A friend and I took the Ikea ferry out to check out Red Hook as a possible place to live. I've heard it's an "artsy" community but I had never made the trek out there. After stopping at Ikea and having really dry salmon for lunch, we headed out searching for the center of Red Hook. What we found was nothing, lots of nothing. It was like going to a tiny town in Maine. Sort of a nautical theme going on, buoys and nets, a crab house. A few bars, some old row houses, a number of warehouses, both abandoned and in use. Not much else. I spoke with a few of the locals who said they really enjoyed the solitude but one should really own a car. There's one bus, the B61, that has a semi-reliable schedule but other than that, no cabs, no subways. Though interesting, I won't be looking in Red Hook for a new apartment. I satisfied my curiosity. Quaint yes, but it's a barren wasteland, "artsy" or not.
Commuters at the pier waiting for various ferries out of Manhattan.
One of Red Hook's artists in a very precarious position. As I watched him paint this big "red hook" on his garage door, I envisioned one of those flimsy ladders slipping out from under him, him falling on his ass, resulting in a broken back or pelvis. Maybe a fractured hip. I couldn't watch...I had to walk away.
A beautiful sunset from the most desolate place in New York City, Red Hook.