Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts

Sunday, April 15, 2012

New York City Hostels: The Best and Worst Budget Accommodations

By my count, I have visited New York City on overnight trips perhaps 30 times in the last 5 years...and lately, it’s been one a month. I don’t have my own place in the Big Apple, so that means I need to rent accommodations. And I have to admit, with all of the entertainment, nightlife, shows, restaurants, and events taking place in NYC, the *last* thing I want to do is blow hundreds of dollars on a room and a bed that I’m only going to use for a few hours each night – especially when a hundred dollars will buy me a show ticket or several great meals.

In all this time, I have learned that the most cost-effective way to stay right in Manhattan is to locate a good student hostel. Hostels are budget accommodations without many frills, and you share bathrooms with others on your floor. But they allow you to spend your money enjoying New York, rather than funding pricey real estate.

But I have also learned that some hostels are absolutely perfect for the budget traveler – and some are absolute horror stories. There are a number of websites that offer information about budget accommodations n New York, and even some that permit comments by visitors. Unfortunately, many of those comments are left by people who have only visited a location once, or who were unfamiliar with the concept of hostelling to begin with. Based on multiple trips to each of these hostels, I offer you my opinion of the absolute *best* - and *worst* - that New York City has to offer in accommodations.

The BEST – The Chelsea Highline Hotel (Link) at 184 11th Avenue, on the corner of West 23rd Street in the Chelsea neighborhood. Owned by Jazz Hostels, which has multiple locations, this has become my number one choice anytime I am staying in New York City. It is located across from Hudson River Park,
and is only three blocks from the C-E Subway (the “Blue”) line that runs, generally, along 8th Avenue with stops at Times Square/Port Authority, Penn Station, Central Park West, Washington Square Park, downtown Brooklyn and the World Trade Center. In essence, you can get *anywhere* in New York City with this as your base of operations. The neighborhood itself is a mix of nice residential brownstones, apartments, and an explosion of Art Galleries. Crossing overhead on West 23rd street is High Line Park, an elevated train platform that has been transformed into a walkway along Manhattan’s west side with gardens and benches. At the entrance to the High Line is the Half King Restaurant, a pleasant tavern with outdoor sidewalk seating (and a rear Garden Patio) owned by “Perfect Storm” author Sebastian Younger. Interested in a budget meal? Two blocks from the hostel, on the corner of West 23rd Street and 9th Avenue, are two diners, the Chelsea Square (my favorite) and the Moonstruck…and around the corner is Famous Ray’s Pizza, an absolute *must* for people who like their pizza slices delicious and BIG.

The Hostel itself appears to be just another undifferentiated grey-ish white apartment building from outside. But inside, one realizes one has found the best hostel in New York. The front desk staff are always attentive and as diverse as New York City itself. They are always pleasant and helpful. The small lobby has free wireless access if you bring your laptop, and in the mornings the hostel provides bagels and coffee gratis. (OK, I have to admit, the bagels were not classic NY bagels, and there was no cream cheese, and they offered powdered creamer instead of milk, so I didn’t really partake – but it is an amenity that most hostels do not offer at all.)

The rooms are located on the second, third, and fourth floors; I have been in nine of them on all three floors (picture at the top of this post).

The rooms are the largest I have ever experienced in a NYC hostel. The paint is fresh and neutral-colored. Each room has a sink/vanity/mirror, and new furniture that includes beds, night stands, rugs, a stool or chair, and some paintings. And amazingly, they all match, as if someone actually put some thought into making the guests’ stay pleasant. Double rooms (for couples) feature single, low platform beds or twin beds; “Family” rooms feature one queen bed and a bunk bed. The so-called “Family Rooms” are as roomy as a hostel gets; I have brought student groups to this hostel and four people can actually live in one room without tripping over each other. Doors close soundly and lock securely with no ‘gaps’ that characterize other hostels, and the rooms are pretty much soundproof. I have never been awakened by noise from other rooms.

The bathrooms are small “one-seaters,” located three to a floor. They are bright, clean, and newly-tiled, with efficient shelves to hold soap or shampoo, and hot water that actually works.

And unique to the Chelsea Highline: there is actually housekeeping service! Yes, someone comes in and makes your bed and empties your trash.

