Last May, I found myself alone for a week in Boston. My roommates were away visiting their families, leaving me with the apartment to myself. Since the age of three, I’ve always shared my living space with others—growing up, I shared a room with my brother, and when I moved to Boston in 2021, I started living with roommates. Over the years, the living arrangements have changed, but I've rarely had the chance to live on my own. That week made me realize how isolating it can feel. After just two days of having nothing much to do at home, I was desperate for something to occupy my time. I had already watched at least ten movies and meticulously organized my room. One late night, while eating cereal and watching Casey Neistat videos, I felt a sudden urge for adventure. I looked up the next bus to New York City, and after realizing I had enough time to get from Beacon Hill to Cambridge, I impulsively bought a ticket. I grabbed some clothes and my camera, and by 11:00 P.M., I was on my way to the bus station to catch a ride leaving around 1:00 A.M.

On my way to the bus station, I couldn’t help but think, "What on earth are you doing?" But I was also filled with excitement about visiting NYC. When I arrived, the station felt dark and sketchy—it didn’t even seem like the right place since it was just a random street in the middle of nowhere. I waited patiently, and eventually, people began to trickle in, followed by the bus. I found myself wondering what brought all these people to NYC at 1:00 A.M. Were they traveling? Working? Maybe nomads headed to their next stop? After musing over these thoughts, I boarded the bus and left Boston. I tried to sleep, but the bus wasn’t exactly comfortable. We made a stop in New Haven, Connecticut, and that’s when I finally drifted off. When I woke up, we had arrived at Grand Station, right next to Madison Square Garden.

NYC Architecture

I’ve always been amazed by the variety of architecture found in NYC

I arrived at around 6:30 A.M it was quite rainy, and to my surprise the city that never sleeps was very much asleep. I tried to find a decent place to get breakfast, or at least a coffee, but everything was closed with the exception of very doubtful places, so I started walking down towards Broadway, I wanted to make a quick visit to 368 Broadway to get inspired knowing all of the great content that has been produced in that building. Walking NYC in the morning was a very interesting experience, to see how the city starts waking up, and how everyone has somewhere to go. It was amazing to see.

Soon after I captured the picture at 368, it started raining. I decided to head south towards Brooklyn Bridge. I’ve been to NYC a few times but for some reason I had never been to the iconic bridge, so I decided to walk in the rain listening to some NYC music, heading south through the city that was starting to wake up. I’ve found that NYC can be what you want it to be. As I walked through the nice neighborhoods of Queens, SoHo, and surroundings, I started asking myself as most of the tourist’s that walk there, if I should move there, and try to make it there.

Walking through the Brooklyn Bridge under the rain.

I finally made it to the Brooklyn Bridge and began walking across it. I was amazed by its size, and since it was my first time walking through it, the experience felt exhilarating. As I continued and got soaking wet, I found myself reflecting on my place in time. This seems like the perfect spot for anyone grappling with an existential crisis. Looking at all the buildings, I thought about how each one was conceived—not just by the workers who built them, but by the dreamers behind them. People, much like me, had dreams, visions, and human minds. They turned their wildest aspirations into reality. It’s incredible to see such tangible examples of human desire, dreams and achievement.

**Tangible examples of human desire, dreams and achievement.**

After crossing the bridge, I made my way to the Brooklyn Museum, excited to visit the Paul McCartney photography exhibit. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been in love with The Beatles—they’ve shaped who I am and have deeply influenced my work. The exhibit, Paul McCartney Photographs 1963–64: Eyes of the Storm, featured his private photographs from the height of Beatlemania, including their first trip to the U.S.

After buying my ticket, I took my time admiring the collection. As I was wandering through, a man approached me and asked about my camera. He had long white hair that framed his face like a rockstar from a different era and wore a military-style jacket, adding to his almost mythical presence. There was something about him—a unique energy that filled the room, as if he had a lifetime of stories waiting to be told.

He mentioned that he used to have the same camera back in the day and was surprised to see young people still using film. He showed me a newer version of the camera he owned, and we got to talking about The Beatles. Turns out, he was also a musician—and, as he casually mentioned, quite famous in South Korea.

One of his friends shared a story about attending The Beatles' legendary Shea Stadium concert and reminisced about being on television in his youth, running onto the field when the Yankees won a World Series, with police chasing after him. I remember thinking, Only in NYC.

