The prospect of visiting New York has always scared me. And, no, it wasn’t a fear of being mugged, but because New York just seems to be so... Much. But I have done well in other large cities such as Los Angeles and Chicago, so I decided that I needed to give the U.S.’s largest city a shot.

In 2000, I was in New York my one and only time. It was just for a couple of hours at LaGuardia, but it followed a spectacular approach over Manhattan and the World Trade Center. At least I got to see them once in my life.

More research and planning went on for this trip than any other I had previously taken. And this one needed it. I would only have a few hours to see everything (at least in my opinion) worth seeing. Add to that the recent loss of daylight savings time. Sunset was earlier, limiting me even more. Nonetheless, I was very excited.

By the way, on this trip all of that planning went out of the window.

First, after a couple of delays, I arrived at LaGuardia a little later than planned. But that was all right. I walked out of the terminal to be greeted by a bright sun swimming in a sea of blue sky. The temperature was a little on the cool side, but I expected that. I made my way to the bus stop right outside of baggage claim to make my way into the city.

I was planning on paying for my bus trip full fare then purchasing a seven dollar FunPass MetroCard (a day pass) at the first subway station. But I saw that the buses did not accept paper currency, so I rushed back into the terminal to try and get change.

I met a ground transportation rep there who told me that I could actually get a FunPass at the next terminal. I rushed over and did just that. It wasn’t too long of a wait at the next bus stop until the M60 bus showed up. I was on my way.

The bus was clean, but the ride slow and bumpy. We passed a couple of sketchy looking neighborhoods, but I still felt safe among the uniquely accented New York locals. After about twenty minutes, we arrived at the Astoria Blvd Station where I would catch the Q Train into Manhattan.

The train was elevated through Queens, affording some excellent view of the borough’s neighborhoods and the approaching Manhattan skyline. Before hitting the East River, we descended underground for a noisy and rather smelly entrance onto the island.

I had decided on the way in not to hit Midtown first, but to move it to last. Dark would be coming early and I figured that Times Square would be best photographed at night. I hoped that was the case.

I was planning on exiting at the Cortlandt Street Station, but something happened. I didn’t notice that the Q Train was scheduled to go east through Chinatown, further from my desired destination. I caught the mistake early, exited at the next stop (Canal Street) and decided to go above ground to see what was there.

I was just outside of Chinatown on Lafayette. I started walking south on the thoroughfare as the buildings rose higher and higher around me. I think I was looking up more often than in front which, when mixed with New York’s very aggressive drivers, is not a good thing.

Near City Hall, I saw another subway station. Wanting to save time, I decided to board another train. So I took the #5 Train down to the Wall Street Station to be closer to my first important destination- the World Trade Center site.

I rose above ground and saw that the site was immediately to my left, along with hordes of people and street vendors selling memorabilia. I walked west toward the very noticeable open space among the dense skyscrapers. A pavilion was being built to house viewers while most of the site was guarded. But, beyond the fence, the cavernous opening where so much tragedy took place was plainly visible. I noticed that it was relatively quiet for a place where so many people were gathered. There was an aura to the area- a tragic one, albeit- but also one of strength and perseverance. It was here where the people of New York really showed their heart and strength.

I walked away from the site and toward Battery Park on the southern tip of the island, but all of the emotion I felt just standing in a place where so much senseless tragedy took place stuck with me the rest of the day.

Battery Park is a place where locals relax, where street performers share their talents and where tourists gather to board ferries to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. I just enjoyed the views of the New York Harbor reflecting the low autumn sun.

I started back up Water Street to my final lower Manhattan destination- the famous financial center of the world- Wall Street.

I passed a variety of interesting architecture before turning to the west on the famous street. It was surrounded by a wall of buildings (perhaps that is how it got its name) while the street itself was quite narrow and mainly unused. But the highlight of Wall Street, I thought, was the people. I wondered how many around me woke up that day nothing and were now millionaires, while I was careful lest any of the vice-versa's threw themselves from one of the upper windows onto Wall Street.

At the Wall Street Station, I boarded the #1 Train and headed north to Greenwich Village.

I got off at the Christopher Street Station, one of the nicer stations that I had seen in the system thus far. Greenwich Village is an area of quaint buildings and irregular streets. And that was very much the case. At street level, I had lost all sense of direction. It took me about five minutes to figure out where to go.

