Nana’s Whimsies is introducing a new occasional feature focused on traveling. Because I don’t travel much (at the end of the day, I’m a stay-at-home), many of the posts in this section will be from my sister Bec who loves to travel. While it will be called Reluctant Traveler, she definitely ISN’T (reluctant that is).

By Rebecca Borman

I’m a city girl at heart.  I grew up in a small farming town, and although I appreciate that lifestyle, it wasn’t (as my sister Jen would say) my cup of tea.  From the time I was pretty small, I thought I would like to live in a big city.  That dream never exactly came true, but I did live in a close suburb of Washington, DC, for over a quarter of a century.  And, I certainly got to visit some great cities:  Rome, Venice, Florence, Paris, Amsterdam, Munich, London, Tokyo, Chicago, New Orleans, and…New York.

In my humble opinion, New York is one of the great cities of the world.  There’s a fabulous energy there, and so many beautiful things to see and do.  But, to be honest, what I enjoy most about New York is its inhabitants.  Having visited all the cities named above, I believe the nicest and most interesting people in the world live in the Big Apple.  On a recent visit there, that opinion was verified for me once again.

There was the very nice and funny cab driver who crawled in heavy traffic from Terminal D, where I arrived, to Terminal A to pick up my sister Jen, who then discovered that she was actually in Terminal B.  When we finally found her, he teased her about getting her terminals straight, but he never was impatient with either of us two obvious out-of-towners.

 The next morning, we headed down to the subway, intending to buy passes.  We knew it would take us a few minutes to figure out the system, so we were glad the station wasn’t terribly crowded.  We needed to know how much each ride costs, so I asked a young woman in the line next to us.  She slipped off her headphones (oops, I didn’t notice she was wearing those), and politely answered the question.  She also volunteered that we’d have to pay for the Metro card.   “Rats,” I said to Jen, “I have one of those cards but didn’t bring it.”  Overhearing my comment, the young woman proceeded to dig around in her purse for an extra card she had and carefully took me through the entire process of filling it.  Then, this busy working woman hustled off to catch the next train.

Later the same morning, Jen and I were standing in Chinatown, trying to figure out which was the best way to walk over to Little Italy.  A woman we hadn’t even noticed approached us to see if we needed help, and then gave us excellent directions to Mulberry, which, she reminded us, is the main street in Little Italy. So, in the course of a few hours, two strangers took the time to volunteer information and help.  Not an eye-roll to be seen.

Every day, we experienced similar situations.  Even when we did that tourist thing, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to discuss our next stop or look at an interesting building, people just stepped around us.

Maybe our funniest experience was later in the week, when, near Union Square, we passed by a great-looking bakery.  (Remember, we are a baker’s daughters, and we find bakeries fascinating.)  The window displayed some delicious-looking wares, including chocolate babka.  I said, “Let’s go in and take a closer look.”  We stood inside discussing the fact that we had never seen babkas before, chocolate or otherwise.  A young man who worked there overheard us and expressed shock and dismay that we’d never tasted babka.  “You have to taste chocolate babka!  Feel this…it’s still warm!  Come over here; I’m going to cut you each a piece to taste.”  It was, of course, delicious.  We decided we wanted a picture of ourselves in this cool bakery.  Would Jonathan take one for us?  No, he would not, because he wanted to be in it.  So he called over a colleague, struck a pose, and we had our picture.  He actually followed us out of the store, still filled with enthusiasm for us and for the bakery that employs him.

 I could relate a dozen more such stories, but you get the point.  While New York is huge, New Yorkers live in neighborhoods, and if you pay attention, you can notice an almost small-town feel.  They make the most of every patch of space they can turn into beauty.  The smallest patio can support pots of flowers, and rooftops often look like gardens.  Their parks are pretty and filled with people:  moms with children, office workers on break, senior citizens enjoying the sun.  And, when New Yorkers aren’t late for the subway that will take them to Wall Street to make trades or to Eataly to make pasta, they are warm, friendly, and helpful. 

Which is one of the many reasons….I love New York.