The (Extended) Family Stride – Sister’s Diary: NYC Edition, Part 1

We may have the same genes, but we vibe to very different playlists. Thankfully, New York has something for everyone, along with a few surprises that tested our patience, our navigation skills, and our middle-aged bodies.

The year was 1993. Bill Clinton had recently become the 42nd President of the United States, and we were just learning of the soon-to-be cultural icons of Snoop Dogg, Jurassic Park, and Beavis & Butthead. The setting: the floral-wallpapered bedroom of a suburban family home in Niles, California, where 10-year-old Laura and 7-year-old Barbara Ann were looking for something to occupy the time in an era when screens didn't exist to consume every moment of boredom. Kneeling around our Fisher-Price Play Tape Recorder, we captured episode one of "Sister's Diary," where we riffed on important topics ranging from our Barbies' relationships to the latest air-hockey battle for tree-house leadership. Little did we know we were early pioneers of the podcast genre.

Fast forward 33 years, and for the first time ever those same sisters spent time stepping into each other’s very different worlds as they explored the city that has something for everyone. We reprised Sisters Diary for the modern era as part of The (Extended) Family Stride, documenting our journey as fish out of water (ok if we're being honest, I was the only one out of place…NYC fit her like a glove).

We got an early start to the trip, wanting enough time for a full day of exploring but also because we were anxious to get started. We were on the 7:15AM train from New Haven to Grand Central, bleary-eyed but buzzing with Starbucks and adrenaline. By 9:30 we were stepping onto the train platform in Manhattan.

The Main Concourse at Grand Central is truly a sight to behold. Stepping around the corner out of the tunnel and taking in its scale for the first time can be breathtaking. From the architectural detail to the constellations on the ceiling, there is much to take in as long as you watch where you're standing as you gaze around the room. New Yorkers are on a mission, and no one has time for you to stop short in front of them while you gawk at the architecture.

Grand Central Main Concourse - East Balcony

Grand Central Main Concourse - West Balcony

We planned to Uber to the hotel to drop off our bags while we roamed, but after seeing a line of cabs waiting outside of the station, we decided to opt for one of the authentic city transit experiences. It was 90+ degree day, and even at that early hour the city was getting steamy. The backseat of this cab was like sitting in a Tupperware container in the Florida sun. We tried the AC but were only met with blazing hot air, and any attempts to speak to the driver were met with silence. Whether he could hear us through our hermetically sealed coffin of a backseat or not, I'm not sure, but thankfully, just when I thought I'd be sick if I didn't get some fresh air, we finally hit our destination: the Holiday Inn Express on West 29th St.

We were greeted by the sweet, dry air of a heavily air-conditioned lobby. After gulping down the complimentary waters and stashing a few for the road, we quickly checked our bags and hit the streets in search of the subway station that would take us to the American Museum of Natural History, our starting point for our trek through Central Park. We spent a few comical minutes making a complete circle around an intersection as we tried to determine which corner to enter the station from, ending up entering right at the same corner where we started that nonsense. We had a lot to learn.

I've probably made it clear by now that I am rather out of place in big cities. It's not just a matter of overstimulation for me; I'm also quite skittish in places like the subway. It helped that I didn't also have a little someone to protect, and my sister has quite a set of street smarts and edge after living and working in Hollywood for over 10 years, but admittedly my heart still pounded at several points throughout the trip. And this, our first and only subway ride of the weekend, was the worst of it.

We stepped onto the train, and after a few minutes a man clearly in need of some help started reaching out and grabbing in our direction every few minutes. There were several others around and no one else seemed fazed, so I tried to act calm, not make eye contact, and focus on Barbara. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and asked if we could look for another spot to settle on the train. As we walked by, I felt him grab for my elbow, which thankfully slipped out of his fingers. My heart was roaring. Again, no one budged. There were people sitting directly next to him who stayed put. New Yorkers have nerves of steel. I swear this place is not meant for me.

We stuck with Uber and hoofing it for the rest of the trip.

We quickly admired the subway tile work featuring the Natural History Museum and its animals before emerging roughly mid-way through the park. Our plan had been to visit Belvedere Castle, Strawberry Fields, and the Bethesda Terrace before following the Mall and Literary Walk toward the park's southeastern exit.

The Ramble had other plans for us.

By this time, the sun was blazing. After a few wrong turns we already struggled to find the castle, getting stuck on the wrong side of the Delacorte Theater. That was admittedly a welcome detour and a nice sight to add to our list, but by the time we made our way up the hill behind the theater thanks to a helpful park volunteer's direction, sweat was pouring. We grabbed a few quick pictures of the castle and stepped inside to be once again greeted with the modern blessing that was air conditioning. Little did we know how valuable this cool down would be before we made the journey south to Strawberry Fields.

