Hudson Reporter Archive

Hoboken: The Lost City Right Next Door

People often unconsciously approach a new destination as if it were an open book for discovery. On a recent trip to Hoboken to pitch a newspaper column to the local paper, we felt our child-like curiosity take over and as we trekked through town, gazing at the world through innocent eyes. We embarked from Bayonne, battle-ready, on the Hudson-Bergen light rail, silently eager to reach our destination. The train slowly hummed and jolted its way down the winding metal road, finally stopping at a dead end.

It revealed a city with buildings, trees, and people, yet unlike the one we were accustomed to as kids in Bayonne. To us, this was the lost city of Hoboken. We trudged through the vast terminal, which was almost a hidden metropolis unto itself, trying to make our way to 1400 Washington St., the headquarters for the Hudson Reporter.

Taking rest on the cold, gray steps of a dilapidated building at the mouth of the station, we were intrigued by the new world we had discovered and exchanged words of excitement: “So this is what Hoboken looks like.” Savoring our stale burgers in the bitter wind, it was not long before we realized we were being watched. All at once, birds came from every direction! Their ferocious wings beat violently in the air and they swarmed around us with crazed looks of hunger. Fighting and squawking pigeons made their way to our feet. We edged farther away from the starving little fiends and fed them what we could not bring ourselves to eat.

We realized with slight panic that our scheduled appointment was only a mere half-hour away. Gathering our belongings, we began the hunt. The search proved to be a failure as every corner we turned revealed strange names like Willow Avenue and Clinton Street. With no map to refer to, we were at the mercy of the villagers. We hesitantly approached a figure behind a nearby hot dog stand, expecting the worst, and we cowered in his presence. He instructed us in a kind voice to go two blocks up to Washington Street for the bus. As the bus approached, we fished for pocket change, fearful that the fare would be more than we carried, but the fare was actually 5 cents less than what we normally pay.

Bistros and interesting shops packed every corner. A “McDonaldland” was instantly our favorite landmark and we snapped a quick picture, promising to return for an enchanted value meal. We even found ourselves relating to the “It’s Greek to Me” restaurant, whose name defined our journey of discovering the new. So immersed we were in the quirky character of this town, we lost our original intention. We had passed our destination and had to yell for the bus to stop.

We said goodbye to our new friends and trekked two blocks to 1400 Washington St. There stood the glorious structure; we had made it. Although we only visited Hoboken, in our minds it was more than just a trip – it was an epic adventure. Maybe it’s because we’re too naïve and sheltered, or we thrill too easily.

Or maybe there’s a world out there that we have yet to explore, even if it is next door. – Melissa Alferez and Laura Joyce

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