I just returned from a whirlwind business trip to New York: 24 hours of back-to-back meetings and appointments in the name of commerce, with just a few of those hours allotted for sleep.
I've probably traveled to Manhattan 15 times or so since I was a kid, and I can never get enough of the place. As a first-time visitor at the age of 8, I sensed the city's intensity and frenetic speed. Later, in my 20s and beyond, I set out to explore Manhattan's unique neighborhoods, its bars and bookstores, the dark and foreboding subways, the ubiquitous musical and literary history, the world's coolest skyscrapers.
This week's trip was all too brief and focused on work, although my colleagues and I did manage to squeeze in a couple of nice meals and a late-night excursion out of Midtown into the colorful world of Greenwich Village. The trouble with traveling to New York for business is that you're keenly aware of the limitless possibilities of the city, the extraordinary options for fun and excitement, yet are bound to the task at hand. Heading to the airport so soon after arriving, it's hard not to feel just a bit cheated.