A concrete promenade and a mile of sandy beach is all there is to escape the stifling asphalt and steel-dominated life in the big city. Welcome to the 'Bronx Riviera'.
Next stop... Joy. Line 6 of New York City's tangled subway doesn't end in a gray point on the map, nor at Pelham Bay Park. Instead, it opens up to a bizarre rainbow of sights and sounds, a Tower of Babel by the sea. Some call it Orchard Beach. To others, it is their hot backyard.
Located at the edge of the Bronx, everything on Orchard Beach tells a story. The beach itself is artificial, built in the 1930s to accommodate the booming working class population. But the people of Orchard Beach are far from fake.
Voices of a dozen different races join together in songs about guerrillas, ghetto life and big bucks. Tanned and oiled bodies walk the sidewalks like catwalks, Mexican fellas throw a ball around, pimped out cars shake to Dominican beats. Between bachata, rap and salsa rhythms the Bronx Riviera shines like an 18 carat gold watch. This is the B side of the New Yorker cassette, and although nothing is expensive, every centimeter overflows with joy and color.