If you haven't been there in person, you will certainly have caught glimpses of it in movies such as Carlito's Way, North By Northwest, The Taking Of Pelham 123 to name just a few.
It was early evening by the time I reached Grand Central and peak rush hour.
I stood on 42nd Street just observing and trying to get my bearings and figuring out the way in. That bit was easy, I just had to follow the crowds.
Surprisingly to the entrance had swing doors that needed to be pushed or pulled, which although kept with the traditional features of the building, didn't do much to ease congestion at this busy time of the day. I made a note to try not to get in anyone's way; keep moving, don't stop suddenly or a commuter might run into me, step to one side if I have to stop and look around before taking up a position to take photos.
Without much of a plan or knowing the layout I stepped from the street into the terminal and paused.... Walking past some shops (there are 68 retails stores inside) and following the crowd I found myself in the entrance tunnel lit by beautiful chandeliers.
This led to the food hall which hosts food outlets that can satisfy any taste bud, from Chinese, to salads, to bagels and pretzels to Mexican and everything in between.
Feeling a little peckish I decided to stop and re-fuel and take in the atmosphere. I grabbed a bite to eat and a drink and wandered around with my tray looking for a spare seat, which I found underneath a stone archway.
People watching, I noticed the couple holding hands across a coffee cup strewn table, perhaps an illicit encounter I imagined. Parents trying to calm two unruly and overtired children. The homeless guy rummaging through the bin, looking inside discarded food containers for tonight's dinner.
To my left were a couple of business gents in their smart suits. One was particularly vocal, his voice resonating around the stone archway; sales figures, the big deal, overseas contracts, the team. He went on and on. "I'm a big wig" his talked seemed to want to tell everyone within earshot. I exchanged looks with his quiet partner who was fiddling with his empty coffee cup; Me: Poor you, he does go on doesn't he? Him: Yep! I wish he'd shut up about himself so I can get home and salvage what's left of the evening!
Finishing my diet coke and gathering my bags, someone was already waiting in the wings to take my seat.
I can't quite remember how now, but I managed to make my way to the upper level of Grand Central, the main concourse.
It's huge, it's beautiful, it's splendid. It echoes with the sound of rushed foot steps and the murmur of hundreds of voices in unison, occasionally interrupted by announcements on the tannoy.
I took my place upon the steps that lead up to Charlie Parlmer's Metrazor restaurant (strictly no sitting on the steps!). With my view raised above the concourse I soaked it all in.
It was a regret that I didn't bring a tripod that day, but having since read more on Grand Central's terminal it's seems you need to give a weeks notice if you have the intention of photographing or filming with a trip. The sun was getting low and I had lost the light of the day, so my photo capturing had to be done with a steady hand, as fast a shutter speed I could manage, and with the occasional help of a ledge to rest my camera on.
I thought it would be a good chance to experiment with some time lapse video. Again, forgive the camera shakes, I will get better!
As with my visit to the New York Public Library earlier in the day, I wondered about the history and all the people that have journeyed through the terminal. The station would have seen many happy reunions and sad goodbye's.
I intrepidly stepped through the arch of track 25, not sure if I was allowed there without a ticket. No one seemed to notice. The tracks were darker, the walls covered in a build up of grime and pollution, but yet that gave it another appeal to me. It's funny how New York dirt adds to the character of the place, but in the UK it's just grime!
Taking another turn I noticed an entrance into long neon lit pedestrian tunnel. Hmm...was this for the station's staff? Should I go in? Ah, someone will trow me out if I'm not meant to be there!
A few seconds later I was walking against a stream of commuters rushing to catch their trains. Walking against the tide of people I shot from the hip.
Then I noticed some doorways onto some train tracks and I secreted myself just inside and clicked away unseen.
I walked the length of the long corridor, which, if I remember correctly, took me out at around 45th Street. It was dark now and getting cooler, but not cool enough to put me off walking back to my apartment and soak in some more of the beautiful city of New York.
