Good books are like this: you’re immediately immersed in it, you get to know all characters and their history, you hold them dear or hate them, you feel for them. And you finish them with a smile or with a tear in the corner of your eye, their words lingering around you for a while. Then you wish the story to still go on, but all you can do is return to those pages time and time again, just for a little bit, just to shake hands once again with those worlds.

In that sense, New York is like a good book. Every page of this city, be it the long walks along 5th Avenue or Central Park, Brooklyn Bridge or those big museums, is a story in itself, has a flavor that you can feel in your heart. And its chapters will stay with you forever, and you’ll want to come back to New York over and over.

I’ve only spent 24 hours in New York when my connecting flight to Toronto was cancelled and the only available flight was scheduled next day. So I started exploring around, only to discover a new friend in Manhattan, one that can entertain you for a lifetime, one to whom you can return anytime for a chat. Just like a good book.