Out of NY
POSTED 07.09.2009 @ 13:01
I love living in New York. I do. But sometimes, particularly in stinky, sweaty, summertime sometimes, I need to get the hell out. Living on top of other people, and below other people, and either side of other people can get exhausting.
Right now, anyone who’s anyone in New York is actually in Europe. Or the Hamptons. Anywhere else but here. Browsing Facebook and seeing everyone’s summer vacation snaps is like flipping through a travel agent’s brochure. I didn’t get a proper summer holiday—not the kind we’re used to in Australia, where you take a few weeks off to hit the beach with your friends or family—but I did get down to Miami for a few days recently. With no agenda beyond the hotel pool. It was bliss. It was actually just as stinky and sweaty as New York—but without the grit, and with added sand and clear-blue ocean.
That feeling of space and air around you is as refreshing as spending a week at a high-end spa. And it happens almost instantaneously, as soon as you step off the plane or climb out of the car in a new place that isn’t New York. You could be battling crowds on the subway in the morning but lazing by the pool with a Mojito in hand by 3 p.m. It’s one of the many things I love about New York: how easy it is to get out.
Luckily, there are lots of places within swinging distance of New York. You can fly almost anywhere from here, but you can also hop on a bus to Baltimore to catch a baseball game and eat crab; you can catch a commuter train to a quiet Long Island village or up along the Hudson River; or you can jump on a ferry to a beach and national park in New Jersey.
I took one of those boat rides to the beach a few weeks ago. Unlike lots of American beaches, Sandy Hook in New Jersey is not built up—it has stretches and stretches of sand with just a lighthouse and a café up the top. It’s a family beach much like the ones I grew up on, and while it’s not quite Byron Bay, the water is clean and the waves decent. A fine place to lounge with friends, take a dip, have some lunch, and then return to the city rejuvenated and with your shoulders back down where they belong.
Breathing in that salty air, I didn’t want to leave. But a funny thing happened on my way back from Sandy Hook: sitting on the roof of the ferry, enjoying a beer and the breeze, I saw the Manhattan skyline looming before me as we sailed into New York Harbor and past the Statue of Liberty. The city looked breathtaking. So tall and proud, sleek and strong—with all that excitement teeming below. It pulsed with life and energy, and I was glad that I was a part of it. Earlier that day I’d been cranky with city fatigue, but after just a few hours away, I was fixed. Thrilled by everything waiting for me back in New York. Happy to be home.