There were many benches and bridges in this same style throughout the park.

Pavilion overlooking the Delacorte Theater, where they do Shakespeare in the Park

We should have guessed by the kind but wary park volunteer's reaction when we stepped out of the castle and asked how to get to our next destination. "Ah, you CAN get there from here…I suppose, when in doubt, stay to the right…"

Um. Ok.

For those unfamiliar with the geography of Central Park, nestled between Belvedere Castle and Strawberry Fields sits The Ramble: a 36-acre section of woodland, including winding paths, rustic bridges, and excellent birdwatching. The design is intentionally difficult to navigate, encouraging visitors to wander through nature.

Oak Bridge, right before we got seriously lost

Already so hot, and we had no idea the twists and turns that lay ahead

The Ramble Stone Arch, the entrance to the nonsense

By our 4th or 5th wrong turn and back-track, I started to wonder if we had somehow walked all the way back to Connecticut. The heat was becoming unbearable. I had memories of a family hike when I was in high school, where all four of us (Barbara, my parents, and me) managed to get lost in Wildwood Park near our home in California. As we walked along the chain link fence separating us from the water treatment facility that clearly was not part of the park, my father seriously questioned sending for a helicopter to airlift us out. A similar thought crossed my mind just before we finally emerged along the lake with iconic Bow Bridge in the distance. We survived, but just barely, lost a lot of time, hydration, and energy, and still had what felt like half the park to traverse.

I loved the reflection of the city off of the lake

Cool bird chilling in front of an iconic building

We managed to catch the rowboats on The Lake and the Cherry Hill Fountain, which was the model for the one in the opening of Friends. We finally made it to Strawberry Fields, where a busker played the eponymous tune, and we stopped to take several photos of a building that, I learned after the trip, was definitely NOT The Dakota. Thankfully we still got a few partial shots of the ACTUAL Dakota within the frame.

The Bethesda Terrace was blocked off for setup of a special event, but at this point, we didn't care. We wanted the comfort of an airconditioned coffee shop where we could refuel with cold brews and make a much needed pitstop. We were women on a mission from that point until the Starbucks near 58th and Madison Ave, where we promptly collapsed until the hydration and caffeine did their jobs. The only problem…no public restrooms. That would have to wait for our next stop: Rockefeller Center.

Our route to Rockefeller Center took us down the posh 5th Avenue, where we window-shopped at all of the bougie stores where a pair of shoes are the price of my monthly mortgage. I knew St. Patrick's Cathedral was somewhere in this area but am admittedly not very familiar with it. I declared as we approached the first church, we came across that I thought it might be St. Patrick's. Nope. Not even close. Two blocks later, I saw another church, roughly double in size. That must be it then, I confidently proclaimed. Nope. Not so much. Finally, when we did come upon the real deal, I realized how ridiculous it was to think that those first two were even close. St. Patrick's looked it like it was made up of both of those churches combined, plus maybe one or two others. The place is enormous.

Directly across the street we found Rockefeller Center, a massive tourist hot spot full of shops, restaurants, attractions, offices, and studios. We didn't plan to do much here aside from a little shopping in Rough Trade, a record store that's entirely Barbara's territory. Before finding it though we waited in what felt like an endless line at what must have been one of the few public restrooms before making our way through the halls toward the skating rink area. There, we saw signs for our unexpected next stop that would prove to be the most amazing antidote to the hot, overstimulating city: reSound, an immersive multisensory art experience.

Every room at reSound offers a different sensory experience, ranging from giant video screens to walls made of fur that play music as you stroke them. Roughly halfway through the exhibit, you enter a bar area where you can rest, buy drinks, and use the private restrooms. We immediately regretted waiting in the peasant line outside for so long. Shortly after that lounge you enter a theater room with giant beanbag chairs on the floor, where you can lay down and watch the show unfold on the ceiling. We couldn't believe the gift of rejuvenation we were given.

It reminded me of tree hugging in the Lorax

After emerging from quite the trippy experience, we stumbled into the blinding sun and continued our search for Rough Trade. The store is split into two separate locations: Rough Trade Above at street level, and Rough Trade Below underground near the other shops in Rockefeller Center. It's common for Below to feature artist signings and other events and today was no exception: the line of people and extra security outside informed us that Lizzo was in the store signing autographs.

