Travel Guide: City Island

City Island, the Seaport of the Bronx, is what you would get if you crossed a New England seaside village with the Bronx. There are city busses, a post office, a branch of the New York Public Library and city trash cans on the sidewalks. But there are also rambling Shingle-style mansions, boat and fishing supply stores and more seafood restaurants per mile than probably anywhere else within New York City limits. The population is under 5,000 and it's a strange place to visit in the summer when everything is (mostly) open—in the off-season it feels downright post-apocalyptic.  

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GETTING THERE:

City Island is fully accessible by public transit—depending on where you're coming from, it might take a while but trust me it's worth it! Take the 6 train all the way to the end of the line, to the Pelham Bay Park stop in the Bronx. Catch the Bx29 bus right outside of the train station, and that will take you to City Island in just a few minutes. You can get off at the northern end, just over the bridge (a newer, less charming bridge opened in 2017), or ride the bus all the way to the southern end and walk back. The island is only 1.5 miles long and half a mile wide, but you can take the Bx29 while you're on the island too (or use a car service). 

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WHAT TO DO:

Nautical Museum

The City Island Nautical Museum is open every Saturday and Sunday from 1-5pm and admission is only $5. Stop here first and learn about the island's rich nautical history from boat races to sail making. When I first visited back in 2014, three out of the four people working there were named Barbara.

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Pelham Cemetery

Pelham Cemetery is on the eastern shore of the island and it was established in the 1880s. There are older gravestones within its grounds, including well-known Pelham families, early settlers, and veterans of every war since the Civil War. There are a few entrances to the cemetery—including the main one with its beautiful archway—that are always locked, but keep looking until you find the one that is open (I didn't know this the first time I visited, but I figured it out on my second City Island trip). 

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239 Play

A recently new addition to City Island, the people that bring tiny treasures to the Brooklyn Flea under the name dAN's Parents House opened a brick-and-mortar store in a crumbling, 150-year-old house on City Island Avenue (seen above before the restoration). I could have spent hours combing through their rooms filled with nostalgia, especially the drawers filled with vintage McDonald's toys and other intriguing little things.

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Early Ruth Antiques

Unfortunately this antique shop was closed on our most recent visit—a sign was posted that they had just stepped out for coffee but there was no indication that they planned on returning anytime soon. I've only been lucky enough to catch this store open once in the several times I've visited City Island, but what I saw made an impression—especially the 6-foot-tall, sombrero-wearing hot dog statue (which is still there if anyone wants to get me an early birthday present). 

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Royal Tenenbaums' Summer House

I'm not a rabid Wes Anderson fan, but I never pass up the opportunity to visit a famous New York filming location. This 1896 Shingle-style, sea captain's dream house is located on 21 Tier Street, and doubled as the Tenenbaums' summer home on Eagle's Island. 

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Bartow-Pell Mansion

While not technically located on City Island, the Bartow-Pell Mansion is a good place to start your day in the Bronx before you head to the nearby island. Finished in 1842, the Bartow-Pell Mansion is a Greek Revival house is now part of Pelham Bay Park. The house opened as a museum in 1946 and guided or self-guided tours are offered Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday from 12 noon until 4pm for $8. There's even a small family cemetery located on the property, although it was damaged in March when a tree fell on it during a storm. 

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WHAT TO EAT:

City Island Diner

I've never been to City Island early enough for breakfast, but I've kicked off several visits with meals at the City Island Diner. This classic diner, popular with locals, is also where Jerry Seinfeld took Ricky Gervais on an episode of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. 

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Johnny's Reef Restaurant

I don't eat seafood and a place where the ordering procedure is unclear is my personal hell, but I still can't help but love Johnny's Reef, located at the southern tip of City Island. They've been serving gut-busting baskets of fried everything (shrimp, onion rings, mozzarella sticks, clams, etc.) for 70 years—and I bet the seagulls have been swarming around their outdoor patio in quantities straight out of The Birds for just about as long. 

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Lickety Split

If it's oppressively hot, like it often is when I visit City Island, Lickety Split is a great place to cool down with a generous scoop of ice cream and/or an iced coffee. They also have a (very small) restroom, which is never something I take for granted on all-day adventures.

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Seafood Restaurants

While I can't vouch for any of these personally—and I'm also the worst person to ask about seafood restaurants—City Island's main industry now is undoubtedly food. There are several to choose from along City Island Avenue and there's stiff competition if you choose a restaurant like I do, by its signage. 