I kindly asked if I could take his portrait, and he agreed, sharing his email before we parted ways to continue exploring the exhibit at our own pace. Later, I learned that his wife had passed away just a month after the photo was taken, making me reflect on the unexpected lessons we can gain from the strangers we encounter each day. One thing about NYC is that you never know who you’ll meet—and that unpredictability is one of the city's most exciting aspects.

**Hahn Dae-soo & a self-portrait of Sir Paul Mccartney**

After leaving the museum, I headed to one of my favorite spots in NYC—Front General Store. It’s a must-visit for me because it’s where I get the pen I use for my journal. From there, I wandered through Brooklyn, a place that holds a special meaning for me. The first time I ever visited New York, I stayed in a small Brooklyn apartment with my grandfather and brother. We were in town before driving to Boston to tour schools, and my aunt had recommended a one-room apartment for our stay. My grandfather took the bedroom, leaving my brother and me to battle over the couch. I lost, which meant sleeping on the floor—but with the heatwave that week, the cool floor actually felt like a relief.

After strolling through Brooklyn, I hopped on the subway and headed toward Central Park for a bite to eat.

I headed to one of my favorite spots in NYC, Trattoria Dell’Arte, located at 900 7th Ave. I never remember the exact address, but I always make my way to Central Park, ask for Carnegie Hall, and find it right across the street. The restaurant has a warm, inviting atmosphere, with dim lighting, red leather booths, and walls adorned with oversized sketches of faces, giving it a distinct artistic charm. The smell of freshly baked pizza and garlic fills the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. I keep coming back for their amazing pizza—it’s become a must-visit every time I’m in town.

By the time I arrived, I was exhausted, and my phone was nearly out of battery. I politely asked the waiter if I could charge it while I ate, which gave me the rare chance to enjoy my meal without any digital distractions. If there’s one thing the reader will come to notice through my stories, it’s that I often find myself dining alone. Some might think that’s sad, but I’ve come to see it as a kind of therapy. Sitting there, watching people pass by, I like to imagine their lives—creating backstories for strangers, sketching out characters that sometimes make their way into songs I write, even if they never get released.

After dinner, I made my way to Central Park for a walk. I love wandering through nature, losing myself for a moment, and briefly forgetting that I’m surrounded by a concrete jungle. I watched the horses pulling carriages, observed the mist hovering over the skyscrapers of Billionaire’s Row, and took a short rest on a bench.

Eventually, I started making my way toward my least favorite spot in NYC: Times Square. I went there for one reason—I had a single shot left on my film roll, and I thought, Well, you have to take at least one picture there. It’s a must.

Walking through NYC in early summer can be a nightmare, especially when the rain clears and the streets fill up again. Pushing through the crowds, I finally made it and captured the last shot on my roll.

After capturing my final shot, I decided it was time to say goodbye to the city. I made my way back to Madison Square Garden in search of the bus station, feeling a strange sensation in my chest—a mix of relief that the adventure had gone smoothly and the quiet satisfaction of completing a journey. If I place my hand on my chest, I know that deep down, I prefer adventures that take me into nature—mountains, lakes, and open landscapes. But there’s something about an impromptu city adventure, born out of spontaneity, that always wins me over.

There’s a thrill in making a split-second decision to visit a place you rarely go, in finally tackling the little quests that have lingered in the back of your mind for ages. I think every student living in Boston can relate—at some point, we all get the idea to take a random trip to NYC. It’s close, accessible, and almost feels like an unspoken rite of passage.

But something I’ve come to realize, and what will likely become a recurring theme in my travels, is how much expectation I place on a new location before I even set foot there. I look at a map and imagine all the places I’ll go, the cafés I’ll visit, the museums I’ll explore, the weekend trips I’ll take. Yet, as time passes, I find myself realizing that I never actually went to that café, never made that beach trip, never visited that small town or mountain I once dreamed about.

So to anyone in a similar situation, I say—just go. Say fuck it every once in a while, head out without a plan, and figure it out as you go. The experience, in my opinion, is always worth it.

I hope you enjoyed this little story. To set the mood, I put together a playlist featuring music inspired by NYC. All of the photos were shot on 35mm film. If you're interested in helping me out you may buy film for your self with this link, for prints, feel free to reach out at: mrjoeycamps@gmail.com.

Until the next adventure

- Joey