Ellis Island Hospital: Part 3

During our tour of the abandoned hospital complex on the South Side of Ellis Island we were also lucky enough to be able to see the art exhibit "Unframed—Ellis Island" by JR scattered throughout the buildings. Life-size photographs of Ellis Island immigrants are pasted all around the complex—on broken windows, rusty lockers, walls—all interacting with their environments in interesting and surprising ways.

Usually I'm wary about installation pieces, especially if the building is something so extraordinary that it doesn't need any further embellishment, but this exhibit was spot-on. There were just enough of the pieces to keep you hunting for them, and to make them compelling when you did catch a glimpse as you turned the corner. Part of this has to do with the actual immigrants themselves—it's hard to beat the impact of seeing the people in situations and rooms in which they may have actually been.

Like all of the abandoned chairs, seeing the photographs really helped to humanize the spaces and allow us to better imagine what life must have been like when the buildings were operational. Our tour guide said that she had had descendants of some of the people in the photographs on her tours, which is pretty awesome. I've read quite a bit about Ellis Island, but this tour and exhibit left me wanting to know even more about the millions of people who passed through here and all of their fascinating stories.

Project 365: Days 9-15

9/365: I had a snowy commute to work and fell deeply in love with my new Bean Boots (so, SO worth the investment and wait).

10/365: We took the most amazing tour of the abandoned Ellis Island hospital complex and our wonderful tour guide pointed out this incredible view of the Statue of Liberty.

11/365: I spotted this amazing diner and its hyperbolic signage on a delightful walk through Queens (that included a stop at the delicious Dumpling Galaxy in Flushing).

12/365: A co-worker brought in her rotting bananas, so I took them home and turned them into banana bread for the office.

13/365: I didn't bring many knick knacks from my previous life when I moved to New York, but my bunny collection made the cut. I recently received this guy with precious gold feets from a wonderful friend for Christmas.

14/365: I finally started watching the first season of Broad City and immediately became obsessed. The episode where Abbi has to pick up a package on North Brother Island is everything.

15/365: Francesca and I spent our evening hanging out with some new pals at New York's first cat cafe, the Meow Parlour.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 2

As I was looking through my (massive amount of) photos from the incredible Ellis Island hospital tour that I took recently, I kept noticing chairs. Sometimes alone, sometimes in piles, sometimes neatly arranged, sometimes missing legs or splintered or covered in peeling paint—there were chairs everywhere.

There wasn't much in the way of actual objects in any of the buildings, apart from toilets, sinks, cabinets and other fixtures that were still attached in some way but there's something about an empty chair in an abandoned space that strikes me as especially creepy. Furnishings of any kind help make a space feel lived in and make it easier to imagine what the place was like when it was operational.

Some of the chairs felt purposeful, others felt tossed aside, but they always made me stop and look a little longer and a little differently than I might have in a completely empty space. Some even looked like they were just patiently waiting for their former occupants to return at any minute.

My favorite was actually a little stool—worn, cracked, covered in dust and missing half of one leg but still standing somewhat impossibly upright, basking in the bright sunlight.

Snowy Commute

Last Friday I woke up to an unexpected snowfall and decided to walk to work through Central Park. I used to walk to and from work more frequently before I moved farther north and I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it. I actually cheated a bit and took the subway to West 96th Street and Central Park West and then walked my old route along the reservoir to East 91st Street and Fifth Avenue.

We didn't get a ton of snow, and it had almost stopped falling by the time I was on my way but the park was beautiful. I love the city and especially Central Park in any weather, but if I absolutely had to pick a favorite, snow would win. There were even less people than out than usual, mostly people walking their adorable coat-wearing dogs. If you ever needed evidence that snow is magic to me, I felt compelled to wish everyone I passed a "good morning," which is the total opposite of my usual strategy of complete and total avoidance of all unnecessary human interaction.

I finally got a comfortable pair of snow boots and a proper winter jacket with an absurd Arctic-explorer faux-fur hood, so I could have stayed out all day. Unfortunately I had to get to work eventually (is anyone else consistently annoyed by the need to have a job and be a responsible adult?) but hopefully this was just a preview of the winter delights still to come.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 1

On Saturday Jim, Katie, Grace and I took a tour of the abandoned hospital complex on the south side of Ellis Island. I had booked our tickets the day they became available—back on balmy October 1st. Saturday was very cold, but brilliantly sunny, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that the tour was the best tour I've ever taken in my entire life.

