New York Twin Peaks
Lucy Shrimpton combines the heights of New York with the winter wonderland mountains upstate.
This is a feature from Issue 21 of Charitable Traveller Magazine.
Of all the descriptions of what it’s like to be atop Manhattan’s Empire State Building, Helen Keller’s, in a letter dating from 1932, has to be the most evocative ever written; quite the statement considering the author could neither see nor hear. Where I, through 2024 eyes, see an urban Everest sprawling 360 degrees – picking out Central Park, the icon of icons Lady Liberty, the poignant space in the sky where two towers once stood – Helen was no less entranced by the way her “seeing mind” perceives the city pulsating below. NYC, it seems, is a feeling.
Just as Helen was, I’m here in January, the perks of visiting right now far outweigh the fact it’s on the Arctic side of parky. There are practical gains to be had (shorter queues, for starters) along with bucket-list brags (ice skating in Bryant Park), but above all else it’s the financial wins that seal the deal: 2-for-1s on Broadway shows, steals to be had in Restaurant Week and, most significantly, cracking hotel savings. In my 36th-floor room at the fabulously located Intercontinental-Times-Square, overhanging the crawling yellow dots of cabs on Eighth, I’m sky-high in body only; in purse I’m around $150 a night more in credit than I would be on peak dates.
Heading Downtown
Look down from any of the famous observation decks atop many of the skyscrapers and you’ll soon see why the city makes a neat and navigable break. Laid out on a numbered grid, just five miles from the nail of Manhattan’s down-pointing finger up to Central Park, and with a subway even this country mouse can get to grips with, it’s viable to cover some ground in just a few days.
I invest in a CityPASS that includes access to some of the must-sees (including the Empire State Building, the Guggenheim and the Ellis Island ferry); tour a smattering of Mom-and-Pop independent stores passed from generation to generation on a Little Italy ‘hood tour; and lounge in the winter chalet ambiance of the glamorous InterContinental Barclay (just steps from Grand Central, this 1920s railroad hotel’s Penthouse recently provided the set for Succession). I wrap things up with a three-stop bar hop through Midtown Manhattan, from Rudy’s (think pitchers and free hotdogs in a dive-bar) to Woowoo (think ‘80s tunes in a saucy speakeasy) to Skylark (cocktails with a heady high view over the cinematic city). This all makes it seem pretty inconceivable that only three hours ago, I was immersed in the sensory opposite: the kind of all-American tranquil Christmas card scene that elicits wistful sighs with wreath-clad, snow-topped clapboard houses. Welcome to the Catskills – NYC’s nearest upstate mountains – and to the higher peaks of the Adirondacks to their north, where believe it or not you can ski in the morning and still squeeze in a Broadway show the same day.
Mixing It Up
The plan to spend a few days touring New York State’s mountains then a few more in the city was the two-centred trip I was after. Not the Vegas or Orlando flight tag-on that a quick Google search yielded, but instead a chance, pre-city, to see New York State’s wintry hinterlands by road trip. (They’re also reachable in part by scenic train from NYC’s Penn Station on Amtrak’s Empire or Adirondack service, which deliver you to the hubs of Hudson and Albany Rensselaer respectively.) With the newly acquired knowledge that New York State has more ski resorts than any other in the US, I first hit the slopes in the Adirondacks’ Gore Mountain resort, hot on the heels of New Yorkers nipping upstate for fixes of powder, piste and peace. Busy for sure – on account of an extra day’s holiday for Martin Luther King Day – but with four mountain peaks, 108 pistes and 14 lifts there is plenty of the white stuff to go round. Though I’m only a little beyond entry level, in imagination I am steep-slopes high with only a soundtrack of the Chipmunks singing Beyoncé jolting me back to my toddler-trail reality.
Off Into Wonderland
Twilight skiing is tempting but instead, I’m off to the whimsical and interactive outdoor spectacle that is Lake George’s ‘Winter’s Dream’, where the illusion of stepping into the pages of a kids’ fantasy book provides a unique take on winter escapism. Then 10 miles up-lake in Bolton Landing, Buffalo wings and Cape Codder cocktails draw me into the fabulous Gem smokehouse. At the vast and impressive destination hotel the Sagamore Resort, a short walk away and bed for the night, the distinctive sound of country music lures me into its bar. From the stage, lead singer Vinnie’s wholesome, homegrown twangy tones pull firmly on the heartstrings. Come morning, the frost-framed mirror of Lake George – with snowflakes over the warming pool – pulls them some more. Propelled by a Vinnie-inspired, all American-road-trip playlist, there is still time for one last hoorah before the city. Snowshoeing at the Windham Mountain Club in the Catskills provides it – a heart-pumping, life-affirming loop of crunch-on-snow – before dinner at Nat’s in Tannersville and a boutique bed next door at Hotel Lilien. While Nat brings her cool specs, Matisse-esque mural and Greenwich Village vibes to the mountain, Lilien exudes calming mid-century Danish hygge before turning it on its head with a retro jukebox and a DJ dropping in from New York’s Lower East Side. Just goes to show the mountains and Manhattan are closer than you think.
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This is a feature from Issue 21 of Charitable Traveller.
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