The moment you step into New York, you feel it—this city breathes, it lives, and it
pulls you in. Here, time flows differently. People don’t just live; they rush, they
dream, they hustle. New York isn’t just a place to see—it’s an energy to feel. And I
felt that energy from my very first step.
As soon as I arrived, I played the first song that always comes to mind when I think
of New York:
"Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z.
Full volume in my headphones, matching the pulse of the city.
At dawn, while the streetlights still flickered, I walked toward Times Square. The
streets were nearly empty, but the lights never slept. Billboards, screens, colors… it
felt like even the sky was lit with LEDs. In New York, day and night aren’t measured
by clocks but by rhythm.
From there, I strolled along the edge of Broadway, making my way down to SoHo.
Even the fire escapes on the buildings looked like they belonged in a movie set.
Hidden bookshops, gallery windows glowing with soft light… and then, my morning
ritual: coffee from La Colombe Coffee Roasters.
The moment you step inside, the smell of freshly ground beans mixed with a hint of
vanilla wraps around you. One corner held a writer lost in their screen, another a
quiet musician scribbling notes. Pure New York.
When it comes to flavor, Pommes Frites is a must—specializing in Belgian-style
fries.
And don’t leave SoHo without trying the legendary mini cupcakes from Baked by
Melissa.
With my coffee in hand, I kept walking—and finally reached Central Park.
A green world in the heart of the concrete jungle.
Inside, birdsong drowns out the honking horns.
There’s a damp scent from the morning dew on the grass, and the further in you go,
the quieter the city becomes. Your breath changes.
Joggers, people doing yoga, locals walking their dogs…
Even the ducks gliding across the little pond felt like part of a perfectly crafted scene.
When I reached Bethesda Terrace, I stopped and looked down the grand staircase.
The sound of violin echoed from the stone walls, played by a street musician. The
moment felt like a film still.
And then, softly in the background, another voice murmured:

“New York, New York…”
Walking through the park to Sinatra’s voice—it was dreamlike in every sense.
At midday, I made my way to Chelsea Market, in the very heart of Manhattan.
A treasure trove of global cuisine.
I grabbed a mini taco from Los Tacos No.1, followed by a tahini soft-serve from
Seed + Mill.
Every bite was a celebration of the city’s multicultural soul.
Above the market runs the High Line—an elevated green walkway created from an
old rail line.
As I strolled along it, I saw both New York’s past and future woven together, rising
on either side.
By afternoon, I crossed into Brooklyn.
From the DUMBO area, I watched the Manhattan Bridge stretch across the water.
Behind me: art galleries.
Before me: a skyline draped in golden light.
As the sun slipped down the glass towers, the city’s noise softened into a kind of
music.
And then, a sunset walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.
The breeze carried a scent of salt and stone.
With every step on the wooden planks, I could feel the city’s heartbeat.
To one side, the Statue of Liberty stood in silent salute.
To the other, the Empire State Building, bold against the sky.
I ended the night in Greenwich Village, at a small but legendary café: Caffe
Reggio—one of the first places in America to serve espresso.
Dim lighting, vintage paintings on the walls, and jazz floating in from the street…
time seemed to stand still.
Sitting there, I wasn’t just listening to the city—I was listening to myself again.
New York isn’t just a city—it’s a feeling, a rush, a dream.
Walking between the skyscrapers doesn’t make you feel small.
On the contrary, it makes you realize you’re part of something immense.
Every street, every park, every café tells a story.
And when you walk through New York, you become the main character in that story.