Riverdale

After we explored the Fieldston neighborhood of the Bronx recently, we ventured over into neighboring Riverdale. We were already having a perfect city adventure day, when we spotted an old Buick parked along the side of the street. As we were admiring it, a man walked by us and doubled back to let us know that an "old checkered cab was parked just down the block." My default when a stranger starts to talk to me unprompted is immediate suspicion and annoyance, but that quickly turned to gratitude when we realized that he'd just given us a hot tip.

The checkered cab was just as wonderful as promised—what I wouldn't give to still have the New York streets filled with them—and the street kept offering vintage vehicles, one right after the other. We felt as if we had indeed stepped back in time, and even heard another passerby exclaim (somewhat hyperbolically) "this is the street of 87-year-old cars!"

We walked along the Hudson River and barely saw another person for what seemed like miles, which is something to be cherished when you're still within city limits. The Bronx gets a bad rap, but there is so much more to the borough than most people know, myself included. Every time I've ventured north I've been rewarded with nothing but wonderful experiences—at the NYBG or the zoo, on City Island, in a cemetery, park or historical home.

We ate at two diners—the Short Stop and Tibbett—and there is no more perfect way to start and end a day, if you ask me. We made our way back to the train through Marble Hill, which appears to be part of the Bronx but is actually still considered Manhattan, and therefore is the only Manhattan neighborhood on the mainland of North America. Sometimes I feel as if I've seen most of New York and then I have a day like this one, and realize that I could live here forever and still not see it all—a theory I'm all too happy to test.