This was due partly to us lucking into a private tour when the other people scheduled for our time never showed up, partly due to our incredibly knowledgable, friendly and all-around awesome tour-guide, and partly due to the fact that the buildings are in such a beautiful state of decay.

The sunlight streaming in from open doors, broken windows and holes in the ceilings made every single angle more interesting than the last and as usual I took more photos than I thought humanly possible. I have a few more posts planned for the grounds and a wonderful art installation that was sprinkled around the buildings, but these are my favorites from the interior spaces.

The complex reminded me so much of Eastern State Penitentiary, and as much as I adored our tour-guide, I do wish I had had free reign and more time to spend taking photos. It's probably better that I had some parameters, however, because I most definitely would have just never left.

Our tour was long—even longer than the allotted 90 mins because our guide was that awesome—but I could have spent days inside of the crumbling autopsy room, mortuary, doctors' quarters, laundry, infectious disease wards and all of the other fascinating corridors winding around the island.

Surprising no one, my favorite room was the autopsy room with its four huge body freezers, sinks, lights and theater-like set-up. Ellis Island was a state-of-the-art medical facility and teaching hospital in its heyday and was one of the largest public health hospitals in the US.

In 1930 the hospital closed, and the entire complex was abandoned in 1954—this is the first time that the public has ever been allowed to tour the buildings. Some of the complex is still far too unstable to allow visitors and everyone must sign a waiver and wear a hardhat before beginning the tour.

I would absolutely take the tour again in a heartbeat. Even if the ticket price might seem pricey ($43), all of that money goes to Save Ellis Island, a group whose mission it is to help protect and preserve the historic hospital complex.

Project 365: Days 1-8

Inspired by the crazy-talented Kaylah of The Dainty Squid, I decided to do the photo-a-day, 365 project this year. I'm hoping it will help me become less afraid to take photos of the things I want to remember and less embarrassed to have my camera with me as much as I can.

Some moments from the first 8 days of 2015:

1/365: I spent New Year's Day at Coney Island, watching crazy people run into the freezing ocean and ate at a new-to-me diner.

2/365: I reorganized my work wall to accommodate some new swag.

3/365:  I spent a rainy Saturday at the New Museum and visited the Sky Room.

4/365: I took a foggy, damp stroll along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade.

5/365: In my next life I'm coming back as my cat.

6/365: Emma Stone and Alan Cumming were phenomenal in Cabaret and the show was entirely delightful. While we were waiting in the lobby, Eddie Redmayne and an Amish-bearded Andrew Garfield walked right past us—just a totally normal New York Tuesday night.

7/365:

Sale on strawberries + chocolate = a treat for my coworkers (and me).

8/365: I took a drawing class for the first time since college and was surprised at how much fun I had (also my first time ever drawing a human).

Hopefully I can keep this up all year—thanks for following along!

Philadelphia: Christ Church Burial Ground

While Jim and I were walking around Philadelphia, we kept seeing signs for Benjamin Franklin's gravesite. It hadn't initially been on my list, but I'm never one to pass up the opportunity to see a historic cemetery, so we made sure to stop at the Christ Church Burial Ground to pay our respects.

CCBG has the distinction of being the only cemetery that I've ever had to pay admission to enter, although that wasn't going to deter me from visiting. You can actually see Franklin's grave from the sidewalk if you're totally against paying the $2 fee, but the grounds are beautiful and contain some wonderfully old tombstones (the oldest known marker is from 1721).

The first thing you notice about Franklin's grave is how plain and simple it is, and a sign hanging close by states that it was prepared in exact accordance with the instructions contained within his will. I happen to prefer the epitaph that he wrote as a young man, with its literary references and the line "food for worms," which I think is pretty much perfect in every way.

The fall leaves provided an excellent backdrop to the crumbling stones, and I've never met an arching, iron entrance gate that I haven't immediately fallen in love with. In addition to Franklin, the burial ground is the final resting place of four signers of the Declaration of Independence, the publisher of the first daily newspaper, Civil War generals, Pennsylvania governors, artists and several descendants of Franklin as well as his wife.

NYBG: Holiday Train Show 2014

Before my membership ran out at the end of the year, I made one last visit to the New York Botanical Garden for the Holiday Train Show. I went to the train show twice last year but they add buildings every year, so I wanted to see what was new.

