On day two we didn’t waste any time. We quickly discovered that I don’t take as long to do my hair as Alisha does, so while she got ready, I grabbed us coffee. We took the subway to the Financial District to the 9/11 Memorial Museum.
We got there as it was opening. To be honest, it felt like hallowed ground.
There’s an area of the museum with touch screens set up. You can select where you’re from on a map and hand-write a note of encouragement to the survivors or of thanks and respect to those who died. It was very powerful and I’m honored to have had this experience. There was a father there with his young kid, and overhearing him explain the events of that day to a little one who didn’t live through it was something else. It made me realize how important it is for us to remember and not let time numb us.
We were at the museum for two and a half hours before we even looked at the clock. We had to run to our ferry to make it on time– we cut it so close! We had our tickets on our phones and the guys closing the ramp waved us through. We were here, watching the Statue of Liberty get further and further away when we realized we were on the wrong ferry. D’oh!
We got off at the next stop and had to walk back to the ferry dock. Everybody at the Water Taxi got a good laugh out of our mistake and said things like, “How did they even let you on?” Anyway, we made it back and the folks at Statue Cruises were nice enough to let us get on the later ferry.
There she is!
We had a blast! The island is super small and HOT. It was so, so humid that day. What you don’t see in the pictures is the mobs of people everywhere, clammoring to get the same great shot right under the statue. It was kind of tricky walking around because no matter where you walked, you were getting in front of somebody’s shot.
Another ferry takes you to Ellis Island, and this was especially important to Alisha. She loves the history of Ellis Island and soaked it all up.
“The manner in which the people of different nationalities greet each other after a separation of years is one of the interesting studies of the Island. The Italian kisses his little children but scarcely speaks to his wife, never embraces or kisses her in public. The Hungarian and Slavish people put their arms around one another and weep. The Jew of all countries kisses his wife and children as though he had all the kisses in the world, and intended to use them all up quick.”
Tiles, because I love tiles.
Remember how I said it was really, super hot? While we were waiting in a giant line to get on the ferry to go back to Manhattan, a giant thunderstorm hit. We were totally drenched and had to wait for a second ferry to come get us because the first one filled up to fast. Here we are with our good attitudes:
After our excursion, we went back to our little room. We hung up our soaking clothes and propped up our soggy shoes and rested a little bit. That night, we went to a local Italian restaurant called Coppola’s West that looked like a dive from the outside– the entrance was below the street and it didn’t look like anything special. On the inside, it was super homey, intimate and nice. The food was excellent.
After dinner we walked up and down Amsterdam Ave right by our hotel– there are tons of cute, trendy restaurants and bars on this street. We ended up going to three of them and had a blast.
We chatted up the locals, of course. Someone was teaching self-defense tactics and there was some swing dancing involved.
We ended the night with some pretty portaits in front of a flower shop. Not too shabby.