What would you pay for a night in NYC like this? If you like to be pampered at a hotel, a couple will easily spend between $200 and $400/night. The Chelsea Highline? Try $100 per night for a private double, or as little as $135 for a family room that sleeps four. And since the charges are based on the room, not the number of people, that means 4 friends can share a Family Room for about $35/night (plus NYC room taxes.)

As I said, I have *never* had a bad experience at the Chelsea (and I promise, the fact that my two favorite NYC nightspots – the Rawhide and the Eagle – are both within an easy 5 minute walking distance had nothing to do with my positive review. But of course, it doesn’t hurt either!)

The WORST – The Bowery’s Whitehouse Hotel, at 340 Bowery, between East 2nd (also called “Bond Street”) and East 3rd Street (also known as “Great Jones Street”). I will not even give you their web address: I do not want to be responsible for ever sending anyone to this house of horrors.

I will say this: if you are looking for the excitement, nightlife, and bohemian atmosphere of the East Village, the location of this hostel is unbeatable. The website makes it look like a pleasant stay, with subway access, on the funky east side. I beg of you – do not be deceived. It is beyond comprehension that the City of New York – which comes down hard on hostels – allows this place to exist.

I have stayed here on multiple occasions for a few reasons: first, the location really is fantastic; I can never believe that it could actually be so horrible every time, so I try it again; and, most often, I have stayed here because every other hostel in NYC was booked full. I will never do that again.

The Whitehouse is designed more like a homeless shelter than a hostel.

You may not take your key when you leave the hostel – it must be handed back in to the staff at the front desk. The staff may or may not be there when you return, or may be arguing with someone on the phone, and you may have to wait to get into your “room.”

I wrote “room” in quotes, because in actuality, there are no rooms. They have simply erected ‘partitions’ to divide each floor into units, slapping lime green and other cast-off paint colors on them. The partitions do not reach the ceiling: your ‘ceiling’ is a lattice work (with spaces large enough for you to stick your head – or entire body – through). That means that there is no quiet at all, because there is no ceiling blocking noise form the next unit. On multiple occasions we were awake for hours because we could hear every conversation taking place on the floor – even when people whispered.

The units are literally only large enough to fit a bed: you open your door, and there is about 10 square feet of floor space, and a bed fit into the unit and surrounded by partition walls on three sides. There are no sinks, no electric outlets (although there were exposed and capped wires dangling in the last unit I stayed in). The doors do not close completely flush: there are cracks and holes through which any passer-by can peer in.

Like the rooming units, the shower doors are broken and gaping. The first time I turned on a shower, the handle was improperly fitted against the broken tiling and I sliced open my knuckles. Long hair was wound around the shower curtain holders, and the water drained away from the drain flooding the floor and making it slimy.

The pipes are in need of serious repair. Hot water in the shower is a luxury; but as it courses through the building’s heating system, it bangs so loudly that the floor literally vibrates throughout the building. On my last night there, one toilet on the floor above us clogged and overflowed continuously; it completely drenched one neighboring unit, as the toilet water splashed on several more of us.

There is no wifi, breakfast, or amenities. Instead, the Whitehouse actually scams guests to hold on to funds. All guests are required to not only pay, but to put additional charges (an extra night) on their credit card as a “hold” against damages (how in the WORLD they would ever know how a room was damaged is beyond me, given their poor condition). When I checked out, I was told that the “hold” would take 10 days to clear, which is total nonsense. The desk clerk rolled her eyes at me when I objected, and insisted that this is their bank’s procedure and they couldn't change it. That, of course, is absolutely bogus. I launched into a speech about how I had paid several hundred dollars and was unable to sleep at all for two nights in a row and that the City Consumer Affairs Office was going to hear about this scam of my debit card. The ten-day hold (which was supposedly their ‘bank’s procedure”) on my debt card was suddenly lifted by the next day.

The Bowery’s Whitehouse entices unsuspecting travelers with nice pictures, a good website, a fantastic location, and available ‘rooms’ (for good reason!) – and then traps people in units with no room, no amenities, no ability to engage in peaceful sleep, and additional charges that normally stay on your card for 10 days.

If you’re thinking of staying here – don’t. Run. Far. Quickly.