My complaint from last year was the same this year: there are too many children and pushy parents, but that is to be expected. I wasn't able to go during a weekday this year, so I braved the crowds on a Saturday morning. It's all pretty organized, so you can still see everything and they do offer child-free bar car nights for evil child-hating hags such as myself. I renewed my membership, so maybe this will be the year I finally do the nighttime visit.

A lot of the buildings and bridges were repeats from last year, but there was enough new material and different arrangements to make it interesting. I've also seen a lot of the real-life versions of things since last year, so it's always a thrill to recognize a replica and compare it to my impression of the original.

This year I recognized Lyndhurst, Sunnyside, Kykuit, the Little Red Lighthouse, the Bartow-Pell mansion, the Jewish Museum, the Apollo Theater, the Old Stone House, Gracie Mansion, the Morris-Jumel mansion, and the TWA flight center specifically from my travels. There was also a special exhibit on World Fair structures, including the Unisphere and the New York State Pavilion and a display featuring famous mansions in the Hudson Valley area—both of which I've visited recently.

It was sad to see a particularly beautiful mansion only to read that it had been demolished years ago, and seeing the old Penn Station—even one made from twigs and leaves—is always bittersweet. I love the innovation and interesting use of natural materials, and anything in miniature never ceases to fascinate me.

The models are really extensive, with staircases and interior lighting and patterned roof tiles—all made from sticks, leaves, nuts and flowers. Although it's called a train show, and there are plenty of trains running around the displays, it's really more about the wonderful architecture and neighborhoods of New York. Like one of my other favorite places to visit—the New York Panorama—the Holiday Train Show is a little extravagant, a little kitschy and a whole lot of just-for-fancy.

Philadelphia: Reading Terminal Market

When Jim and I went to Philadelphia in November, we stayed with his grandparents outside of the city. Before we headed back to their place for the night, Jim wanted to pick up a pie to take for dinner, so we stopped in Reading Terminal Market. I get really overwhelmed by indoor markets and Reading Terminal was crazy crowded, but full of amazing signage, delicious smells and beautiful food.

The first thing I noticed was all of the gorgeous neon signs hanging everywhere you looked. There were lobsters and pretzels and Liberty Bells, cheesesteaks, donuts, ice cream and tons of other things I would have gladly devoured if we had the time. Jim eventually interrupted my wide-eyed gawking to ask if I had seen the Chocolate by Mueller booth and when I saw their chocolate lungs, I immediately knew it would be my favorite shop in the market.

They make standard chocolates and candies, but they are known for their "weird" chocolate shapes—lungs, hands, faces, teeth, eyes, noses, ears, kidneys, brains and hearts—all completely edible and guaranteed to be the hit of any party (from their website: "'Oops, I thought you said a dozen noses' explains the chocolate bunch of nostrils"). They also sell a chocolate-covered onion, which is exactly what it sounds like and a popular seller, despite probably being totally disgusting.

I actually never ended up purchasing anything because I was overwhelmed with so many wonderful choices that I couldn't make a decision. Luckily they sell most of the shapes in their online store if I decide I just can't go on any longer without owning (and eating) a pair of chocolate kidneys.

New Museum: Chris Ofili

Saturday was rainy and miserable outside, so I decided to check out the Chris Ofili exhibition at the New Museum. I had never been to the New Museum before, or heard of Ofili, but after a coworker mentioned that he had gone and said that Ofili was famous for his elephant dung pieces, I thought it was worth a visit.

His most controversial work, The Holy Virgin Mary, is on display once again (15 years after Giuliani was so appalled by it he threatened to shut down the Brooklyn Museum), along with similar mixed-media canvasses, paintings and a few sculptures. The exhibition is small, occupying three galleries in the museum, and my only complaint is that I wish there were even more pieces on display.

After I got over the initial novelty of the strategically placed dung, I found myself drawn to his sculptures more than his canvas work. There were only a few sculptures scattered throughout, but his take on the Annunciation—with its beautifully contrasting textures and materials—was wonderful.

It's also hard not to love Shithead, a ball of his signature dung with a crude mouth containing real human teeth and topped with pieces of Ofili's own dreadlocks. Sometimes I become annoyed at the simplicity or shock-without-substance nature of some contemporary art shows or I just don't "get" them at all, but Ofili's work is intricate, powerful and definitely different than anything I've seen before.

Holiday Windows 2014: Saks Deco

In addition to the Fairy Tale-themed main window displays, the rest of Saks Fifth Avenue's windows are more fashion-focused with an Art Deco style. Before we arrived at Saks, I had just been telling Jim that I really didn't understand fur as fashion. We had seen a few people walking down Fifth Avenue in absurdly ostentatious full-length fur, and aside from all of the ethical reasons why fur is wrong, I thought it just didn't look great. Then we came to Saks, where nearly half of the ensembles in the Deco windows included a fur piece of some kind (I'm not sure if it's real or faux, but I'm guessing if it's at Saks, it's real).

I had to admit that the mannequins looked stunning, although it's hard not to love the sparkles, the swirling beadwork. the golds and silvers and the classic glamour that is inherent to the Deco style. The New York Times would be pleased to know that I spotted at least two monocles on the male mannequins, which—along with the pencil-thin mustaches—helped them look extra sinister.

These photos also ended up having that interesting double-exposure look since they were taken in the afternoon, with Rockefeller Center serving as the quintessential Art Deco architectural backdrop. There were at least two actual Rockettes costumes on display (the skyline dress and the feather headdress ensemble), which were neat to see in person and reminded me that I need to get to the Radio City show next year. I am a huge fan of classic, Christmas-themed displays or the insanely intricate themes at Bergdorf Goodman, but I found myself really appreciating and marveling at the truly just-for-fancy fashions at Saks.

Phoenix: Xu Bing at the Cathedral

On Saturday I didn't have many plans, so I wandered around for a while and stopped into the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I was hoping to see their paper crane tree, which I did, but I had forgotten that the Cathedral was playing host to a huge sculpture installation from Xu Bing, called the Phoenix.

Constructed of pieces of discarded construction debris from Beijing, two birds (Feng and Huang) hang suspended in the Nave. They are enormous and really intricate, with bits of curling, twisting metal, fire extinguishers, fans, metal signs and pipes. They are both lit with hundreds of tiny lights, and paired with the already-jaw-dropping scale of the Cathedral it's quite an impressive sight.

I'm not super into installation pieces in historic spaces—especially when I just want to see the original space—but I've been to the Cathedral enough that this is a welcome change. Exhibitions like this are best seen in person so you can really experience the massive scale (like the Kara Walker Domino Sugar exhibit). Phoenix is on display until February and entrance into the Cathedral is free (suggested $10 donation).

Holiday Windows 2014: Saks Fairy Tales

This weekend I met up with Jim and we walked down Fifth Avenue, taking in the holiday window displays. I had already seen Bergdorf's, but I wanted to see how the others compared. While it's nearly impossible to beat Bergdorf's insanely intricate scenes, the windows at Saks are a worthy runner-up. I appreciate that they keep things orderly by installing a railing and even security guards, so you have a chance to properly take in each window without a million people bumping into you or lingering for hours.

Their main window displays this year had a fairy tale theme which aligned nicely with my recent Into the Woods soundtrack obsession (the movie version, but of course). We met up in the afternoon, which isn't the best time to see the windows but I did end up getting some pretty interesting photos.

I was getting frustrated with all of the reflections, but when I got home and looked through the photos I liked them so much more than I thought I would. You could do worse than to have Rockefeller Center as a backdrop, and most of the photos ended up looking like funky double-exposures.

I would love to see these all lit up at night, but after Sunday's Home Alone 2 and window tour, I think I'm all holiday-crowded out. I've definitely petted Christmas to death as I tend to do, and I'm right on schedule this year. Merry Christmas Eve!

Dyker Heights Lights 2014

Last year was my first year experiencing the tacky, extravagant joy that is Dyker Heights at Christmastime. The Brooklyn neighborhood is famous for its over-the-top lights and decorations, most of which are set against already ridiculous houses—waterfalls, stone lions, nude statues, elaborate columns, monogrammed stained glass windows and golden gates are not uncommon in Dyker Heights.

That being said, the Ohio girl in me knows that suburban light displays can get insane, and when you compare the lights in DH to ones across the country, they aren't majorly impressive. They are, however, somewhat of an anomaly in New York—it's strange to even be walking around a neighborhood that has actual yards.

I like that Dyker Heights is accessible by subway and you see so much more of the lights by being able to walk around, instead of driving through like you might do in the suburbs. This time around I spotted a lot of the vintage plastic light-up figures that I love so much—tons of Santas, Frostys, toy soldiers, nativity scenes, angels, a few reindeer and a Mrs. Claus or two.

I have very specific tastes when it comes to Christmas decorations, but generally the more simple and classic, the better. Simple and classic aren't really the words I would use to describe most of the decorations to be found in Dyker Heights, but I will always appreciate a certain level of tackiness and the willingness to go overboard no matter the season.

I really, really despise the recent influx of inflatables, although there is something so ridiculous about an inflatable nativity scene that I can't help but love them. The more worn and weird the decoration is, the more I love it as well, and it will be hard to beat the one-eyed choir boy for creepiest Christmas decoration of the season.

Most of the houses we remembered from last year, and it makes sense that they wouldn't change much from year to year. There is the "Vegas" house, which is covered in rope lights and has a twinkling Eiffel Tower in the front yard (?), the one that is positively lousy with inflatables and the one that looks like it has a face—but the one that has been the most memorable two years running is the candy house. There is something so whimsical, delicious and tiny bit dark (Hansel and Gretel, anyone?) about a real life house made up to look edible, with gumdrops and fruit slices and ice cream cones lining the porch and stuck to the brick walls.

I highly recommend that you take a trip out to Dyker Heights, if you've never been. It's a bit of a journey, but it's definitely worth it for the creepy Santas, pipe-smoking snowmen and sketchy choir boys—if you're really lucky you might even see an inflatable baby Jesus or two.

Christmas in Newport

Jim and I spent last weekend in Newport, Rhode Island, touring some of the mansions that we couldn't fit in on our trip back in September, strolling through the historic district and reveling in the Christmas delights. During our previous trip, we discovered that a few of the mansions are decorated for the holidays, so we immediately started planning our return.

The Breakers, the Elms and Marble House are all decorated, and coincidentally we had skipped the Elms and Marble House on our first tour. I had been to both once before on my first trip to Newport, but I had never been in the off-season. Photography is usually off-limits inside of the mansions, but exceptions were made in each house for some of the more elaborately decorated sections.

All three houses were beautifully decorated, with trees in almost every room, garland-covered banisters and elaborate mantlepiece scenes. The Breakers even had a display of gingerbread Newport Mansions—I loved the renditions of the Chinese Tea House from Marble House and Kingscote, which we toured back in September.

Of course all of the decorations are really just for show—most of the mansions were strictly summer homes and sat empty in the winter months. Historically accurate or not, the mansions are perfect backdrops for the opulent reds and golds of Christmas and every grand staircase looks even more grand wrapped in evergreen.

Of course I also enjoyed the more humble wreaths and candy-cane-striped porch columns that we spotted on our walk around town. I've always thought that New England is a quintessential fall destination, but it turns out that the colonial, federal and shingle-style houses with their dark green siding and bright red doors are pretty perfect for the Christmas season as well.

Triborough / RFK Bridge

Back in September, after a day spent exploring the always-weird Randall's Island, I made an impulse decision to walk across a portion of the Triborough Bridge (officially renamed the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge in 2008) into Queens. I happened upon a pedestrian ramp while I was dreading the long walk back into Manhattan, so it was by a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity that I ended up on one of the last city bridges that I had left on my to-walk list.

I knew from my exploration of Astoria Park that the Triborough Bridge would dump me out near a subway line in Queens but I didn't expect it to be such a harrowing—and at times truly terrifying—bridge walk. The ramp from Randall's Island was innocuous enough—enclosed with chain link fence and rising above and over the strange mix of industrial, athletic and mental health facilities that populate Randall's Island. However, once I was on the actual bridge it began to get a bit scary with the highway so close to the walkway, and cyclists speeding by me despite the many "walk your bicycle" warnings along the narrow pedestrian route.

Like the Manhattan Bridge, the Triborough has an additional chain link safety fence sitting on top of the original railing—that is, until the very moment that you stop being over land, and begin to cross over the Hell Gate section of the East River, at which point the safety fence completely disappears. I'm not normally afraid of heights but with speeding traffic to my right and a crazy drop into the choppy river to my left (not to mention a walkway with large gaps that would shake violently every time a truck would go by) it was a less-than-leisurely stroll into Queens.

Incidentally, the safety fence reappeared when I was once again over land, making it the least-effective fence I've ever encountered. The views of Randall's Island, the spooky Manhattan Psychiatric Center and the Hell Gate Bridge are pretty nice—even more so when I was safely back at ground level and finally reviewed my photos.

