even if it's not the same never time, it might even be better...