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See all of my individual posts on City Island here.

Hall of Fame

I had no idea that there was an “original” Hall of Fame, until I visited it with three friends back in November. The Hall of Fame for Great Americans was dedicated in May of 1901 at what was then the uptown campus of New York University in the Bronx. It was the brainchild of Dr. Henry Mitchell MacCracken, the Chancellor of the University at the time, and features a 630-foot open-air colonnade populated with bronze portrait busts of the honorees.

The Hall of Fame was designed by architect Stanford White, who also designed the nearby Gould Memorial library, the Hall of Languages and the Hall of Philosophy. It has spaces for 102 busts, and currently houses 98 originals by sculptors such as Daniel Chester French (sculptor of the Lincoln Memorial) and Frederick MacMonnies (sculptor of the reliefs on the Washington Square Arch).

In order to be nominated for the Hall of Fame, someone must have been a native born or naturalized citizen, must have been dead for 25 years and must have made “a major contribution to the economic, political or cultural life of the nation.” Honorees include ten Presidents and other “authors, educators, architects, inventors, military leaders, judges, theologians, philanthropists, humanitarians, scientists, statesmen, artists, musicians, actors, and explorers.”

The last honorees were inducted in 1976, but they don’t have busts or plaques because NYU was suffering financially, along with the rest of the city in the ‘70s. The campus was sold to the City University of New York in 1973 and is currently home to the Bronx Community College. 

The Hall of Fame is supposed to be open to the public for self-guided tours M-F 9am-5pm and Sat-Sun 10am-5pm. We went on a Saturday and ran into some resistance at the front gate, but after pleading our case we were eventually allowed to explore the grounds unattended. The Gould Memorial Library was unfortunately closed, and I would love to go back and explore the beautiful Beaux Arts landmark.

I had no idea when I was listening to the Wizard of Oz soundtrack on repeat as a kid that the line “You’ll be a bust, be a bust, be a bust in the Hall of Fame,” was referring to this particular Hall of Fame—the first of its kind anywhere in the country.

Like a lot of antiquated memorials, the Hall of Fame unfortunately comprises mostly white men—only a handful of busts belong to women or people of color. Thankfully in 2017, Governor Cuomo ordered the busts and plaques of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson to be permanently removed, although the fact that they were ever in a Hall of Fame of Great Americans is regrettable. 

Arthur Avenue

The Belmont section of the Bronx is often referred to as the Little Italy of the Bronx or the "real" Little Italy to differentiate it from the more famous Little Italy in lower Manhattan. Generations of Italian families have lived and worked in this neighborhood, and Arthur Avenue in particular has become a destination for anyone who loves fresh mozzarella, red sauce and cannoli (*raises hand*).

Three of us (missed you, Jen!) headed to Arthur Avenue on Saturday with the purpose of eating, and we did not want for choices. The neighborhood is small, but packed with five-star options—the hardest part of visiting is trying to decide where to go when every place looks and smells as delicious as the next.

We weren't on Arthur Avenue for five minutes before Francesca and Lindsey were eating oysters from a sidewalk table set up outside of Randazzo's. I have an almost pathological fear of eating seafood, but I'm trying to be more open about it—especially when it's free—so I couldn't resist when I was offered a clam (my first!). It was slimy and cold and tasted mostly of hot sauce (thankfully), but I don't think I'll be craving that gritty sand aftertaste anytime soon. The guys at Randazzo's were so welcoming and playful—encouraging Francesca to touch the world's slimiest eel and gamely posing for photos—and it set the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

After Randazzo's we did a lap around the Retail Market. The market is small but full of vendors, sandwich shops, butchers and produce stands. I'm always a bit overwhelmed by bustling markets and all of the options and people squeezed into such tight quarters, but they're as much of a visual feast as well as a place to buy items for a literal feast. There are hanging meats, cans of tomato sauces, barrels of olives and boxes of exotic vegetables—you can even watch people hand-rolling cigars out of huge, crispy tobacco leaves.

We left the market without sampling anything, so we were hungry for a proper lunch. Dominick's was one of the restaurants on my radar and it's right across from the market. Dominick's serves classic Italian food, and while our meal wasn't life-changing, the dining experience was a unique one. Dishes are served family style, seating is communal and very cozy, and there is a single menu tacked on the wall—go take a look before you sit down, try not to forget what you want before your server arrives and then be guilted into ordering way more food than you intended.

