In eleven years since my emigration, I’ve only visited two major American cities outside of New York: Washington DC and Boston. I was always very disinterested in American history; it seemed too provincial, too political and excruciatingly dull. Lately, I feel more and more like a North-Eastern American and this country’s history is naturally more appealing to me. US is temporarily holding Cris hostage and so we’re taking this opportunity to see places we always frown upon.
We had a 2–day window and Philadelphia became the most convenient destination. Cris is a resourceful little girl; she quickly found a marvelous-looking little hotel in the middle of Philly’s historic district and off we went. Two hour trip on I-95 landed us smack in the middle of the city where we comfortably parked across the hotel and made ourselves known to the maitre d’. Because our check-in time wasn’t until 3pm, we ran for a little taste of Philly. Just one block away from Morris House Hotel is one of the oldest city parks, The Washington Square, which gently led us to Independence National Historical Park (see photos). Just two blocks away from the hotel stands the Independence Hall and starts off a series of some of the oldest and historically most impressive buildings in United States. We walked past the Second and First Banks of United States which began a chain of Philly’s amusing enumeration schemes, like the First, Second, Third Churches, etc. I may be a brute but I can’t appreciate early colonial architecture due to it’s lack of detail, pompous attempts at grandness, pathetically small scale and general failure to impress. Nonetheless, I was walking on the very ground where one of the world’s greatest revolution took place, I stood in the halls where American forefathers assembled to create the most prosperous and tolerant nation. We saw the Carpenter’s Hall and City Tavern and after, walked many different and absolutely fascinating streets. Cris notably noticed how flowery the old town was; so many colors with so many scents (something that New Yorkers know well but unfortunately while seeing and smelling the city’s garbage). Old Philadelphia is absolutely clean yet the old buildings maintain a sense of slight disrepair giving a tourist the impression of age and history. We walked down to St. Peter’s church where its curator was pleasant enough to give us a private talk about Episcopal traditions and the past of the building. Our next stop was the Elfreth’s Alley, known as the oldest continuously populated street in the United States – yes, people still live there and there was even a building for sale. Then I wanted to stop by Betsy Ross’ place but this place was a rip off where they wanted a few bucks for showing us a few items old Betsy owned and sowed. We dropped by the Christ Church where you can sit in Benny Franklin’s pew and where curators uninvitedly ramble on even as we politely try to exit. Already hungry and certainly tired, we decided to finally walk by The National Constitution Center and the US Mint. We came back to Chestnut St. to once more smile at the very provincial nature of Philadelphia – The Liberty Bell is US’s overblown emblem and Philly’s most talked about attraction. Here we saw cops scream at old ladies who tried to sneak in past the separator into the grounds of The Independence Hall. The police also diligently regulated casual pedestrian traffic (3–4 people) across the Liberty Bell Center.
It was time to eat and we stopped by Jones where we were impressed by the decor and especially by spectacular food (only $40 full lunch for 2). It was time to check in to Morris House, a tender little place which I must strongly recommend to anyone who plans to stay in Philadelphia. This 1787 building is still perfectly intact (2003 renovation). Modern amenities (cable, wireless internet, sound system, TV, remote controlled AC/Heat, etc) seamlessly blend in with original furniture and well-designed old rooms. The garden inside is a little heaven. The place has the traditional screeching stairs, a grand ambiance and everything is remarkably tidy and clean. The hotel staff needs work but their slight inadequacies won’t ruin your stay – stay in this gem, it’s cheap, elegant and dreamy.
After settling in, we went across town to Rittenhouse Square. The new city is thoroughly unimpressive however according to Cris still feels European, with wider sidewalks relaxed atmosphere and thorough cleanliness. Rittenhouse is a snazzy place with expensive cafes and shebang hotels yet nothing worth writing about. Around and about the square are many churches and synagogues but again nothing to rave about (perhaps we were already too tired to pay attention). As soon as the soon faded, Philly became a ghost town. People disappeared and everything appeared eerie. We thought about visiting the University District and descended down to the Metro station (the most scary stop in Philly); there was a long walkway ahead of us with a big, drunk friendly black guy who put his hand around my shoulder and began explaining how we would go about getting where we wanted to go, we decided not to follow his suggestion and zoomed back up. What’s left to see? Hmmm … not much. We circled the City Hall, then went to the Pennsylvania Convention Center where a big old train station was remodelled to host events. Cris and I complained to each other like little girls about our foot pain and agreed to head back to our hotel. Before going to our room we had drinks at Washington Square lounge (“A garden with ivy-covered walls, a chic indoor lounge and three striking dining rooms, each with high ceilings and views overlooking the lush garden.”) and then cosily settled in to watch The Apprentice . I kept complaining some more, now about my hungry stomach, it was time to see Philly night life.
What Philly night life?! Some dude told us that South Street is happenin. South Street is a dump with very uncool weirdos nursing their coke overdoses while stumbling unto each other. There was not a single decent restaurant open at 11pm. We no longer felt like we were in something that is called “city”. Persistent little munchkins that we are, we plowed to 2nd Street where you can indeed have some peace at Cuba Libre. This joint guarantees phenomenal food … “Libre’s vibrant atmosphere is filled with authentic Cuban flavor – from the re-creation of a Havana street in 1940s Cuba to the contemporary Cuban cousine”, the check arrives in a Cuban cigar box and a restless but somehow very suave host constantly makes sure you’re very happy with your food and the ambiance.
Long Thursday was gone … on Friday we wanted to see Dali’s exposition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. When we arrived a Russian lady asked us if we have any spare tickets. When I idiotically asked her “can’t we buy some at the museum?” she gave me look representing an internal question “are you completely numbnuts?”. Dali sold out until the May 16th (the extension date) and we felt like fools for not purchasing the tickets on-line and well in advance. In shame we still decided to see the museum where I got my fix of modern and impressionist art. Plenty of wonderful portraits by the Flemish and generally healthy selections of Matisse, Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir, Sargent and many more.
We headed back to NY, met friends at a lounge and went to sleep.
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