n London, our cabbie cheerfully let us pile into his car and knew exactly where to take us without instructions. He was chatty and interested in our background. Unprompted, he gave us recommendations for restaurants that serve turkey because he knew the next day was Thanksgiving in America. I assumed this was one of the exceptional cab drivers you can occasionally come across in all cities and didn’t think of it again.
There’s a depressing sort of magic to Penn Station.
Traveling alone and on a budget is something I started doing when I was nineteen, the summer after my freshman year of college.
When the train finally arrives, you will most likely be cramped and standing in a pretty bad position.
Do Not: Try to start a sing-along, apparently. Sheesh.
In the last three years, I have lived in San Francisco and Sydney and relied completely on the public transit systems of each city— specifically the buses.
The Situationists’ idea of strolling involved drinking and the ever-romanticized city of Paris, but one can go-a-flâneuring anywhere and in any state of awareness (or non-awareness, as the case may be.)
One of the main reasons I moved from LA to New York was because I didn’t need a car to live here. With one of the best trains systems in the world and neighborhoods so compact you can walk everywhere I’m taking advantage of that freedom.
I have no car and I must scream.
In 2005, a tied up garbage bag was found on the subway tracks, about 250 feet away from the A and C train Nostrand Avenue stop. Two panicked transit workers screamed for help.