New York, New York
by Cristina Abad Navarro
It had been raining all morning and the windows were
too steamy to see anything outside. As the bus was approaching my most
dreamed-of destination, I had butterflies in my stomach. Ever since I was a
teenager New York City had been my favourite place on the planet. I was sure
that if I had the opportunity of going there, I would instantly fall madly in
love with it.
It was through Frank Sinatra’s songs that I learnt to
love the city that never sleeps. I could easily imagine myself walking along 5th
Avenue, having a Sunday lunch in Central Park, watching the Phantom of the
Opera in Broadway, blinded by the neon lights of Times Square, feeling I’m king
of the hill, top of the heap.
The summer of 2000 finally made my dream come true. I had
to go to Philadelphia for a conference and I decided that I would take a bus to
NYC and spend a whole day there. The moment the bus came out of the tunnel
under the Hudson River, I managed to wipe the steam off the window with the
sleeve of my t-shirt and look out. I was astonished. The view of the skyline in
front of me was breathtaking. Whether I looked to the right or to the left,
there was nothing but skyscrapers. And in the middle of it was one of New
York’s most famous icons, the Empire State Building. It was much better than I
had ever imagined.
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