Trying to follow Broadway back to its beginnings, you’d find yourself tracing a much older path: the Wickquasgeck Trail, a route carved into Manhattan in the times of New Amsterdam, long before New York dreamed of skyscrapers or neon marquees... That trail stretched up the island like a wandering spine, and when the Dutch arrived, they simply widened it and gave it a new name: Heeren (or “Gentlemen’s”) Way. The British, who arrived later, noticing how wide the street really was, promptly declared it Broadway—a name that clearly stuck.

Today’s Broadway runs a lot farther than its original ancestor. It launches from Bowling Green at Manhattan’s southern tip, slips through the boroughs, wanders into Westchester County, and keeps going until it reaches Sleepy Hollow. If you’re searching for New York’s oldest continuous street, this is the one.

Jump to 1907, when part of Broadway—stretching from Times Square to Sherman Square—earned a new identity as Automobile Row. Car dealerships, repair shops, and glittering showrooms lined both sides, turning the street into a motor-age catwalk. Over time, the traffic patterns tightened, and Broadway became mainly a one-way river of cars.

In recent decades, though, the city has rewritten Broadway’s script. Cars have gradually ceded space to people, and sections of the street have transformed into pedestrian plazas, pocket parks, and bike lanes. Times Square, Duffy Square, and Herald Square traded honking horns for café tables and performers in painted outfits. Even Madison and Union Square saw Broadway narrow to make room for walkers instead of windshields.

At the southern end, near Bowling Green and City Hall Park, Lower Broadway still plays host to the city’s legendary ticker-tape parades—snowstorms of paper drifting from office towers as heroes of every kind roll past. These days, it’s more shredded confetti and fewer actual tickers, but the “Canyon of Heroes” effect remains.

And then there’s the stretch that needs no introduction: The Great White Way, a phrase coined in 1901 to describe Broadway’s theater district. Between 42nd and 53rd Streets, the lights burn bright, the marquees compete for your attention, and the plays and musicals rewrite themselves nightly through applause.

From colonial trail to cultural artery, Broadway carries centuries of stories—and somehow still finds room for more...

Long before Manhattan’s tidy street plan straightened everything out, Broadway, unlike other streets in New York, followed an older native pathway, wandering freely up the island. This is why it slices across Seventh Avenue and 42nd Street, forming two triangular pockets, like a bow tie. The southern one is called Times Square, while the northern, Duffy Square, is named for World War I chaplain Father Francis P. Duffy, whose statue now watches over the crowds with admirable patience.

The stretch of Broadway from 41st to 53rd Streets goes by a different name: the Great White Way. That nickname wasn’t poetic exaggeration—those glowing billboards, marquees, and oversized posters once made the area one of the brightest electrified spots on Earth. Today, it’s still blazing away with advertisements for Broadway’s latest musicals and plays, pulling in nearly 50 million visitors a year. That’s roughly 330,000 people a day, all weaving through the lights, noise, and spectacle in search of something unforgettable.

Before it was Times Square, this chaotic crossroads answered to the far calmer name of Longacre Square. Everything changed in 1904, when New York Times publisher Adolph S. Ochs moved his newspaper into the brand-new Times Building—now known as One Times Square—and happily lent his name to the neighborhood. The Times moved out within a decade, but not before launching a little tradition in 1907: the New Year’s Eve Ball Drop. A century later, the glittering descent still draws over a million people every year, along with countless viewers around the world.

Today, Times Square is a fluorescent buffet of attractions—ABC’s Times Square Studios, Planet Hollywood, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, and whichever character impersonator is bravest that day. The towering illuminated signs, nicknamed “spectaculars” or “jumbotrons,” compete with the neon bravado of Las Vegas and often win.

Amid all that glow, shoppers duck into stores like Gap, Old Navy, Forever 21, Levi’s, the Disney Store, Hershey’s Chocolate World, and M&M’s World—each one flashing its own brand of temptation. Whether you’re hunting for a souvenir, a show, or just a moment to stand still and stare, this Midtown crossroads remains New York at its most unfiltered and unmistakable.

Back in 1801, a New York physician named David Hosack bought 22 acres of empty land from the city with an aim to establish America’s first botanical garden. And for the next ten years, the Elgin Botanic Garden really did bloom—until funding wilted, the plants went wild, and Columbia University had to step in to take over the property in 1823.

Fast-forward a century to 1926, when the Metropolitan Opera went searching for a grand new home. Columbia leased the land to its generous patron, John D. Rockefeller, Jr., setting the stage for a glittering cultural palace. Then the stock market crashed in 1929, the opera backed out, and Rockefeller found himself with prime New York real estate and no tenant. So, he pivoted—and decided to build a mass-media powerhouse instead.

