Some places you visit you will remember because of what you saw and there are places you visit you will remember because of the way they made you feel. Ours started in the grey uncertain light of early morning, and gathered together in a quiet curb, as New York City opened its eyes upon us. No one was crowding the streets yet, the noise was not yet deafening, and at one moment the city seemed to be quieting down. Parked beside us was one of those charter buses--unobtrusive, practical, and, as we should very soon learn, the mutual centre of all that was to come. The decision to use a New York charter bus rental had appeared an easy choice initially. It was as though it was the reason that the whole experience was successful by the time the journey was over.
The Shape of a Shared Beginning
We did not make a homogeneous team. Others knew one another for years, and others had just met, and others had chanced together. But there was a kind of unanimity among us: this journey would be different. It would not be in a hurry or disjointed. We did not want to get to the same places; we wanted to go through the city.
The intention came into being when we got into the bus. The interior was a blank, near-neutral space, waiting to be occupied. Backpacks slipped into overhead bins, seats were taken without discussion, and talk started in small groups. Someone shared snacks. Somebody else was playing music in the background by connecting a phone. The car made a jerk back out into the street, and before you knew it, the ride was on--not at a place, but in motion.
A City That Moves—And a Way to Keep Up
New York is said to be inexorable. It does not slow down, does not wait and does not easily accommodate groups that are trying to keep together. There is a good public transport system that is impersonal; taxis are fast yet lonely. It is simple to get lost- not physically alone, but experientially.
The bus transformed that dynamic completely. It provided us with continuity. We did not scatter over destinations, but went together. It was not necessary to organize meeting places in the busy crossroads and to follow what had been announced on which subway train. The bus turned into a fixed element, a mutual point in a city that is characterized by mobility.
The city was slowly unveiled to us as we drove further into Manhattan. The early light struck glass towers, shopfronts were rolled open, one at a time, and people started to fill the sidewalks. We could see all this through the broad windows, not as spectators, but as actors who happened to be passing through the same room at the same rate.
Encountering the Familiar, Feeling Something New
The Statue of Liberty was our first significant destination, and it was so iconic that it came close to being almost symbolic. But there they stood together, and the familiarity had to yield to the immediate.
We did not hurry to it. Rather we came near gradually as though we were allowing ourselves time to become accustomed to its presence. The statue was as it was always the case: steady, composed, unwavering but the process of viewing it was anything but stagnant. We heard the clicking of cameras, the silence of conversation, and then, as though we were all the most talkative, we appeared to have nothing left to do but look.
When a group does something significant there is a slight change that occurs. The shared moment is made shared, yet mixed. Everyone has his or her own outlook, his or her own interpretation and in some way the overall experience is greater due to it.
On the bus again the energy was different. The excitement which had been felt had been hardened into reflection. Individuals talked at a slower pace, more thoughtfully. The city was not merely a scene anymore, but now it had started to interact with us.
The Electric Rhythm of the City
Had the morning been one of arrival, the noonday was one of immersion. Times Square received us in its accustomed frenzy--an enormous combination of light, sound, and movement which appeared to oppose stillness. The giant screens shone interminably, the crowds of people rushed in all directions, and the air seemed electric.
We all went into it together, but soon had broken away into smaller parties, each of which was attracted by something different. Others hung around with street performers, others went shopping, and some just stood around and took it all in. But not even as we dispersed did we feel disconnected. The confidence was quiet knowing that we were going to the same place--to the bus, to one another.
Such self-reliance and unity became one of the peculiarities of the journey. The New York charter bus rental enabled us to move easily between the two without ever feeling lost.
Moments That Breathe
Having left the bustle of Times Square, it was almost a surprise to enter Central Park and almost feel that one was in another city. The sound faded away, giving place to the quieter tones of the rustling of leaves, and far-off laughter, and the even tread of feet along winding walks.
We dropped here. It was natural, not because we needed to do it, but because it felt right. Others were walking in pairs, and we were continuing some of the conversations that we had started on the bus. Some strolled singly, in silence. Some of them sat somewhere, leaned back and allowed the moment to pass.