We ordered the antipasto for one (it was more than enough for the three of us), linguine with marinara, ziti with vodka sauce and three meatballs. We most definitely did not need the ziti or the third meatball, but it's hard not to be swayed by the delicious things on nearby tables and the chaotic ordering style. We left full, happy and a bit overwhelmed—and with enough leftovers for at least two more meals.

SonsAfter we rolled out of Dominick's, we headed toward dessert. I had read that Gino's Pastry Shop fills their cannoli right in front of you, so that was an obvious choice. They don't have a charming vintage sign like Addeo & Sons or Egidio's, but when we walked into the small shop a man straight out of The Sopranos was holding court. He was wearing a track suit and oversized tinted glasses and bragging about his connection to Frankie Valli—I couldn't have designed a better welcome into an Italian pastry shop if I tried.

We ordered cannoli and espresso and watched with anticipation as the chocolate-covered shells were indeed filled on-demand. Cannoli might be my all-time favorite dessert and I can say without hesitation that this was the best one I've ever had. It was so good, in fact, that I got two to go, and they were both gone within 24 hours.

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Above photo of the cannoli filling by Francesca (it's super fun having someone else taking photos on our adventures now that she adopted my old camera!), all other photos by me.

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Randazzo's
2327 Arthur Ave,
Bronx NY 10458

Arthur Avenue Retail Market
2344 Arthur Ave,
Bronx, NY 10458

Dominick's
2335 Arthur Ave,
Bronx, NY 10458

Gino's Pastry Shop
580 E 187th St,
Bronx, NY 10458

Wave Hill

After filling up on meats at Liebman's Deli in the Bronx, Jess and I walked about 25 minutes west to Wave Hill. Wave Hill is a public garden and cultural center overlooking the Hudson River. Wave Hill house was built in 1843 as a country home and over the years Teddy Roosevelt and Mark Twain both spent time at the estate. In 1903, it was purchased by a partner at J.P. Morgan and he added greenhouses and shaped the surrounding grounds. In 1960, Wave Hill was deeded to the city and today it's one of 33 city-owned cultural institutions.  

I didn't know much about Wave Hill, but I thought it was harder to get to than it actually is—in fact, we were right by it back in January when we explored Fieldston and Riverdale. It's accessible by Metro North but it's only a 30-minute walk from the 1 train and they have a free shuttle that picks you up/drops you off by the 242nd Street stop. The Bronx sometimes gets a bad rap, but I've always loved the time I've spent there. Now that I live in Harlem again, it's just a few subway stops away and there are still so many places on my list to explore.

There wasn't much to see at Wave Hill besides the gardens, but it was the perfect place to spend a leisurely, warm and sunny Saturday. It wasn't very crowded, but we did see several couples taking wedding information tours, and Wave Hill seems like the kind of place built exclusively for weddings. 

The greenhouses were packed full of succulents, cacti and the biggest air plants I've ever seen—every blogger's Instagram dream—and it would be a lovely place to escape to on a snowy winter day (Wave Hill is open year-round). I always feel so restored by city adventures like this—exploring someplace new that feels worlds away but it only takes a few subway stops before I'm home again. 

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Wave Hill
Tuesday-Sunday, 9am-5:30pm
West 249th Street and Independence Avenue
Bronx, New York

Liebman's Delicatessen

Last night marked the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, or the Jewish New Year. It's the start of year 5778, and it's the first of the Jewish High Holy days. I am not Jewish, but for the past three years I've worked at the 92nd Street Y, a Jewish cultural organization on the Upper East Side. We're not associated with the YMCA, but we have similar programs—a gym, nursery school, talks, concerts and adult education classes. Because we are a YMHA/YWHA (Young Men + Women's Hebrew Association), in addition to our standard vacation and government holidays, we also get 10+ Jewish holidays off work per year.

David and I are going camping with his kids upstate today (New York City schools are also closed today and tomorrow), but last weekend my friend Jess and I spent the day in Riverdale in the Bronx. Our main destination was Wave Hill, but we decided to meet at Liebman's Delicatessen. Liebman's has been family-owned since it opened in 1953, and was once one of hundreds of Kosher delis in the neighborhood. Now it's one of the last ones standing, and it's definitely worth the trek (it's about a 10-minute walk from the 1 train).

