New York City trip report from 17-21 April 2025.
The city—the city—The City—has lost its luster, the sheen that kept me grossly enamored for the cumulative 100+ hours I had spent inside its concrete labyrinth that echoed a cacophony of voices and car horns and emanated a miasma of subway and urine and trash between the door-open shops letting their freshly-made food waft into the open street. The city beckoned to me from afar, a beautiful memory of years past and relationships thriving; a time of easiness and novelty and excitement; a longing for more and better in my personal and professional life. And yet, none of that was there, at least not in the same intensity that previously drew me in. The city was still its same vibrant self in all the ways I remembered and wrote about, but the elevated experience wrongly became the expectation as most things do. Novelty, and in some cases infatuation, can only last for so long before it subsides into a deeper enjoyment, one that isn't so jumpy, but rather mellow and steady.
Or was it a change in taste? The past year has left me acrimonious about status games in the culinary and performance arts (both of which I used to play), and NYC is highly-ranked in these games. While our group (led by my preferences) shyed away from playing, we were still surrounded by opportunities to play and bombarded in the form of restaurant suggestions. I suspect people who move there have their tastes formed by the city, its people, and what's socially cool and uncool. Eating at Carbone is cool because it's high-profile, despite the food not being the best in the city. Eating at Mei Lai Wah bakery is cool because it's authentic Chinese cuisine. Eating at Starbucks is uncool because it's cheap, low-profile, abundant, the food isn't that great (to many), and it's Starbucks. Fancy, expensive, and authentic will remain in vogue for many years to come; grungy, cheap, and mass-produced will remain low status for equally as long. This leads to people who aren't that into food or arts and the experiences both have to offer to be forced to pay up to maintain their social status. What a fucked system.
The people remain the focal point of the city. Anybody who talks about the things to do in the city before they talk about the people is either mistaken or wrong: the people make the things to do. From the subway zombies vomiting in others' bags to nice Dominicans running bakeries to the 100s of IB VPs to the elderly Chinese men chatting away on a sunny Sunday morning to the many book clubs in the park, these are the ones who (mostly) bring the craziness, for better or worse.
So many people I've met who live in NYC talk about the FOMO they experience. I can imagine it's even worse for tourists who feel like they should be sightmaxxing all day, every day because how many times does one get to visit NYC? The same notion may even be extended to residents: "how long will I live here?" they ask themselves as they begrudgingly dress up for yet another night of drinks, music, and late-night, cheap, greasy pizza.
The MTA should create a micromort heatmap of the subway system to better inform subway riders of the risks of riding in that area. Subway horror stories occasionally make their way into the mainstream news—fires, chokeholds, pushes, fights—and cause a non-zero amount of angst when riding. Sure, it may not increase rideship, but wouldn't it be cool to say you survived NYC's most objectively-dangerous subway stop?
NYC remains the king of niche businesses. Atlas Obscura does it some justice, but not enough to capture everything. There was an EDM vinyl shop with hundreds, if not thousands, of unique records; a rubber stamp shop with eclectic designs; a macaroni and cheese-only restaurant. They're bound to find some customers in a city of 8 million.
Both Central Park and Prospect Park were bustling with all types of festivities: families throwing the baseball or kicking the soccer ball or tossing the frisbee or just out for a nice afternoon walk; book clubs with all sorts of demographics; a painting meetup; couples basking in the sun; picnics galore with all types of food and drink; cyclists and runners at all kinds of speeds; vendors selling homemade desserts; friend groups playing cards or board games. Each of them felt full of life in an Alexander-esque manner.
Some specific sites of interest to the eyes, ears, and taste buds: