Breathing Travel

Looking down upon 79th Street Transverse from Central Park, the ubiquitous yellow cabs passing underway feel as natural as the cherry blossoms that surround me. Juxtaposed against an oasis of calm, Fifth Avenue bustles at the Park’s perimeter with a constant stream of boot-to-pavement. A scene just as frenetic is playing out in the Met Museum, to my left; stoic, its interior is overrun by tourists trying to navigate its expanse.

This is New York – a city of dichotomies. Home to 8 million people, it is the most bustling metropolis in the United States. New York is where I, an expat from Sydney based in a city charged with an unstoppable energy, found my peace.

I fell in love with Ali with the same ease that I’d fallen for New York. Just as I’d experienced it whilst standing in Times Square on my very first night in the big city, I had felt a similar sensation years later on our first date in Sushi Samba on Park Avenue; both times I remember thinking to myself, “This feels right.” I was caught in New York’s embrace from the onset. Whisked into its whirlwind, the city subsequently unraveled a series of monumental moments along the way. Meeting Ali was the most definitive - it sparked a new beginning.

The owner of a café in Brooklyn’s family-centric Park Slope, Ali’s was the only spot in the brownstone-lined neighborhood that buzzed with young singles. Entering the space, dimly lit for its exposed brick and candlelight, I remember feeling at home. Our conversation felt familiar for two people who’d just met. I’d returned the next weekend for a Saturday morning coffee, although those almond-shaped brown eyes had also made an impression. During this second meeting we had exchanged numbers.

Since that first date, we’ve been walking the same path. Standing in Central Park 5 years later, newly married, my love for New York has taken on a deeper meaning. Beneath its layers that so can easily seduce, enthrall, and enchant beats a warm and loving heart.