I had a very homogenous upbringing near Akron, Ohio and we barely ever made the hour trip to Cleveland. One of the things I love most about New York is the ability to experience so many different cultures, and the Jewish deli feels quintessentially New York. Liebman's felt more authentic and significantly less touristy than Katz's—in fact, there was only one other person eating alongside us at 11am on a Saturday morning. Jess ordered the pastrami and I ordered a salami omelette—which were both delicious—but I'll be dreaming about that pickle plate for many years to come. 

Happy New Year to those of you who celebrate and happy free days off to those of you who don't, but work at Jewish organizations!

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Liebman's Delicatessen
Open every day 9am-10pm
552 W 235th Street
Bronx, NY 10463

NYBG: Chihuly

My mom and I recently went to the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx to check out the Chihuly exhibit. Dale Chihuly is an American glass sculptor (with an eye patch!), and even if you don't realize it you've probably seen his work which appears in permanent collections around the world.

I first became aware of Chihuly when I was in college and saw an exhibition of his at the Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh. The NYBG show is similar to that one in that it intersperses Chihuly sculptures with the garden's own plant collections and natural surroundings. Chihuly pieces are so fluid and organic-looking that they fit perfectly into a garden setting. There were actually some pieces that fit in so seamlessly that it was hard at first to discern what was glass and what was plant—and vice versa. 

Chihuly pieces aren't exclusively based on flora—there were ones that looked like cranes and rock candy—and I was surprised at how many different styles are on display in the garden. He's probably best known for his twisting, curling, spikey concoctions as well as his undulating bowls, but there were more modern, simple pieces placed near water so that their reflections were as integral to the art as the actual glass panes.  

I was very impressed with his work back when I saw it at Phipps, but ever since I feel like I've very badly wanted to hate on Chihuly for being too commercial or write off his work as faux-opulent (he has a lot of work in Vegas and a store at the Bellagio), but I'm won over every time I see a piece in person. 

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The New York Botanical Garden
2900 Southern Boulevard
Bronx, NY 10458-5126
Tues-Sun 10am-6pm, Closed Mondays
"Chihuly" is on view until October 29, 2017

St. Raymond's Portraits

I've talked about ceramic cemetery portraiture before—at St. Michael's and Bideawee Pet Cemetery— and some of the best I've seen yet was at St. Raymond's cemetery in the Bronx. I went to St. Raymond's last October searching for the final resting place of Mary Mallon (aka Typhoid Mary), and because I had such a hard time finding her, I saw a lot along the way. 

For the most part, I'm able to explore cemeteries without thinking too deeply about the actual people buried beneath my feet. I don't mean this to sound callous, but cemeteries can be intensely sad and dark places—I'd never make it though one if I stopped to mourn every individual life. I also tend to avoid newer graves since older ones interest me more, aesthetically and historically, and time helps to further sever any connection I would feel to the deceased. Ceramic portraits, however, make it impossible for me to view with detachment. 

I noticed that St. Raymond's had a large number of ceramic portraits, and I wonder what it is about a cemetery that determines that—St. Raymond's is a Roman Catholic cemetery, while St. Michael's is open to all faiths. Most of these portraits date from the early 1900s—the height of their popularity—when photography was still expensive and labor intensive. A lot of the photos show people in their happiest moments, in the prime of their life or during a celebratory occasion. Wedding photos are pretty common, especially for women who are frequently referred to on their headstones by their relationship to the men in their lives (mother, sister, wife).

Something the graphic designer in me hadn't noticed until St. Raymond's, is the composite portrait. Before computers and photoshop, people still had a need to combine two or more photographs into one. Some of them are more convincing than others, but at the time it must have been a pretty neat trick. Maybe, in a prior life, I worked as a ceramic portraiture "photoshop" artist?

The most unnerving portraits are the ones of children. Everyone who has ever seen a horror movie (or met a real, live child) know that children are creepy. They seem to see and know things that we don't, and have senses that we lose as we grow and gain rational thought. Post-mortem photography was so popular, especially with children, in this era because sometimes that would be the only photograph a family had of a child. A lot of these photos show kids just being kids—in a soapbox car, holding a puppy, reading—but I did find at least one obviously taken post-mortem, and it's definitely one of the most memorable and objectively creepy things I've seen in my cemetery explorations thus far. 

