Cold Spring is a little town that is on the outskirts of Manhattan, or as they would say here, Upstate. The idea of going to this little town was from Spanish friend who came to study English in Manhattan. The plan was a little thought and done, I never thought that such a small and insignificant pub was going to love me so much.
The trip was quiet. We took the train at Grand Central Station and when we arrived it was all covered by snow. It was February, but in our minds it seemed that the good weather was coming. When we left the train directly, we felt a wave of fresh air and frozen lake that reached us from deep inside the town.
This enchanted region has just three places to eat, and an Argentine coffee. Our first feeling was to take pictures in the beautiful lake that surrounded the mountains. To our fortune or misfortune, we met a lonely man who walked his three dogs and told us the story of that small and enchanted town. Where the ancient writers had been inspired and where the first locomotive of the United States came from in the 19th century. Just across the lake you could see an area where he told us that the US Navy was located for some time. As we walked, he told us that it was a town that had brought him back to life, since he worked on Wall Street and was barely an hour away from Manhattan. During the summers there were many companies on the island that literally hired excursions through the mountains that surrounded this town.
Walking through one of the main streets of Cold Spring, we found two stores of precious antiques both but a little scary, there you could find everything, honestly, everything, from a hat made with fox fur to the book they read the Grimm brothers in their time. This place was a host of strange things that hid a story a past and especially an identity.
Our tour ended up in a beautiful restaurant where we were served spectacularly good food. Then we walked to the station where we took the train to Grand Central Station.
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