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Friday, November 04, 2011

Onsite at #OccupyWallStreet: 10 Myths Debunked



Over 35 years ago, Jerry Mander wrote a landmark book titled, “Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television.” One of those arguments was that with TV, the media now had the power to edit the variety of pictures they showed to the public, thus enabling them to create whatever ‘story’ they wanted based on what they chose to show.

Today, my partner and I finally got to Zuccotti Park in lower Manhattan and joined in the Occupy Wall Street encampment. And I have to admit that what I saw was not at all what I had read or seen in the media reports. Thus, my post today is meant to debunk some of the myths I have heard over and over.

Myth #1: The Protesters have ‘taken over’ Manhattan’s Financial District and are interrupting and burdening normal activities.

Wrong. OWS “occupiers” are compactly situated in Zuccotti Park, a plaza about two short blocks north of Wall Street. It is plaza that is normally “occupied” by the public. For the last eight years I have taken student groups to Manhattan, and each year we have had lunch at the plaza. The sidewalks surrounding the plaza are clear, and there is no interruption of vehicular or pedestrian traffic. From as close as one block away, we had no idea that anything unusual was taking place.

Myth #2: OWS is destroying the “park.”

Those unfamiliar with the park may incorrectly imagine this to be a grassy oasis in the midst of lower Manhattan. But there is not a blade of grass in the ‘park’ – it is a 100% paved plaza. The tents that have been erected are not compacting soil, killing vegetation, or being secured into the ground with pegs; rather, they are simply weighted down by their contents on the pavement. The Occupiers have taken great care to protect a planter of flowers and the small locust trees that have been planted around the plaza.

Myth #3: These protesters are just a bunch of spoiled young brats.

No, actually the group is as amazingly diverse as New York City and America are. Occupants are black, white, asian, and latino. They are students, war veterans (actually, veterans are present in significant numbers), grandmas knitting in chairs, economists in ties & suit jackets, middle –aged laborers, and senior citizens. My favorite sign, held by one middle-aged man with a great sense of humor, read, “Another green-haired, deer-hunting, real estate developer in support of OWS.”

Myth #4: They may be diverse, but they’re simply whiners looking for handouts.

No, these people are heroes. With temperatures falling below 40 and wind whipping through lower Manhattan, it is very cold right now. It is also very cramped: with over 100 tents squeezed together, occupiers barely have room to stretch out. They lack most of the creature comforts that the majority of us take for granted and go home to each night, without complaint. Rather than whining, these people are enduring hardship for all of us – hardship that many Wall Street Executives have never experienced.

Myth #5: OWS has no clear focus or message.

Nonsense. The diverse interests that make up OWS have a consistent thread: – opposition to corporate domination of the American political system. This opposition manifests itself in various ways: opposition to fracking, nuclear power, and the Keystone pipeline; indictments of corporate refusals to hire veterans; student loan burdens, and the exclusion of such loans in bankruptcy proceedings; the imprisonment of Bradley Manning; the Citizens United Court ruling; the irony of lower wages in a time of higher corporate profits; and the capture of both major political parties by corporate donors. Diverse causes, yes…but all undergirded by the influence of large corporations in government decisions.

Myth #6: OWS is disorganized and aimless.

A mere walk through the Occupy Camp shows an incredible amount of organization: there is a large lending library, a medical tent, a welcome table, a press tent, on-site legal assistance, scheduled teach-ins, addiction assistance, a food tent, a sanitation crew, and an energy operation. OWS has managed to create a voluntary, need-based, consensus-embraced camp, in spite of Mayor Bloomberg’s cutting them off from heat & energy sources and sanitary facilities.

Disorganized? Lacking electricity, OWS participants are peddling used, stationery bicycles to create electricity that is being stored in car batteries to continue their computer feeds – an effort in which your Blogger participated. This is impressive creativity, not disorganization.

Myth #7: OWS is hurting New York’s image and its economy.

First of all, the exercise of Constitutional Rights is not subject to image niceties. However, it is fair to say that not only is OWS not hurting New York’s image and economy – it has become a tourist attraction in and of itself. Located in the shadow of the newly-rising World Trade Center Building #1, tourists ringed Zuccotti Park the entire time I was there, snapping pictures, taking videos, speaking with Occupiers. The mobile food carts that have always been located on the south edge of the park remain there and are thriving….as are an increased number of street vendors that are set up across the street on the east side of Broadway.