Riverdale

After we explored the Fieldston neighborhood of the Bronx recently, we ventured over into neighboring Riverdale. We were already having a perfect city adventure day, when we spotted an old Buick parked along the side of the street. As we were admiring it, a man walked by us and doubled back to let us know that an "old checkered cab was parked just down the block." My default when a stranger starts to talk to me unprompted is immediate suspicion and annoyance, but that quickly turned to gratitude when we realized that he'd just given us a hot tip.

The checkered cab was just as wonderful as promised—what I wouldn't give to still have the New York streets filled with them—and the street kept offering vintage vehicles, one right after the other. We felt as if we had indeed stepped back in time, and even heard another passerby exclaim (somewhat hyperbolically) "this is the street of 87-year-old cars!"

We walked along the Hudson River and barely saw another person for what seemed like miles, which is something to be cherished when you're still within city limits. The Bronx gets a bad rap, but there is so much more to the borough than most people know, myself included. Every time I've ventured north I've been rewarded with nothing but wonderful experiences—at the NYBG or the zoo, on City Island, in a cemetery, park or historical home.

We ate at two diners—the Short Stop and Tibbett—and there is no more perfect way to start and end a day, if you ask me. We made our way back to the train through Marble Hill, which appears to be part of the Bronx but is actually still considered Manhattan, and therefore is the only Manhattan neighborhood on the mainland of North America. Sometimes I feel as if I've seen most of New York and then I have a day like this one, and realize that I could live here forever and still not see it all—a theory I'm all too happy to test.

Fieldston, Bronx

Sometimes I think I may have already exhausted all of my adventure possibilities in New York City, or at least that I'm aware of all of the interesting things this city has to offer. But then I come across an article or hear about a place like the Fieldston neighborhood and I realize that I could live here forever and still not discover everything.

Fieldston is a privately-owned neighborhood just east of Riverdale in the Bronx. The majority of the neighborhood is a historical district and it's filled with enormous, single-family homes, huge trees and winding streets. The houses were built beginning in 1910 by a list of approved architects who designed homes in a few "strongly encouraged" styles. Many of the houses are built in the Tudor revival style and the neighborhood was painfully charming on the day we went—brilliantly sunny with light snow from the day before still dusting the sidewalks and roofs.

Fieldston is near the end of the 1 line (I recommend stopping for breakfast first at the Short Stop Coffee Shop first) but it feels like another world. New York can feel so small and squeezed for space, but there are a seemingly endless number of places that I've found where you can go to breathe a little easier, enjoy the quiet and fall in love with New York all over again.

St. Raymond's Cemetery + Typhoid Mary Grave

Back in October I decided to venture to St. Raymond's Cemetery in the Bronx to seek out the final resting place of Mary Mallon, aka Typhoid Mary. I researched the location of her grave and set out to find her—only to find myself wandering around St. Raymond's completely lost. Find A Grave notes the location as "St. Raymond's Cemetery (New)," but Mallon is actually buried in a newer section of the old cemetery. Sound confusing? Yes, it was. I was actually so frustrated that I nearly gave up the search, but after lunch decided to explore the old part of the cemetery so the day wasn't a complete loss (and then discovered that I didn't have a memory card in my camera so I had to buy one at Walgreens—I didn't have the best adventure luck that day).

St. Raymond's is a Roman Catholic cemetery and is one of the busiest cemeteries in the US with approximately 4,000 new burials each year. The old section was opened in the 1870s and the new section was developed in the 1950s. The old St. Raymond's was full of wonderful things, including a lot of headless statues (like St. Michael's) and ceramic portraits (deserving of their own post). In 1932, Charles Lindbergh met with his son's alleged kidnapper at St. Raymond's to deliver $50,000 in ransom money.

Mary Mallon was born in Ireland, and immigrated to the US, where she notoriously worked as a cook for affluent families in New York City. When the families that she cooked for began contracting typhoid, she was quarantined twice on North Brother Island. She refused to adhere to proper hygiene practices (ew) and profusely denied that she was a carrier of the disease. She was, of course, and was in fact the first person identified in the US as an asymptomatic carrier of typhoid.

While exploring the old section, I realized that the section numbers started to match the naming convention of the directions I had for Mallon's grave—Division 15, Row 19, Grave 55—and although I had to cross a street into yet another section of the cemetery (St. Raymond's is huge), I finally found Typhoid Mary. I had been so frustrated and confused for most of the day that finding her felt like hitting the jackpot. I was also so mad at the lack of proper information that I took a screenshot of her grave's location on Google Maps—it's not exact coordinates, but if you're looking to pay your respects to Typhoid Mary, you at least have a head start.

