A Neighborhood Tour

When I fell asleep Friday night, still feverish, after downing a mugful of apple cinnamon flavored Theraflu, the temperature outside was in the mid-20s. When I woke up Saturday morning, my fever was gone, my appetite was back--and so was the sun. And NY1, our local news channel, was forecasting temperatures that day in the mid-50s. For a moment, I felt as if I'd slept straight through winter (wouldn't that be nice?). But I still felt a little groggy. So I spent most of the day watching the sun through the window.
By Sunday, I was feeling stir crazy. Though I was still feeling a little under the weather too and had a nasty, cringe-inducing cough, I couldn't stay inside another day--at least, not on a day like Sunday (another sun-filled springlike afternoon).
I cancelled my brunch plans with friends for fear 1) that I might still be a little contagious (especially since one of the other guests was pregnant), and 2) that I might still be in need of a little rest. I have this tendency to go from 0 to 60 the moment I start perking up after an illness.
So my husband offered instead to take me on a slow cruise through the neighborhood (on foot--we do live in NYC after all). If I felt sick at any point, we would turn around.
It had been a month or so since I last walked down Bedford Avenue--the main drag through Williamsburg (at least, if you're hip, or think you're hip, and under the age of 40)--and through nearby McCarren Park. The park's main track and field, and many of the buildings that overlooked it, were under construction. There were at least four different apartment buildings in various stages of completion. And as we walked up Bedford Avenue, I noticed two new stores (a vinyl record shop and a tiny cafe) as well as several signs advertising "loft space." After we picked up bagels and lox spread and a chocolate croissant from the bagel shop near Grand Avenue, we turned back toward the BQE to walk past an earlier multi-use development I'd admired. All the floor-level retail space was leased, to a salon, a Scandanavian coffeehouse, and an art gallery. The second and third floors--reserved for residential units--appeared to be filled too. All the mailboxes had names written on them. One scruffy-haired tenant was carrying a painting under his arm up the stairs when we passed by.
I'm not surprised by all the activity. Williamsburg's giant converted loft spaces attracted waves of artists in the late 90s who had been priced out of the East Village and the Lower East Side--as well as recent college grads willing to share subdivided floor space with a dozen of their closest pals. The neighborhood is close to Manhattan (three subway stops from Union Sqaure). It's got all the amenities of an old Brooklyn neighborhood (butchers, bakeries, bodegas, a fish market and fruit stands) as well as at least a dozen new art galleries, bars and a burgeoning music scene. And it butts up to the waterfront. All "desirables" in real estate terms.
So it's not surprising that all the big NY developers--even Trump--have been staking out any unclaimed property and squeezing in as many apartments as allowed by zoning.
I just hope that we can afford to buy one of them, once we decide to stop renting.