In 1930, after months of negotiations involving Radio Corporation of America, National Broadcasting Company, and Radio-Keith-Orpheum, the plan was set: an entertainment complex of unprecedented scale. To make room, 228 buildings were cleared and 4,000 tenants relocated. Early name ideas included “Radio City,” “Rockefeller City,” and the dramatic “Metropolitan Square,” before the now-famous title finally stuck.

Today, Rockefeller Center stretches across all of Doctor Hosack’s original 22 acres—though the botanicals have long been replaced with 14 Art Deco buildings, a standalone tower along 51st Street, and four more rising on the west side of Sixth Avenue. There are rooftop gardens, but you’ll have to crane your neck to see anything green.

On the west side sits Radio City Music Hall, still flashing its neon glamour. And at the heart of it all lies the sunken Lower Plaza, praised by Chinese-American architect Ieoh Ming Pei as “the most successful open space in the United States, perhaps in the world.” Most visitors simply know it as “the place with the ice rink,” which has been delighting skaters since 1936.

Then there’s the view. “Top of the Rock” offers three levels of indoor and outdoor decks with clear, cinematic vistas of the New York skyline. Back on the ground, the shops spread out in every direction—big names, small designers, and everything in between. It’s the kind of place where you realize: shopping isn’t just about what you buy; it’s about where you buy it...

It may well be puzzling as to why New Yorkers use the terms “Grand Central Terminal” and “Grand Central Station” as if they’re the same thing... Here’s the secret: one is the rail terminal, the other is the post office attached to it, and the whole complex is busy enough that no one pauses to sort out the terminology.

The place's story began with Cornelius Vanderbilt, the 19th-century business titan, who collected railroads the way others collect postcards. After buying the Hudson River and New York Central lines in 1867, he fused them together and launched the construction of Grand Central Depot two years later.

The original depot, designed by architect John B. Snook, arrived in full Second Empire style—mansard roofs, ornate flourishes, and the confidence of a building that knew it had somewhere important to be. By 1874, it was ready for service. Trains glided into the Park Avenue Tunnel at 96th Street, slipping underground for the final approach. This solved the small problem of locomotives barreling down Manhattan streets, which city residents understandably found less than charming.

Then came 1902. A steam locomotive, blinded by smoke in the Park Avenue Tunnel, missed its signals and collided with another train. The crash sealed the depot’s fate. Within a few years, it was demolished, making way for the Grand Central Terminal we know today. The firms Reed & Stern and Warren & Wetmore teamed up to create the Beaux-Arts landmark—one focused on the functional layout, the other on the dramatic exterior.

Inside, the terminal doubled as an art gallery long before that was fashionable. The Main Concourse ceiling famously charts a glowing, backwards zodiac. The façade features the Glory of Commerce sculpture, a bronze statue of Vanderbilt stands guard out front, and cast-iron eagles keep watch over the whole scene.

Vanderbilt Hall regularly hosts exhibitions and seasonal events, while the Dining Concourse adds its own glow with rows of illuminated lightboxes. And every so often, the terminal surprises commuters with performance art—from choreographed flash mobs to unexpected installations—turning an everyday commute into something slightly cinematic.

Meet the undisputed champion of New York’s Art Deco era: the Empire State Building, a 102-story giant that rises over 1,450 feet above Midtown’s daily hustle. It once ruled as the tallest building on Earth; today it’s still impressive enough to hold a lineup of titles—seventh-tallest in New York, ninth in the United States, and still one of the tallest freestanding structures anywhere in the Americas.

Its name comes straight from New York’s proud nickname, the “Empire State,” and its streamlined design was the work of the Shreve, Lamb & Harmon architectural firm. Construction began in 1930, wrapped up just a year later, and replaced the former Waldorf-Astoria Hotel that once stood on the same block. From the start, the goal was simple: to build the biggest, boldest skyscraper the world had ever seen.

You’ll find this landmark in Midtown South, planted along Fifth Avenue between 34th and 35th Streets. Three observatories—on the 80th, 86th, and 102nd floors—offer wraparound views that make the city look like an architectural toy box. And thanks to its starring role in more than 250 films and TV shows, beginning with King Kong in 1933, the building’s Hollywood résumé is nearly as tall as the tower itself.