There was time to be had in the park. It was neither urgent nor the feeling that there was some need to rush. It was like a reminder that in a city where everyone is busy, there are areas where it is possible to stop.
Crossing Between Perspectives
We would later be on the Brooklyn Bridge, gradually crossing over the East River. The view is almost too ideal beneath the bridge, with the skyline behind us, the water below and the city before us in such a manner that makes it look like it has been set up by a painter.
The view was not the only thing that made the moment memorable. It was how we felt it. One of them stopped to take a photo and took the time to adjust the angle. Another leaned on the railing and was looking at the way of the boats passed. Some of them were in front, and they would look back to see how we were doing.
It could not be taken in one way and that was the point. The collective experience did not negate personal views-it magnified them.
The Quiet Importance of In-Between Moments
The pillars of the day were the landmarks, the intervals between which provided the form. The bus was not just a means of transportation, but rather a place where the experience could be digested, debated and silently digested.
And there were times of laughter--narratives, anecdotes, the sort of light talk that occurs when everybody is relaxed. Silences also occurred, and no one felt the necessity to talk. Individuals peeped through the windows and watched the city go by but everyone was busy with their thoughts.
In between moments are what are usually neglected in travel writing, yet it is where most of the meaning lies. They give the room to make the dots, to make a sequence of destinations into a unified experience.
Tasting the City
Food turned out to be another means of cognizing New York. We halted at street vendors, because of the simplicity of it--fast, tasty, and decidedly local. Much later we were at the same small restaurant together, the type that you could easily pass over without noticing.
Breaks were drawn out. Conversations deepened. Food was spread around, views were taken and suggestions discussed. It was not about the food per se, but about the sharing of the food.
At its finest, travel appeals to all of the senses. It is what you see and what you taste, hear and feel. All these elements merge in New York making the experience as stratified as the city is.
Adapting to the Unpredictable
Not even a trip to New York takes place just as intended. We were held up by traffic. Timelines shifted. It had its moments of indecision, the moments when strategies needed to be changed.
Never was there a pause in the general effect of these difficulties. They strengthened it, if anything. We accustomed ourselves to each other, spoke, and proceeded. The availability of the bus helped to move back to the group, to refocus and to keep moving.
Being able to know where to turn back to in a city that was characterized by unpredictability made a significant difference.
Understanding What Made It Work
By late in the afternoon, when the day started winding down, it was evident that the success of the journey was not by chance. To a great extent, it was influenced by the choice of travelling together in such a manner that its primary emphasis was on being connected.
The New York charter bus rental provided more than convenience. It provided order and yet flexibility, it provided comfort and yet lack of isolation, continuity in a city that seldom rests. It enabled us to feel New York as a whole and not as a sequence of distinct moments.
We were not locked up as a couple. We wandered around without being out of place. And in so doing we found a rhythm which was natural, almost effortless.
The City, Revisited in Memory
One last time in the evening we came back to the bus. The outer city was different. The lights flickered, the glass windows glimmered and the vitality changed to night vitality.
The atmosphere was more subdued indoors. Others sat up, leaning back in their seats. Others were scrolling through pictures and reliving previous times in the day. Some just stared out the window as the city went by one more time.
It is a certain type of silence which follows a significant experience, not empty, but full. It is the silence of contemplation, of knowledge, of a thing finding its place.
Conclusion
What had meant only to sightsee New York together had now turned into something more complex, more substantial. The city had given its scenery, its dynamism, its opposites. What made the experience, though, was the manner in which we traversed it.
We had not rushed. We had not broken up into bits. We had remained close together not only physically, but also emotionally, experientially. That was what the bus in its silent regularity had rendered possible.
The city of New York is said to be a city of people who all have something to do, and every story takes place on its own. And, however, a little, we felt it otherwise. We were collectively positioned, we used the same space and we invented a collective story that would not have been achieved by each one of us individually.
The bus was taking us away, the skyline slowly fading into the background, and there was a mutual comprehension--unconscious, yet very intense. It had not been a simple trip. It had been a sightseeing of the city, and maybe, of each other, too.
And years after the trip was over, that feeling of connection persisted--the silent, lingering shadow that to some degree, the manner of the travel is as important as the destination.
Sign in to leave a comment.