By Ian Baldwin t ravelers to New York are usually a hardy lot, traipsing through Times Square's garish neon glow at all hours of the night, ascending the heights of the Empire State Building, and packing themselves onto boats bound for the Statue of Liberty. Yet when it comes to crossing the East River, they grow timid. It's a shame, because they miss the borough that is at turns more exotic and more American than any other place on earth, one whose name has been applied to Italian chewing gum, Spanish cigarettes, even characters in Japanese movies. The orange Staten Island ferry, laden with commuters, plods back and forth, while nimbler smaller craft round Manhattan's tip.
Helicopters buzz in and out of the heliport directly across the river.
You may even see wet-suited figures on Jet Skis skipping over the water. While the East River is not as polluted as it once was, the Jet Skiers' enthusiasm is, well, questionable. Walk a few paces down the promenade, away from the bridge, and turn inland at Montague Street, the Heights' commercial strip. Several national chains have staked out territory on Montague, but the street hasn't completely surrendered. A short distance along, Montague intersects Clinton Street, where the Church of St. Ann and the Holy Trinity stands on the northwest corner.