Brooklyn: How Sweet It Is

When you cross one of the bridges leading into Brooklyn, there are road signs in the normal US green and white motorway colours, but with unusual messages:
Brooklyn: How Sweet It Is or Brooklyn: Believe the Hype
on entering. Or on leaving
Leaving Brooklyn: Fuhgeddaboudit! and Leaving Brooklyn: Oi Vey!

Since the beginning of the month, I've joined the very long line of people who have come from all over the world to become a Brooklynite. Brooklyn is the most populous borough in New York, and the second largest (after Queens). Its got a strong identity within New York; when the boroughs merged to become the present city in 1898, Brooklyn was the only one in which there was fierce resistance. Some still lament the occasion as The Great Mistake of 1898.

I haven't seen too much of my new home-borough yet, but what I have seen I really like. I live here on the edge of Prospect Park, Brooklyn's equivalent of Central Park (and created by the same team, Frederick Olmsted and Calvert Vaux). It takes about an hour by train to get to Columbia, but that is about the only negative thing about the move. Brooklyn's suburbs, here and elsewhere, consist of row after row of fine brownstone houses; it has a vibrant music industry and a lot of good cafes. Sometimes it reminds me of San Francisco. The hectic of Manhattan is far reduced here, and where I live, there is a strong neighbourhood feeling.

I am sharing a flat with three others: Jessica is a student teacher, Nathe a neurologist (actually a blogger and photographer who does neurology on the side) and Darla an architect.

Moving to Brooklyn, I got to drive over the Brooklyn Bridge.

I have painted my room and gotten some of the furniture I need; slowly the pile of boxes in the middle of my room is getting smaller and the visible carpet is getting bigger.