There are two other legs of the bridge still to walk (the portions spanning the Harlem River and the Bronx Kill) if I want to be a completionist about it, but I have my heart set on the George Washington as my next bridge walk—as soon as (or if) my Triborough trauma subsides.

Panorama of the City of New York

One of my reasons for taking my friend JMP to Flushing Meadows-Corona Park was to show her the Panorama of the City of New York, a remnant of the 1964-65 World's Fair. "Conceived as a celebration of the City’s municipal infrastructure by urban mastermind and World’s Fair President Robert Moses for the 1964 Fair, the Panorama was built by a team of more than 100 people working for the great architectural model makers Raymond Lester & Associates over the course of three years," according to the Queens Museum (where the Panorama is currently on permanent display).

It has been updated a few times since its debut, with the most recent complete overhaul taking place in 1992. Since then buildings have been updated or added sporadically and you can actually "adopt" a building for as little as $50 (who wants to buy me the Chrysler Building?).

Like the Unisphere, the Panorama still astounds me every time I see it. The Queens Museum just underwent an extensive renovation and it's a beautiful space but the exhibits are sparse—that being said, the Panorama is more than reason enough to make the trip out to Queens.

The first time I ever saw it, most of the museum was still closed for construction—in fact the only thing we saw during that visit was the Panorama and I definitely didn't leave disappointed.

There are walkways around the entire perimeter of the Panorama, tracing the route that the original indoor helicopter ride took during the World's Fair. The model is built to a scale of 1:1200 where one inch equals 100 feet—the Empire State Building is just 15 inches tall.

It is endlessly entertaining to stare at each borough, picking out landmarks like Yankee Stadium, the Flatiron Building, the original World Trade Towers and all of the museums, parks and bridges that I love so much—there are even little mini planes "taking off" and "landing" in a continuous loop at LaGuardia airport. It's also fun to try and find your own address—especially easy in Manhattan where you can count the street grid using major buildings as a guide.

Everything looks better in miniature and the city is no exception. The thing I like most about the Panorama, however, is that it really serves no discernible purpose. Although it was originally meant to be repurposed after the Fair as an urban planning tool, today the Panorama really serves no function past being incredibly awesome to behold. To use a phrase from one of my favorite tour guides ever, the Panorama of the City of New York is truly "just for fancy," making it one of my favorite attractions in all of New York.

Eastern State Penitentiary: Part 2

Last week I shared some of my photos from the crumbling interior of the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia. ESP was operational from 1829 until 1971, was designed by John Haviland and was the largest and most expensive public structure ever constructed.

It sits in the Fairmount section of Philadelphia, and looks completely out of place nestled in a neighborhood of coffee shops and row houses. Some of the most interesting stories on the audio tour were about ESP's famous inmates, notably Al Capone and "Slick" Willie Sutton. Slick Willie was one of twelve inmates who escaped via a tunnel in April of 1945. Eleven of them were eventually recaptured and one—James Grace—even asked to be let back in.

The tunnel has recently been excavated (after being filled in following the escape) and you can actually walk inside of the cell and see the opening. A line on the pavement outside traces the tunnel's route, under the ground and past the outside walls.

ESP is filled with fascinating stories like this, but my favorite inmate is definitely Pep the dog. In 1924, Pep was sentenced to life in prison for killing the Pennsylvania Governor's cat—or at least that's what a newspaper reporter wrote at the time. The real story is slightly less dramatic, and has Pep being sent to the prison to help rehabilitate prisoners (and because he was chewing on the Governor's couch cushions). Either way, there is a mugshot of Pep, which is pretty fantastic.

ESP's most famous prisoner, however, is probably Al Capone, who spent 8 months at Eastern State in 1929-1930. They've recreated his cell as it looked when he was there, complete with fancy furniture, an oriental rug, soft lighting, artwork and a radio.

Another cell even has a full-sized tree growing through the wall, and it continues into the neighboring cell. There is so much history at Eastern State and there was something fascinating in every single corner I peeked into. The day I went was beautiful and sunny, and you get to wander the grounds as freely as you do the interior. I hesitate to say that I thoroughly enjoyed being inside of a prison, but even if I was sad to leave, I'm glad I at least had the option.

Eastern State Penitentiary: Part 1