Mary Mallon died of pneumonia at age 69 in 1938, after living out her later years in quarantine at Riverside Hospital. At the time of her death, live typhoid was found in her gallbladder, and she was cremated and interred at St. Raymond's, beneath a headstone she paid for herself. No one is buried on either side of her—in a very crowded cemetery—which may be a coincidence, but still seems fitting.

The High Bridge

Sunday was definitely a day to spend outside, so Jim and I planned to go to the High Bridge in northern Manhattan. The High Bridge is the oldest bridge in the city, and originally opened in 1848 as an aqueduct. It was closed for more than 40 years before it reopened as a pedestrian bridge in June of 2015.

I wouldn't really describe the High Bridge as a destination, but if you're history or bridge nerds like Jim and me, then it's definitely worth a visit. It's a pretty short span over the Harlem River, and there's not much to do on either side of the bridge, however High Bridge park on the Manhattan side is a beautiful walk. Even if this winter was pretty mild, it was just nice to be outside and feel genuinely warm for the first time in a while.

The original part of the bridge is a series of stone arches, the Harlem River span of which was replaced in 1928 with a steel arch to allow for the passage of large ships. It really does look like two halves of completely different bridges were just pasted together—even the brick of the walkway changes from one half to the other.

The High Bridge water tower lords over the High Bridge, next to a public pool in the spot that once held the city's reservoir. One of the High Bridge's architects was James Renwick, Jr., who also designed St. Patrick's Cathedral, the Roosevelt Island Lighthouse and the Smallpox Hospital (now my favorite ruin), and you can definitely see the similarities, especially with the lighthouse.

The bridge completionist in me is grateful to have added another bridge to my "walked" list, the history buff in me loves anything that can claim an "-est" distinction and the old lady in me is just grateful when anything old survives in this "replace all history with a luxury condo" city.

NYBG: Orchid Show 2016

This was my fourth year going to the Orchid Show at the New York Botanical Garden. It's safe to say that it's now a tradition, one I don't intend on breaking anytime in the near future. The orchid show always comes along right about the time I'm getting very tired of being cold and longing for the colors and warmth of spring.

The design and layout of the show doesn't seem to change much from year to year and I've begun to recognize most of the types of orchids. But orchids are so insane that it's still hard to believe that they're actually real. Nature is so strange and fantastical.

This year I became particularly obsessed with the slipper orchid. Named of course because it literally looks like a slipper ripe for slipping onto a tiny foot. With their striped and spotted wings they also look like little alien creatures that might come to life and fly away at any moment.

I took a Tuesday off of work to go with my uncle, who was in town, and it was such a more civilized way to see the show. The orchid show isn't quite the zoo that the holiday train show is, but being able to wander at a leisurely pace and actually see the flowers without having to view them through someone else's selfie stick is definitely preferable.

City Island: Off-Season

One of the obvious perks of living in New York vs. visiting is being able to visit places I love over and over again. I'm particularly enamored with visiting places in their off-seasons, like Coney Island, and most recently, City Island. City Island feels a little strange and abandoned even in the summer, so I was interested to see if it felt any different in the winter.

The contrast wasn't as drastic as I've noticed with Coney Island, but there was still a noticeable lull in activity compared to when JMP and I went in July. Most of the shops were closed, although most of the restaurants were open, even if their hours were limited. The cemetery, diner and antique store were all open, but the nautical museum was closed for the season.

This was my third trip to City Island in three years, and nothing much seems to change between visits—I've had the same waitress all three times I've eaten at the diner. The only major change is that the City Island bridge is being torn down and rebuilt. I wonder what will become of the delightfully charming "Seaport of the Bronx" sign that used to welcome visitors?

I say that winter is the "off-season" of City Island, but now I'm starting to think that every season in City Island is the off-season. I'll never not be fascinated by a place that is so close to the city, and yet seems as if it's part of another world entirely.

Van Cortlandt Park

Jim and I finally made it up to Van Cortlandt Park recently and it was a pretty perfect Sunday adventure. Van Cortlandt Park is in the Bronx, and is the third largest park in the city. In 1888 the Van Cortlandt family sold their land and house to the city, with the speculation that the land become a park and the house a museum.