First, I crossed a very busy Seventh Avenue and found myself at Sheridan Square, home of the riots at the Stonewall Inn and Christopher Park, home of the Gay Pride Statues. I kept west under the large canopy of the trees until I reached the intersection of Gay and Christopher. There I crossed the street and began walking east.

On Christopher Street west of Seventh there were more neighborhood bars and stores sitting next to upscale hotels and restaurants, all topped with loft apartments whose residents I envied. The village was everything and more than I had seen in just about every coming-out short story.

I turned north at Hudson where, almost immediately, I hopped on the #20 bus. I rode north up through Eighth Avenue and into the Chelsea neighborhood. At 14th Street, I exited the bus and began walking north on Eighth.

The gay community in Manhattan seems to have outgrown Greenwich Village with many now making their homes in Chelsea. Along Eighth is a mixture of gay owned and gay friendly businesses of every type. Eighth Avenue is a busier thoroughfare than Christopher Street, so Chelsea had a much more fast-paced feel to it. But it was still inviting with its own distinct character.

I had originally planned at this point to take the L Train to the East Village, but the sun was getting lower in the sky and I still had a lot to see and do. So, I put the East Village plans away for a later trip. Instead, at the 23rd Street Station I took the A Train north toward the Upper West Side and Central Park.

I decided on the train, as it filled with the city’s growing rush hour traffic, that I would probably have to cut the Upper West Side in order to do a really good walk around Midtown. So I exited at the 59th Street/Columbus Circle Station and walked to the surface at Central Park South.

I walked along the southern fringes of the famous park in the shadow of Midtown’s many skyscrapers. At Seventh, I walked two blocks south and walked past Carnegie Hall. Then a quick walk to the north on Sixth brought me back to the park near the pond just outside of the Central Park Zoo.

Famed Fifth Avenue was at the southeastern corner of the park where droves of people were gathered for a horse drawn carriage through the park or to watch one of the many street performers. The sky had turned darker and cloudy as the leaves of the many trees rustled in the wind. The lights on the cars and on the streets glowed in the sky. It felt like Christmas had come early.

To save time, I caught the #4 bus and rode it south to the Rockefeller Center. I walked west on the northern edge of the center to stop at Radio City Music Hall. I then walked south on the plaza bisecting the center next to the famous outdoor ice rink. The view of ice skaters under a darkened sky with colorful lights shining in the background just solidified that feeling of Christmas. I was looking for a Santa’s lap to sit on.

After Rockefeller Center, I returned to Fifth and caught the #2 bus southbound. I rode it to 34th, just in the shadow of the Empire State Building. I walked to the south of the tower to an entrance and lobby that looked like something out of Superman. I considered taking a tour to the observation deck, but the line was so long there was really no time. So I left the tower and continued west, every so often turning to look at the famous old building that, by misfortune, had retaken it’s position as the city’s tallest building.

With the Empire State Building behind me, I found myself on Broadway. The street runs diagonally, an anomaly in a neighborhood of perfect right angles and uniform blocks. The buildings along Broadway were just as varied. I passed the Macy’s department store just as darkness took over. Then, only a few blocks ahead of me, I could see them- the lights of Times Square.

I am one who avoids kitsch and tourist traps like the plague. But there are some places in this world, although kitschy and touristy, that are just so cool that they have to be seen. One is Las Vegas’s famous strip. The other is Times Square.

Times Square is crowded, full of shady street vendors and is an example of corporate advertising at it’s worst. But the jumbo-tron screens and flickering lights seemed to hold everyone at their attention. Even me. It was very effective advertising. Albeit, loud, bright, expensive and obtrusive, but also mesmerizing and cool. I was hypnotized by a two story Shrek and the rolling, waving news tickers. It was so much fodder for the senses it was almost overwhelming. Effective, indeed.

Finding the Times Square Station was a chore, but a police officer was more than helpful in showing me the way. The Times Square Station is pretty representative of the New York subway system as a whole. It was cramped, crowded, dirty, confusing, hard to get around but very convenient with lots of choices.

I finally found the #7 Train platform where an express to downtown Flushing was waiting. I hopped on, along with a standing room only quantity of New Yorkers, and left the big city. I exited at the Shea Stadium Station before catching the Q48 bus back to LaGuardia.

The city glowed beneath me as we rose from LaGuardia’s runways. I stared in awe at them; they never seemed to end. Then we entered one of the clouds that had lowered itself over the city. And in a second New York was gone.