An introduction to New York City through Airbnb

My first trip to New York City, and I chose to stay in a $60/night room in Brooklyn through Airbnb. Google Maps and Street View showed me a desolate world of graffiti-lined warehouses and a trucking company. I couldn’t imagine being safe walking those streets at night from the subway to the apartment. What had I gotten myself into? The owner insisted that it was safe, so I took my chances.

Tiny room I rented on Airbnb in Brooklyn
Tiny room I rented on Airbnb in Brooklyn

The room turned out to be one of several off a common area and kitchen, all sharing a small bathroom. The only other inhabitant was some guy in the next room who came in after 11 p.m. and coughed all night. One night I heard him jostle the door handle on my room, trying to see if I were still there. I tell myself he just wanted to know if the apartment was empty, not that he wanted to do me any harm. He could have easily broken down the flimsy door.

Those graffiti-lined warehouses had been converted into stores I’d find at home — a health food store like a mini Whole Foods, a coffee shop, wine store, restaurants, etc. And the famous Roberta’s pizza was just around the block. This being Williamsburg (though near Bushwick), the streets were filled with young “hipsters” in their skinny jeans and tattoos. I felt perfectly safe walking alone three blocks from the subway to the apartment at midnight. (Yes, I went alone very happily! I’ll write more about solo travel in another blog.)

Graffiti-lined warehouses turned into "hip" little stores.
Graffiti-lined warehouses turned into “hip” little stores.

Every morning, I’d walk a few blocks to the L at Morgan and Bogart and ride 20 minutes to Manhattan. I spent all day walking, taking pictures, and discovering places that would become my favorites. Washington Square Park and Greenwich Village. Strand books. Ben’s pizza. The dimly lit Bemelman’s bar at the Carlyle Hotel — magical moments with an incredible dirty martini and a live pianist playing Gershwin. Stumptown Coffee. The Whitney, Met, and MOMA. The Gargosian art gallery. Central Park. By the time I got back to the apartment late every night, I was spent. Garbage trucks at 1 a.m. every morning didn’t keep me awake.

Would I stay in this $60/night apartment with a shared bathroom and invisible roommate again? No, but it sure made for a memorable introduction to New York City.

Ralph Lauren window display
Ralph Lauren window display
My first afternoon in Central Park, I happened across this protest, a great opportunity to take pix.
My first afternoon in Central Park, I happened across this protest, a great opportunity to take pix.

Random acts of kindness

First, I want to admit to you that I’m in a long-distance love affair.

With New York City.

It’s a magical place for me — full of energy and possibilities and history and renowned architecture. Just walking around Manhattan makes me happy. I’m really into photography and constantly visualize photographs whether or not my camera is handy. NYC is full of great photographic moments. Here’s one such moment I captured in Washington Square Park, one of my favorite places:

Handsome man in Greenwich Village
Handsome man in Greenwich Village

On my second trip to NYC, my friend Leah and I were walking in Chelsea. It was about 6 p.m. Two scantily clad young women and a guy were arguing. In particular, the blond with twig-like arms and low-slung skinny jeans stumbled toward us, drunk, crying and yelling at her friends. She appeared to be incredibly distraught.

“I just want to die,” she screamed.

With the bitterness of a scorned woman, I said “I bet this drama is over a man. Let’s go talk to her.” We’ve all been there, right, ladies?

Leah’s motherly instinct took over. We ended up talking to the anorexic woman (let’s call her Marie) from Denmark, sitting on the sidewalk, for about an hour as the sun set. Leah stroked Marie’s hair and arm and listened to her plight. She explained why suicide wasn’t the answer, that the guy wasn’t worth Marie’s time. Marie had been hospitalized for anorexia for six months. We knew she was in bad shape.

Marie planned to move into a house in Brooklyn, where she lived for free with other young women. The only requirement was to hang out at the owner’s bar a few times a week. I asked “Do you have to have sex with the customers?” She said “no”, however, I knew. Later I learned that my hunch was probably right on. Sex trafficking is a big problem in NYC.

I was most impressed with Leah’s compassion towards this stranger. While I would have stopped to talk and listen to the woman, I probably wouldn’t have touched her. I have to know a person fairly well to go that far. Haaa.

We ended up persuading this young bony model to eat dinner at a nearby diner. Marie first ordered a wedge of iceberg lettuce topped with plain tuna fish. “I don’t care if I get fat!” she repeated in her Danish accent. “It doesn’t matter” as she ordered a piece of chocolate cake. To “get fat”, this woman would have to eat a cake a day for two months. Leah and I tried not to laugh.

Marie’s friend from Brooklyn picked her up from the diner, and Leah and I caught a cab back to the hotel.

We spent three hours trying to help Marie, and yet I knew her future looked bleak. A few weeks later, Marie texted Leah a photo of her with the sleazy boyfriend. Some lessons are hard to learn.

Playing with a new lens

Playing with a new lens in my backyard.
Cheery yellow flowers

The 50mm f1/8 is a popular lens for street photography. For years, I primarily photographed landscapes and my humorous basset hound Star. Star died, and taking pictures of flowers got old. One day I decided to start taking more pictures of people. Many factors contribute to an expressive candid photo. I have to be in bubbly/chatty mode to start talking to strangers on the street. The subject must be receptive to conversing with a stranger and have a few minutes to spare.

Here’s a photo from the Mission district in San Francisco. The gap-toothed smile of the Arabic woman struck me, with those rosy cheeks. The little girl in her rhinestone-studded shirt and fuzzy tendrils. Mom spoke little English but did understand when I held up my camera. Smiles are universal. Mother and child

Paul Flack, an artist at Raleigh’s Artsplosure, had no problem being himself.Paul Flack

Here’s a photo I took near the corner of Cyril Magnin and Ellis in San Francisco one morning as everyone rushed to work. My intent was to catch the handsome Lenny Kravitz lookalike in front. Somehow, the yawning little guy sneaked in, probably not an intentional photobomb. The yawning interloper