NYC Markets, episode 2. In which Lou and Mari walk to Hell's Kitchen to see a view.

When you're looking for a peaceful weekend getaway, surrounded by nature, one of the last places on your list is likely to be midtown Manhattan, but that's exactly where this calmly colorful oasis and tranquil respite from the City is located.  I won't tell you exactly where because New Yorkers guard their secrets most ardently, clandestine waterfalls in particular.

New York is a pedestrian's paradise which means you'll walk more than you ever do at home or during any other vacation, but you won't really notice it.  Walking 15 or 20 blocks from your hotel to Hell's Kitchen will seem like a quick jaunt as you take in all the people, the cars, the people, the skyscrapers, the people, the shops, the people, and... did I mention the people?  New York is also a people-watching paradise (careful not to ogle or let your eyes become otherwise googly), but beware to also watch where you're going, especially crossing at intersections.  Don't stop too long and look at the tulips, either, because you might forget where you were headed in the first place. Street-smart-traveler rule number one:  don't make eye contact when crossing a busy intersection.  Look down or look up (looking through people is a skill only for the select few) and you'll make it safely across the road with the other chickens.
You will bump into people otherwise.  Trust me (or try it out then trust me after you've ruffled a few feathers).

On Saturday mornings we cross quite a few blocks headed down to the Hell's Kitchen flea market, which is also open on Sundays, but we have a pre-planned (of course!) reason for going on Saturdays.  It's part of a carefully crafted fleamarketing weekend strategy that involves going to the GreenFlea on Sundays (because the GreenFlea is only open on Sundays).  Vendors are eager, well-informed, and prepared for fleamarketers when the market opens at 9:00 AM.  You won't catch anyone setting up last minute.

annexmarkets.com

has thorough info on both

Hell's Kitchen and Chelsea Fleas

This first photo is the view from just inside the 9th Avenue entry to the flea market.  The market stretches from 9th to 10th Avenues with tables set up mostly on both sides of 39th, some in the middle, and still others in a large empty courtyard near the entrance.

Vendors have a great variety of goods which vary often.  While we have never had the good fortune to fleamarket two weekends in a row, we do notice that many of the Hell's Kitchen flea vendors are active collectors and not simply reselling the same goods from week to week.

While we enjoy scanning the "merch" primarily, meeting new people and learning about collectibles is always part of the plan.  Positive people make for a positive experience and most of the vendors with whom we have had an opportunity to speak are knowledgeable about their collections and are more than willing to share that knowledge and the provenance of the items they are selling.


Fleamarketing rule number one is to steer clear of vendors who either don't know about their own goods, or who won't disclose information.  Anyone adamantly unwilling to negotiate also makes for an unpleasant experience, but never let a single singularly sour vendor ruin your fabulous fleamarket adventure.

Recent visits have yielded expansions to my vintage camera & razor collections as well as a nice old book (or two), and some odd pieces of china.  A vendor last spring was offering exhausted equipment and supplies from a local school and we picked up a couple of worn Erlenmeyer flasks which we've recycled into eccentrically cool bud vases.  Depending on the booth and the collector, you'll sometimes spend a quick dollar or two and other times find yourself immersed in a lengthy transaction with a collector who isn't as willing to part with his rare Kodak British-racing-green leather accordion camera as he should be.

Mari has a favorite jewelry vendor at this market (and every market across two continents?) who always has something new/old to fill a missing void in my wife's sparkly collections.  A thoughtful (trained?) husband will learn to scan rows of jewelry cases for just the right color/shape Italian micro mosaic inlay pin to temporarily contain in a bubble-wrap jewelry pouch as it follows its protected trajectory to deep South Texas where it will find a new home among previously collected paisans.  Sometimes a new design or an intriguing new collectible or craft will find its way into our life (and into an existing collection) like earrings or cuff links (have I mentioned my cuff link collection?) fashioned from defunct but artfully-crafted vintage wristwatch movements.

Were I a local resident, I would enjoy the opportunity to liberate a lamp, end table, or chair from another era, but, alas, even my suitcase-within-a-suitcase trick would not allow for such bulky emancipation.

If there were ever something

I really wanted,

I'm sure I would find a way.

You can easily pass an enjoyable three hours (right up until sloppy-lunch-joes time) fleamarketing Hell's Kitchen.  The vendors are informed and friendly, the goods are vintage and diverse, and the view...

The priceless view is well worth the (no) admission charge.

Only five cross-town blocks away (just about a barely-noticeable-walkable mile), the Empire State building proudly radiates its majestic central location to fleamarketers, travelers, and collector-photographers afar, all in search of that elusive yet ultimately discoverable and surprisingly easy to negotiate good deal.

A healthy jaunt down to Madison Square Park and the Chelsea Flea next time.