The exterior keeps things classic: Indiana limestone, granite, and clean geometric ornamentation that embodies Art Deco style without telling a story in symbols. The main entrance features metal doors framed by sleek vertical piers topped with sculpted eagles, along with a gold-lettered transom that proudly spells out the building’s name.

In recognition of its cultural and architectural significance, the Empire State Building was declared a New York City Landmark in 1980 and added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1986. Today, it remains one of Manhattan’s most enduring icons—an unmistakable marker on the skyline and an essential stop for anyone wanting to feel the full vertical spirit of New York.

Constructed on a repurposed section of elevated freight train tracks, The High Line offers a dual experience as both an urban sanctuary, providing respite from the bustling city streets, and a tribute to Manhattan's West Side, particularly its remarkable architecture. The initial segment, spanning from Gansevoort Street to West 20th Street, opened in 2009 and became an instant hit, demonstrating that open spaces could be trendy and fashionable. This sudden success also caught the attention of the city tax assessor, who saw the surrounding properties in a new light. The park's second section opened in June 2011, doubling its length to 30th Street. The third section, completed in 2014, extends along the elevated tracks until 34th Street.

The High Line incorporates various environmentally friendly features, starting with the plant life that reflects the native ecology of the region, with half of the plants being indigenous to North America and 30% native to the Northeast. This design attracts birds and butterflies, creating a natural habitat. Additionally, the park employs rainwater absorption systems, preventing water from simply flowing into gutters. While the park aims for a low environmental impact, it has undeniably made a significant impact on the surrounding neighborhood. Not only does it offer an aesthetically pleasing pathway to the heart of Chelsea's art galleries, but it has also acted as a catalyst for both architectural and cultural developments, including the relocation of The Whitney Museum to the Meatpacking District.

By glancing upwards, visitors can appreciate the surrounding architecture. The High Line is flanked by notable structures such as The Standard, located just south of 14th Street, which features an upscale restaurant and a beer garden beneath the park. Other architectural gems visible from the High Line include Frank Gehry's first commercial office building in New York, the IAC Building owned by Barry Diller, and Jean Nouvel's 100 Eleventh Avenue condo building across the street. The IAC Building captivates with its radiant appearance, while Nouvel's facade, composed of variously sized glass panes, has become an instant classic.

The architectural brilliance of the High Line itself is simply awe-inspiring. Visitors particularly enjoy the 10th Avenue Square area, featuring amphitheater-style seating and a view of the northbound traffic on Tenth Avenue, making it a favorite spot for picnics (adjacent to the nearby Chelsea Market food vendors).

While the High Line can get crowded on weekends during the summer, taking an early morning or evening stroll is highly recommended. The nighttime cityscape views are breathtaking, while early mornings offer a tranquil and refreshing experience until the sun rises above the skyscrapers to the east of the park. In truth, any time of day is perfect for a visit to the High Line as the views are always splendid.

Tip:
Food enthusiasts will find a plethora of excellent dining options nearby. Hip establishments like Cookshop and cozy Italian eatery Bottino are great choices. For more affordable meals, try the classic diner Hector's or wait for the arrival of gourmet food trucks around the corner from the Gansevoort stairs. Alternatively, you can explore the culinary delights of Chelsea Market.

If you’ve ever walked into Washington Square Park and felt like you’d stepped into a living postcard—with guitar strummers on one side, chess hustlers on the other, and NYU students cutting classes everywhere in between—you’re only catching the latest chapter of a very long story. Washington Square Park has spent decades adapting to the moods and needs of the city before becoming a go-to meeting point for just about anyone looking for a slice of New York at a human scale.

Hard to believe, but this lively hangout began as a marshy river delta, the kind of soggy patch colonial New Yorkers happily ignored. By the late 1700s, it took on a far grimmer role as a potter’s field, the final resting place for the city’s poor, unnamed, and unlucky victims of yellow fever. Not exactly the picnic-friendly image it has today...

As New York crept north in the early 19th century, the cemetery closed, and the land was re-imagined as a military parade ground—flat, open, and surprisingly forward-thinking for a space that once swallowed rainwater like a sponge. Then, in 1833, the city decided to celebrate the 50th anniversary of George Washington’s inauguration by giving the area a makeover and the name Washington Square. Neat paths, tidy lawns, and new plantings drew well-to-do residents, who lined the northern edge with elegant Greek Revival townhouses. Instantly, the place gained its reputation as a cultured corner of the growing city.

Toward the late 1800s, the Village’s bohemian spirit took over. Artists, writers, and performers treated the square as an outdoor salon, and the unveiling of Stanford White’s triumphal arch in 1892 sealed its status as a civic icon.

