I’ve been in Manhattan for just about three weeks. My feet are sufficiently blistered from hundreds of blocks walked. My city maps (I’ve got two, just in case) have saved my life on multiple street corners. Any good explorer gets lost along the way, only to stumble upon something they never imagined.
One day, I ventured over to Times Square. Pulling out my camera, I blushed with embarrassment. People must think I’m a tourist! Hey Lou, you’re still a tourist. Three weeks does not a New Yorker make.
The streets were bursting with energy. Times Square is claustrophobic, but it’s quintessential New York City. This is where dreams are caught tightly with two hands and held tight.
Random fact: I’m fascinated and enamoured with police and firemen in the city.