Myth #8: These people are really anti-capitalist Communists.

To be sure, there are some Occupiers sporting Che Guevara signs and anti-capitalist slogans. There are also a number selling t-shirts, pins, souvenirs, and even refrigerator magnets. More than anti-capitalist (many of them are engaging in entrepreneurial activities), they are anti-corporatist, pro democracy, and promoting new approaches to wealth disparity. More than anything, they value social responsibility and paying a laborer what he or she is worth – a very American principle that has been sorely upended in the last two decades.

Myth #9: The Occupation has become unsanitary and a health hazard.

There’s no doubt that Zuccotti Park is messy & cramped – though hardly more cramped than some 6 x 10 student hostel rooms I’ve stayed in. And tents and canvas and signs and wind and a “camping” situation that is now 6 weeks old will not look like Martha Stewart’s living room. But “Unsanitary?” No. OWS has instituted recycling, composting, and its own “Sanitation Department,” complete with cleansing agents, brooms, and a garbage collection squad. On each side of the Park, very large “Good Neighbor Policy” signs are posted, clearly spelling out behavioral expectations. Considering it is the City of New York that blocked the delivery of port-a-potties (Bette Midler offered to pay for them), it is rather disingenuous of them to then suggest that the plaza is ‘unsanitary.’ (Ironically, *this afternoon* it was announced that port-a-potties will be located on the loading dock of the United Teacher’s Federation building, about two blocks away)

Myth #10: Crimes are going unreported (said Bloomberg today), and it is a lawless community.

I just have to laugh at this one. Police cars, trucks and at least one Police Tower are parked side-by-side along the north side of the park. TV trucks, with cameras looking down from twenty-foot-high booms, line the south side. Police stand on the sidewalks on all sides. There are more police at Zuccotti Park per square foot than in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot. To suggest that Zuccotti Park is crime-ridden in the face of the videos, cameras, cell phones, TV crews, and round-the-clock police presence, would tell us more about the ineffectiveness of the NYPD than about the Occupiers.

Friday, September 09, 2011

10 years after 9/11 - My Love Affair with New York City

In 1642, a Dutch ship owner named Bastiaen Van Kortrijk carried a group of settlers to the newly-found colony of Nieuw-Amsterdam. In return for helping to populate the new colony, he was awarded a land grant (or Manor) in what is today called “The Bronx.” His descendents would marry into the Corsa (or Corszen, or DeCoursey) family, who would occupy that land until after the American Revolution, when it was divided and sold off to pay debts (today these lands are better known as Fordham University, the Bronx Botanical Gardens, and the Bronx Zoo.)

The early days of New Amsterdam reflected a spirit of tolerance and diversity that was ground-breaking for its day. Within a decade of its founding, 18 different languages were being spoken in New Amsterdam. The Dutch, in fact, were a minority in their own colony, as Portuguese, free Africans, Germans, French, English, Swedes, Hispanics, native West Indians and Brazilians, Poles, and Bohemians settled the Colony...a far cry from modern nativist cries for an “English-Only!” country. Unlike the strict religious codes of Puritan New England, New Amsterdam guaranteed religious freedom for all, making it a favored destination for immigrating Jews and Quakers. And while the British Crown was guaranteeing a monopoly on all trans-Atlantic Trade for the British East India Company, free global trade was the norm for companies in New Amsterdam.

It’s no wonder that New York Times editorialist Russell Shorto called the people of New Amsterdam, the “UnPilgrims.” Tolerant, diverse, liberal, and commerce-oriented, these people were the founders of New York City…and are the deepest roots of my own family tree.

The Van Kortrijk - Corsa family and their descendents would live though more than 350 years of New York history. They would serve as local guides in George Washington’s army, as the first lithographers at South Street Seaport during the Civil War, and as blacksmiths on the Hyde Park Vanderbilt estate. Three centuries after landing on New York’s shore, my father would be born – where else, but in New York City. He would marry into another local New York family that had, in part, made its mark operating speakeasies during Prohibition – The Riviera, The Chop House, the Lafayette Grill – on Long Island’s south shore in the City of Long Beach. I would be raised not far from there, in Baldwin Harbor, growing up close to the bays and clam flats at a time when living near the canals meant you were on ‘the wrong side of the tracks.’ Accordingly, we were known as “Harbor Rats” and “Clamdiggers.”

