The Neighborhood

Hey girl what's it like to be in New York?
New York City, imagine that!
Tell me, what's it like to be a skateboard punk rocker?

Leroy says, "Send a picture"
Leroy says, "Hello!"
Leroy says, "Aw, keep on rocking girl"
Yeah, keep on rocking
Michelle Shocked "Anchored Down in Anchorage"

Let me take you for a very short tour of my neighborhood in Manhattan.
It's late Saturday afternoon, and I've decided to step outside my front door (you can see it on the left).
First stop is the nail shop.

On Saturday afternoons I like to indulge in the New York women's pastime of "having my nails done".
There's rarely a block in Manhattan that doesn't house at least one nail salon. They are invariably run by gentle Korean women and provide an oasis of calm and comfort.

The nail salons have names like 'Eve Nail', 'Mary Nail' and 'Jane Nail'. I go to Eve Nail as it is in my building. You can see it on the right.
Across the road is "Blooming Nail". It always makes me smile as the name reminds me of the Outback Restaurant's "Blooming Onion".

I turn left, and still in the same block as my apartment, head toward the coffee shop. (it's just under the London-looking subway sign in the photo on the left).

But I have photos to take. So no coffee. Instead I make a 180 degree turn and cross the road.

We are walking south and are now about twenty metres from my apartment.

A few blocks north is Spanish Harlem. I'll take you there another day. But today it's my immediate neighbourhood, as I'm a bit tired. So let's continue walking south.
There's also a fruit stall which is a few metres from the closest supermarket.

On the left is a street stall - selling socks and other items of clothing.
New Yorkers expect everyone to walk at the same pace. This avoids people-jams. I pause to take the photo and am jostled. The photo is blurred. But it'll have to do. I walk on.

And here is the supermarket.



No parking lot though. We either carry the groceries home, or get them delivered. It's only half a block.

We could pop across the road to one of the local bars. Or to Hooligans, another local bar which you can see here between the Bagel shop and the locksmith. Perhaps another time.

But I've walked too far on my lazy Saturday afternoon and I turn back before reaching the end of the block. Now I can see the sock stall from the other side.

The sun has come out from behind a cloud and the socks look brighter now.

If I were a healthy type, I could go to the local fitness club that is directly opposite the apartment building.


So we are nearly back to where we started.



The doorman has come out to enjoy the sun. I say hello and he swings me through the revolving doors.

My neighbourhood; my little piece of New York. How could anyone not love this town?