The first thing we did upon arrival was take a tour of the Van Cortlandt house, the oldest building in the Bronx. The Georgian-style house was built in 1748 and was kept in the family until it was turned over to the city. According to our (very thorough) tour guide, George Washington visited on at least four occasions and the house was used by high-ranking officials on both sides during the Revolutionary War.

If you're at all interested in history or antiques (the "museum" part of the house is a collection of very valuable pieces donated from various sources), I highly recommend a visit to the house. We lucked out on catching a guide, who basically gave us a private tour of the property from top to bottom, but there is always a self-guided option.

After the house tour, we ventured onto a park trail that follows a former rail line. There were a few things I was hoping to check out along the path, and to my delight they were all very close to one another. In fact, only a few steps into the trail, we came across these stone pillars. I actually squealed with delight ("That may be the most excited I've ever seen you," said Jim) which was definitely over dramatic, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

These 13 stones were placed here in the 1910s to test out possible stones with which to build Grand Central Terminal. The idea was to test the durability of different types of stone, although in the end the New York Central Railroad chose Indiana Limestone, which would be the cheapest to transport via their own rail lines.

The trail that we were following is the Putnam Trail which runs along tracks formerly for the Putnam Division of the Central Railroad. There are still some remnants of the trail's previous life, including iron bridges and a really wonderful, rusty skeleton of an old train platform. I love when historical structures are restored and lovingly maintained, but I equally love a good ruin—and any day that includes excellent examples of both is a perfect day.

Woodlawn Cemetery

On Sunday Jim and I made the trek up to Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. Woodlawn is the very last stop on the 4 train, which is now significantly farther for me living in Brooklyn than it was when I lived in Harlem. We had tried to go once this past winter, only to be told the cemetery wasn't allowing walk-ins "due to hazardous conditions," (it was snowing, but come on).

A few weeks after we were rebuffed, I tried again on my own—there was snow on the ground but it was sunny and in the 40s—only to be denied entry for the same reason as before. I had successfully been to Woodlawn once (in the fall), but after two failed attempts I was slightly hesitant to go back. It's hard for me, however, to resist the allure of a cemetery—especially on a beautiful, sunny fall day.

One of the first mausoleums you see as you walk along the central drive belongs to the Woolworth family. I remembered it from my first trip because I've never met an Egyptian-style tomb that I haven't loved, and theirs is spectacular. Woodlawn opened in 1863 and is one of the largest cemeteries in the city. Like Green-Wood, it's a designated National Historic Landmark and is the final resting place of many famous people. We grabbed a map from the office and visited the graves of Miles Davis, Fiorello La Guardia, Duke Ellington, Irving Berlin, Herman Melville, Robert Moses (by the highway, of course), Montana "Copper King" W. A. Clark and Archibald Gracie, a survivor of the Titanic.

I've complained about the lackluster leaves this fall, but the trees in Woodlawn were really beautiful. The sunny, cloudless sky and midday sun combined with the bright oranges, yellows and reds to make the most wonderful backdrop for viewing headstones and monuments.

Woodlawn feels a little newer and a bit more grand than Green-Wood and there are certainly more mausoleums (up to $1.5 million to build one today). There were still some wonderfully spooky sights to be found in between the grandeur—an ornate, rusty chair, mourning girls and cherubs with their faces chiseled away by acid rain. My favorite though is Hattie, forever separated from her legs but still standing guard. We even found a mausoleum that was topped with a clock, which is not something that seems very necessary when most of your neighbors are no longer very concerned about keeping the time.

And speaking of those Egyptian monuments I love so much, Woodlawn is lousy with them. It seemed as if everywhere we looked we saw this wonderful style—slightly triangular, flanked by sphinxes, adorned with winged suns—probably a case of people "keeping up with the Joneses," or perhaps just the Woolworths.

Fordham University

Last summer, after I toured the Edgar Allan Poe Cottage in the Bronx, I headed down the road to explore Fordham University. Poe used to wander around the campus and his famous poem "The Bells," was allegedly inspired by the ringing bells of the University Church.

Fordham is a private university and I was surprised when I was stopped by a security guard upon entering the gates. He asked what I was doing at Fordham, and for my ID, but let me go ahead when I told him I was "just looking around." I was a bit taken aback by the exclusivity of the campus, but once inside, I was grateful for the solitude.