The mid-20th century delivered a bit of drama when planners tried to ram Fifth Avenue straight through the park. Luckily, that idea didn't materialize thanks to the fierce community pushback, which saved the space and reshaped urban activism in the process.

Today, Washington Square Park is a compact but electric patch of green—fountain, lawns, and shade—packed with locals walking their dogs, and a rotating cast of social-media hopefuls striking poses like it’s a paid gig. It’s the Village’s open-air living room, surrounded by historic streets and endless spots to grab a coffee, a snack, or just catch that “authentic Village moment,” while sitting and watching the world swirl by...

Seeking the most dramatic entrance into Manhattan?—The Brooklyn Bridge is the one. Stretching across the East River like a steel-wire tightrope for giants, this is one of New York’s most recognizable silhouettes since 1883—equal parts engineering flex and architectural poetry. The country took notice of it rather early, awarding the bridge the National Historic Landmark status in 1964, following which, civil engineers gave it their own stamp of admiration (as a National Historic Civil Engineering Landmark) in 1972.

The idea of linking Brooklyn and Manhattan had been floating around since the early 1800s, but it took the engineering duo—of John Augustus Roebling with the design, and his son Washington with the execution—to actually make it happen. Construction kicked off in 1869, and after fourteen ambitious, chaotic, and occasionally hazardous years, the bridge finally opened on May 24, 1883. President Chester A. Arthur even showed up for the ceremony, thus proving that ribbon-cuttings were the hot ticket long before Instagram...

Architecturally, the bridge is a hybrid marvel: part suspension bridge, part cable-stayed experiment, all held together by an orchestra of vertical and diagonal cables. Its stone towers, crowned with Neo-Gothic arches, rise from the river like a pair of cathedral doorways, guiding a roadway that stays well above passing ships thanks to long, raised viaducts.

The structure's numbers are just as solid. The main span clocks in at nearly 2,000 feet, the bridge itself expands and contracts by up to 16 inches, depending on the weather’s mood swings, and ships can glide under it with 127 feet of clearance to spare. Six trusses run beneath the roadway, while four enormous cables hold everything aloft—convincing evidence that 19th-century engineering was not messing around...

But the bridge saves its finest touch for people on foot. Eighteen feet above the cars is the elevated promenade, a wooden boardwalk divided down the middle, so cyclists and pedestrians can coexist in relative peace. Step onto it, and the city opens around you—skyline ahead, river below, and the gentle hum of New York all around. Indeed, it’s more than just a crossing, but a small, unforgettable performance...

In modern times, few are aware that the world-renowned Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor bears the full title of "Liberty Enlightening the World" (or "La Liberté éclairant le monde" in French). The reason for its French designation lies in the fact that this colossal copper figure was a gift from France.

Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, the French sculptor, created the statue, drawing inspiration from the words of his compatriot, Édouard René de Laboulaye, a law professor and politician who believed that a monument celebrating American independence should be a joint endeavor between the French and American people. True to this vision, France financed the statue while the United States provided the site and constructed the pedestal.

Every element of the statue was crafted in France. The metal framework, in particular, was fashioned by Gustave Eiffel, renowned for his iconic creation, the Eiffel Tower in Paris (which was completed three years later in 1889). The statue's components were shipped in crates across the Atlantic and assembled atop the finished pedestal on what was then known as Bedloe's Island (now Liberty Island). Bartholdi deliberately chose this location, as he envisioned that passing vessels would sail by, and passengers, particularly those visiting the U.S. for the first time, would perceive the statue as a welcoming symbol.

On October 28, 1886, the statue was dedicated in a ceremony that coincided with the centennial anniversary of the signing of the U.S. Declaration of Independence. President Grover Cleveland presided over the momentous occasion.

The robed female figure represents Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom. She holds a torch aloft in one hand and carries a tabula ansata, a tablet evoking the concept of law, inscribed with the date of the U.S. Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776, in the other. At her feet lie a broken shackle and a chain, symbolizing the nation's abolition of slavery.

Popular accounts, though unverified, claim that the sculptor modeled the woman's face after his own mother, Charlotte Beysser Bartholdi. He intentionally designed the figure with a strong, uncomplicated silhouette, which would be accentuated by its prominent position in the harbor, allowing viewers sailing toward Manhattan to perceive the statue from varying perspectives.

Presently, visitors can explore the interior of the statue through a glass ceiling, enhanced lighting, and a surrounding video system. They are free to roam Liberty Island at their leisure, appreciating the serene surroundings, visiting the museum, and perusing nearby gift shops.