One of the most enduring institutions on Long Island – the center of our social circle – were the volunteer Fire Departments. My great-grandfather would serve as Chief of Long Beach; my grandfather, Captain of Hose Company #1 in Baldwin; and my father, as Chief. My Uncle would follow him as Chief, and my cousin remains, to this day, an EMT in Brooklyn. The calendar of our lives was comprised of Parades (My sister and I were both in the Fire Department Drum & Bugle Corps), Tournaments, Department picnics and Christmas parties and installation dinners – and punctuated by the anguish of knowing that loved ones were in the middle of buildings aflame almost every day of the year. The sound of the fire alarm put us all on edge in a way that is hard to convey to those who have not lived with the daily risks to a firefighter’s life.

And so it is in that life-context that I watched in horror as the World Trade Center, one of the iconic symbols of New York City, began collapsing on itself – and on the firefighters and fellow New Yorkers trapped inside.

As one of my friends so poignantly reflected some weeks later in a letter, “Not a single neighborhood on Long Island has been untouched.” My best childhood friend would recount to me the horror of running through lower Manhattan – having been late for his appointment at the World Trade Center – as parts of bodies landed around him and on him. My brother-in-laws' (Bill) family, all New York City residents and workers, would take various routes home, including joining thousands walking over the Brooklyn Bridge. Bill, a hospital administrator, was supposed to be in New York City going over architectural plans...but to quote my sister, "..someone called to tell us Bill was back in the hospital preparing for what would never come---survivors." My cousin, the EMT, would lose six men from his company when the South Tower came down.

And I would stand with fellow New York natives where I worked, and watch, and feel helpless.

In the 10 years since that day, I figure that I have been back to NYC perhaps some 50 or 60 times. Each time, as I approach, I get a bit more animated, talk a little bit faster, and smile a little more broadly. Wo-Hops in Chinatown, concerts in Central Park, Ty's and Rockbar in The Village, Sici's in Soho, the pace of the Financial District, The Eagle in Chelsea, student hostels in Morningside Heights, Conways in the Garment District, Shows and Bubba Gumps in the Theater District, my old office and Saturday Night Live studios in Rockefeller Center, The Boilerroom and funky vintage shops of the Lower East Side & Alphabet City, taking in the Cloisters at Fort Tryon Park, outside dining and Tiramisu in Little Italy...and pizza everywhere. I can't get enough.

And in those 10 years, I have been back to Ground Zero at least half a dozen times. I cry each time, without fail, and I do not expect that will ever change. Actually, I do more than cry - I fall apart. Yes, it was an attack on the United States, on western civilization, on capitalism, and on freedom. But for me, it was more than that.

It was an attack on MY city. MY home. MY family. Almost 400 years of MY ancestor’s footprints on a city that outshines every other city in the world in its energy, its excellence, its diversity, its drive.

And while others felt they needed to flee New York in the aftermath of 9/11, I had the opposite reaction. Everything in me screamed, No one can f*ck with my city like that and get away with it.!”

I may be currently living in New England, but I am wrapping that up. Someday – soon - I WILL return to my Home.

As Daddy Warbucks sings in “Annie,”

“What is it about you?
You're big - You're loud - You're tough
N.Y.C. - I go years without you
Then I can't get Enough!

Enough of the cab drivers answering back
In the language far from pure
Enough of frankfurters answering back
Brother, you know you're in NYC…

Too busy, Too crazy…
Too hot, Too cold, Too late, I'm sold
Again, On NYC

….Oh NYC
You make 'em all postcards
You crowd, You cramp…You're still the champ
Amen For NYC

The shimmer of Times Square
The pulse, The beat, The drive!

….Oh, NYC
The whole world keeps coming
By bus, By train, You can't explain
Their yen for NYC

NYC
You're standing room only
You crowd, You cramp
You're still the champ
Amen For NYC