The campus is really, really beautiful, with tree-lined paths, large, manicured lawns, gorgeous flowers, fountains, statues and wonderfully-imposing buildings that scream COLLEGE. While most of the campus felt very historic and well-preserved, there were some modern additions thrown in for a nice juxtaposition of the old and new.

I even came across a surprise cemetery, which is my favorite kind of surprise. Fordham was founded in 1841 as St. John's College by the Catholic Diocese of New York. According to a plaque outside the gates, the cemetery is the final resting place for "124 sons of St. Ignatius Loyola, 68 Jesuit priests, 44 Jesuit brothers, 12 Jesuit scholastics ... 3 Diocesan Seminarians, 9 students and 2 college workmen."

It only seemed right to end my day of all things Poe by listening to the ringing bells (What a world of merriment their melody foretells!) of University Church. The church and courtyard are really beautiful, and the campus was nearly deserted the entire time I was there. Listening to the bells ringing was such a wonderful, peaceful moment and I got major nerd-satisfaction thinking that Poe might have had a very similar day, more than 150 years ago.

City Island 2015

I was obsessing so much over last year's visit to City Island (I wrote about it here and here) that I couldn't wait any longer to go back. Luckily, JMP was interested in going so we braved the heat and humidity on Sunday and headed up north. I already knew what to expect in terms of the travel involved, so the trip went by quickly and soon we were in the "Seaport of the Bronx" without much trouble at all.

I do wish that it hadn't been so insanely hot, but we made enough stops to make sure we cooled down. In some ways I even kind of enjoyed the heat—City Island just oozes summer to me, so the weather was right on par. However, I definitely want to visit in the off-season because I'm sure the slightly abandoned, strange feeling of the island is only heightened in the winter.

One of the things I love most about City Island is the lack of chain stores. We did notice a Dunkin' Donuts at the northern end and remarked to each other about how out of place it felt amongst all the local restaurants and shops. Sometimes New York can feel as if it's rapidly becoming one big strip mall as small businesses are squeezed out by high rents in favor of banks and Starbucks—it's refreshing to be in a place that feels so authentic.

At one point JMP said something to the effect of "you find the weirdest shit to take photos of..." which is definitely true, and thankfully not that difficult on City Island. I love how insular the island feels, like a true community where neighbors greet each other on the street and know everyone's business. The diner was filled with regulars, but we felt more than welcomed wherever we went, including the diner (the one where Jerry Seinfeld took Ricky Gervais on an episode of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee), the antique shop, the Nautical Museum, the cemetery and the ice cream stand.

Speaking of weird shit, the Early Ruth antique shop was an excellent stop, even if the mannequin hands I wanted weren't for sale (ugh) and the anthropomorphic hot dog statue of my dreams was way out of my price range ($3,500). The sombrero does come with the hot dog, though, in case you're interested.

We didn't spend a large portion of this trip drinking with locals at the Alehouse or eating fried shrimp at Johnny's Reef like last time, but we did walk the entire island. We ended up at Johnny's but we weren't hungry, so we just watched the seagulls which were equal parts fascinating and terrifying. I've never seen so many birds in one place outside of The Birds and it's kind of miraculous that we managed to avoid getting pooped on. We decided to call it a day pretty early since we were both tired from the heat, but I think my second trip to City Island was a success—I'm already dreaming about my third.

Pelham Cemetery

Last year when I went to City Island for the first time, I visited Pelham Cemetery and lamented that the gate was locked. JMP and I went to City Island yesterday, and to our delight found that the cemetery gate was actually open. In hindsight, the gate was probably unlocked the first time I was there too. They all appeared to be locked yesterday, but when I saw a highly faded sign declaring that the cemetery was open until 5pm every day, I investigated further and found that it was latched, but opened easily.

I've had my share of disappointment encountering locked cemeteries, so I felt very fortunate to be able to explore Pelham Cemetery a little further. It's not the most interesting cemetery, headstone-wise, but its location is definitely a selling point.

We found a few interesting headstones, like the graves for the Graves family and a few non-traditional markers made from metal or wood. JMP also pointed out that it would be quite extraordinary if Caroline Darling (b. 1887) was still alive, and then later I found Constance Wolff (b. 1882) who appears to have been blessed with similar longevity.

It felt like such a triumph to just be able to get inside of the cemetery that everything else was really just a bonus. Pelham is very small so we were able to see all of it in a short amount of time. I kept remarking on the amount of stones we saw that included some sort of sea reference, which makes sense for City Island, aka the Seaport of the Bronx.