The Upper West Side and Beyond: How Far Would You Go?

by Yvonne Vávra

It’s one of the simplest objects in existence: a ball. Yet it has the power to unleash extraordinary drama, inspiring billions of opinions about where it should go, who should kick it, and what should have happened instead. World Cup summer in the city is about to begin, and we’re in for a spectacle.

But my personal entertainment started about a month ago, when European soccer fans reacted with outrage and disbelief to NJ Transit’s bold decision to turn a $13 train ride to MetLife Stadium into a three-digit expense. Many promptly announced that they would simply walk instead. Ten miles from Manhattan? Not so bad. Just enough to march themselves into the proper match-day mood. After all, fan marches to the stadium are a cherished soccer tradition in many countries.

I spent a few wonderful hours in forums and comment sections where Americans tried to explain to Europeans that, no, you cannot stroll along I-95 or through the Jersey marshlands. A destination worth visiting that isn’t reachable on foot? The Europeans found this absurd. The Americans found the Europeans absurd. Both sides gradually lost their minds. Meanwhile, I had a blast following arguments over whether the New Jersey Turnpike is beautiful in spring.

For those of us raised on different transportation traditions, the idea that not every place is walkable can be difficult to grasp. That’s how I once found myself dragging a suitcase through a stretch of desert between the Las Vegas airport and the Strip. I had taken the wrong bus and, seeing the lights glittering, deceptively close, I arrogantly thought I could simply walk over. So I did, a lone pedestrian, dropped into the wrong species’ habitat. And I made it.

What is walkable and what is not? Our sense of distance doesn’t always follow logic. Would you walk from 72nd Street to 96th Street? No problem. From 72nd Street to Times Square? Maybe not. That’s all the way down in Midtown! Roughly the same distance, but a completely different world. It’s emotionally remote.

What about Columbus Circle to the American Museum of Natural History? Absolutely, no questions asked. Columbus Circle to the Empire State Building? Don’t be ridiculous, that’s a train ride. Yet it’s only three blocks farther, and three tiny Midtown blocks at that.

The city exists in two dimensions: the physical one and the emotional one. We don’t experience distance in miles so much as in familiarity. The Upper West Side is home, where everything makes sense and everything feels like it’s right around the corner. Anything beyond is a whole other story, and getting there is a journey. Rockefeller Center may be no farther away than the Reservoir, but reaching it requires crossing more mental borders.

Personally, I never mind the trek. I love to walk everywhere and watch the city morph through its many different faces. Just last weekend, I set out for a simple walk to the West Side Community Garden on 89th Street. But then I thought I could pop by the Hungarian Pastry Shop at 111th, strolled a bit through Morningside Park, ended up—for reasons I can no longer trace back—in Riverbank State Park at 138th Street, which offers a great view of the Upper West Side waterfront, and finally entered the garden of the Morris-Jumel Mansion at 160th Street.

It was an unexpected amount of ground I covered that day. Quite the hike for a windy Saturday. Had I planned it in advance, I might have talked myself out of it. But the city kept giving me reasons to continue, and each interesting thing made the next one seem close. That’s how distances disappear.

There’s nothing better than losing myself in the city. Nothing else lets me think without my thoughts elbowing each other out of the way. It might not feel the same in the Jersey marshlands, but maybe some stubborn soccer fans will try and live to tell. Oh boy, they really shouldn’t.

Still, I admire the willingness to look at something everyone takes for granted and ask: Why? Why not try another way?

We’ll soon have a chance to do that ourselves. During the World Cup, a temporary soccer field will be installed in Tavern on the Green’s mostly unused parking lot near 67th Street. For a few weeks, a space reserved for cars will become a place for people. Once the tournament is over, it will likely become a parking lot again.

Why?

Yvonne Vávra is a magazine writer and author of the German book 111 Gründe New York zu lieben (111 Reasons to Love New York). Born a Berliner but an aspiring Upper West Sider since the 1990s (thanks, Nora Ephron), she came to New York in 2010 and seven years later made her Upper West Side dreams come true. She’s been obsessively walking the neighborhood ever since.

Subscribe to West Side Rag’s FREE email newsletter here. And you can Support the Rag here.