We made a quick stop in the NBC shop so I could pick up an SNL mug for Sam, who's just starting to get into some age-appropriate standup and sketch comedy. After a brief perusal of the records in Rough Trade Above we headed south toward Bryant Park. Next stop: an absolute bucket-list dream of mine, the Rose Main Reading Room at the New York Public Library. If only we could have been teleported from the peaceful, creative space of reSound directly into the hallowed halls of the Stephen A. Schwarzman building without the cacophony of the city disrupting my zen in between.

Stephen A. Schwarzman building of the New York Public Library

I am a book nerd. You know how some guys travel the country trying to visit every ballpark? I collect library and bookshop experiences, and somehow this one has evaded me all my life. The travel gods smiled upon us that day as we ended up near the library close to one of their 15-minute mini-tours, which includes a stop in the popular reading room normally closed to non-patrons. I was over the moon.

We had a bit of time to kill, so we visited a special exhibit that included such gems as an original Winnie the Pooh and Friends, Charles Dickens' writing desk, and one of Thomas Jefferson's drafts of the Declaration of Independence. I soaked up every exhibit eagerly.

Early draft of the Declaration of Independence

We settled upstairs in the McGraw Rotunda waiting for our tour to start, and suddenly every part of the day hit us. Every inch of us ached. Our skin was coated in salt from the dried sweat. Every minute we waited for the tour to start felt like agony. We wanted nothing more than to be in the comfort of our hotel room.

Finally, after what felt like 3 whole business days, the tour began. And despite my complaints that all I wanted to do was step inside the reading room, I was genuinely impressed with the facts our guide shared before we entered. I loved soaking in each part of the murals depicting the story of the recorded word, ranging from stone tablets and chisels to the young man enjoying a paperback under a tree. The murals were painted by Edward Laning between 1937 and 1942 under the Works Progress Administration's Federal Art Project, which provided paying work to artists during the Great Depression.

Mural of Prometheus giving fire, representing enlightment and knowledge, to mortals. The start of the story of the recorded word.

Stepping into the reading room, I felt like I was walking into a dream, the centers of each gilded-edged ceiling downright celestial with their puffy clouds of pinks and blues. I wanted to collect a stack of books, pull up a chair and settle in for a big research project. Sadly, I had to eventually tear myself away. We made a stop in the library gift shop where Barbara got a beautiful silk scarf and I got a signed and library-stamped copy of The Lions of Fifth Avenue by Fiona Davis, a historical fiction novel split between two timelines and with literature as a central theme. It checks almost every box for me.

Remember ACTUAL encyclopedias? Thankfully Sam recognized them from school right away!

At this point we were so, so close to rest. Just an Uber ride away, and then glorious AC, comfy beds, and some much-needed R&R before our night out. But first: macarons.

Barbara had never had them before and had expressed an interest in trying some that weekend. Angelinas was so close by, just at the other end of Bryant Park, it seemed like we had to take advantage of our location. We made the one final stop, stocking up on a few different flavors each of the delicate French confections. We stepped outside and tried to find a good location for an Uber to pick us up. While getting our bearings, we could see that we'd be looking at a 15-minute trip no matter which mode of transportation: walking, Uber, or subway. We finally found a decently quiet spot for an Uber to be able to come pick us up, only for the first one to cancel our trip. Then we waited as ride after ride passed us by. Finally, out of frustration and determination to get to rest, we decided to cancel the ride and make the walk. Why were none of our modes of transportation working out for us?

After what felt like an endless grid of city blocks, we arrived back at the hotel. I believe there might have been a choir of angels singing hallelujah as we stepped into the lobby. We checked in and were pleasantly surprised to learn that my rewards membership entitled me to a hospitality box of snacks and drinks, a complimentary wine night in the lobby from 4-5 every day, and fresh baked cookies and coffee in the lobby at all times. If you're looking for a reasonably priced and well-located hotel in the city, this one is a great option.

One of my favorite moments of every trip is the click of the lock and swoosh of the door as you enter your accommodations. Maybe it's a hotel room where you, as a weary traveler, are greeted with the immediate sight of a comfy bed to collapse upon. Perhaps it's a vacation rental, with a homey entryway welcoming you in after a long journey. That single moment of every trip seems to come with 3 sounds, consistently: click, swoosh, sigh.

The sighs we emitted could have been heard across the Hudson.

As I finally rested by weary bones, a text from a few months ago came back to me. We had been going back and forth about concert options when Barbara found something she thought might work. 'I found this one if you're down to dance to some goth music...' Stay tuned for Part 2.

The (Extended) Family Stride – Sister’s Diary: NYC Edition, Part 1

Tulmeadow Trail (Or: A Lesson in Justifying Ice Cream as a Post-Hike Reward)