Destinations of great historical importance can be fascinating to visit, there is something entirely different about seeing and experiencing a place of great historical significance. Although sometimes is the case, travelers do not always find themselves in the right place at the right time- in all likelihood you will not be visiting a city when a specific performance, event or convention of your choice is taking place. But in a city with a rich history and culture like Philadelphia, there is always something for a traveler to see and experience and because of this these cities will always attract curious travelers from the world over. Settled by William Penn in 1682, Philadelphia is considered the “birthplace” of our nation because of its critical importance in the Revolutionary War. Until around 1830 Philadelphia remained the largest city in the United States. Today, aside from its history, Philadelphia is known for its cosmopolitan atmosphere, art, professional sports teams, and of course the Philly Cheesesteak. Philadelphia is a city that anyone would agree, embraces its history, but by no means is it a city that lives in the past. Recently I had the chance to visit Philadelphia, see the history behind the city and ultimately how it’s past has shaped it into the city it is today.
The first thing that struck me, walking around Philadelphia, was its size. But this time I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the immense size of the city in fact I was surprised at how small the city truly felt. Philadelphia has a large metropolitan area which makes up for much of its population, but for a traveler most of the cities sights are within a convenient walking distance. My colleague Hilary and I were able to explore a broad spectrum of sights, from Independence Hall to the Italian Market, all by foot and all within the better part of a day. We found that even the simplest of travelers can manage his or her way around Philadelphia.
Hilary and I began our day at City Hall in center city Philadelphia, which sits at the intersection of Broad and Market Streets. The wind was blowing and the thick grey clouds threatened to open up. Never mind the weather, we enjoyed the quiet sidewalks and nearly empty streets of a rainy Sunday morning in April. We followed Broad Street north to Arch Street which led us directly to Reading Terminal Market-our first stop. Reading Terminal is a great place to grab a breakfast or lunch, with over 80 vendors selling everything from fresh seafood to crafts it is also a great place to spend time even if food isn’t your highest priority. Hilary and I arrived to find the market relatively quiet. Chairs and stools were still turned from the floors being mopped the night before and besides bakeries and small diners, most stalls were closed for the day. Hilary enjoyed a blueberry scone from a bakery near the entrance as we strolled the perimeter of the market looking for something tasty or intriguing, but nothing caught our eye so we zipped up our jackets and headed out onto Arch Street again. Not far from the market we came across the Chinese friendship gate, the elaborate and ornamental archway that marks the entrance to the Chinatown district. We decided to explore some of Chinatown which, unlike the rest of the city, was bustling with activity and complete with all of the standard city noises one would expect during rush hour. For some reason neither the weather nor the fact that it was Sunday had kept Chinatown quiet. We poked our heads in a few small gift shops which sold phony silk dresses, miniature Buddha statues, bamboo gardens and good-luck charms. Another shop down the street was painted and carpeted in light bubbly blue and was dedicated entirely to “Hello Kitty” merchandise. Being conscious of the time and having not seen anything that caught our eye, we left Chinatown the same way we entered and continued down Arch Street toward the river.
Before long we found ourselves at the new National Constitution Center on Independence Mall. The interior of the Constitution Center was as impressive as the exterior, and we would have loved to spend more time in it had the admission prices for the exhibit been within our budget. Instead we walked to the other end of Independence Mall for a look at Independence Hall itself. The simplicity of the building would remind most visitors of the nation’s modest beginnings such a short time ago. We took a look around the Hall itself and a neighboring courtyard. Next to the courtyard was a Greek type building with eight large Doric columns and a large, commanding triangular pediment. Upon seeing the building I knew exactly what it was, though I’m not sure if Hilary did at first, luckily there was a sign out front for a free exhibit which helped me coax her into the building for a look around. As we entered, on our left was a bronze plaque commemorating the charter of the Second Bank of the United States and Jackson’s war on the bank throughout his presidency, these days with security and large scale tourism its not often that you get so close to such a interesting piece of history. I could imagine Nicholas Biddle, president of the bank at the time, coming to work in the morning through those same doors almost 200 years ago. The exhibit was quiet, simple, clean and an expenseless break from the city, but the best part was not the exhibit, but going down into the basement and being able to see the foundations of the building. Looking at the foundations of this building and seeing the hodge-podge of oddly, misshapen rocks I began to consider why after the war of 1812 when the bank was rechartered was it necessary to have a building that whose façade would undoubtedly command respect.
We found an exit in the basement which brought us back out to Chestnut Street where we then located the Liberty Light Show that Hilary had been eager to see. The Liberty Light Show would be a great place to bring kids, but the talking Benjamin Franklin hologram was not exactly what Hilary had been hoping for. I entertained myself in the gift shop with stuffed Ben Franklin bears and pens that had floating liberty bells inside, while Hilary tried on a variety of colonial hats and garments. We then followed Sixth Street down to Washington Square which despite the cyclist that almost hit Hilary, was surprisingly, even eerily quiet for its location in the middle of the city. While in the park we saw the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a monument commemorating Revolutionary War soldiers, many of whom were buried in mass graves on the grounds. We sat down on a bench; in the silence of the park I could hear the flags and the eternal flame flipping back and forth with the wind. Before leaving the park we decided on our next destination, Fabric Row, we also decided we would not consult our map in finding it. Rather we headed south and wove through smaller side streets to see what we might find. Not far out of the park we were stopped by a woman who asked us for directions. We told the woman that we were not locals and could offer little more than a map similar to her own. We couldn’t help her, but we were impressed with ourselves- clearly without our map out we looked like locals, we had assimilated to our surroundings well and avoided the stereotypical tourist look of either walking with our heads down in a map and running into people or with our heads up admiring the tall buildings. In our wandering we found Old St. Josephs Church, the oldest Catholic Church in the city, tucked back off of a small alleyway. A large archway led us into the churches courtyard where we stood and could hear to the churches choir practicing. As we began to get closer to Fabric Row we came across a walled cemetery where we met a funny old man on a bicycle who told us of the Native American tribesman and chiefs buried there.
Fabric Row may not be far from the Old City but it has an entirely different atmosphere, one filled with tattoo, skateboard and coffee shops. Before we reached the inner part of Fabric Row with the fabric galleries, cutters and designers we passed by a series of “vintage” thrift stores and other stores in the area surrounding the original fabric row. One thrift shop called Armed and Dangerous was blasting music from the storefront. This outer area of Fabric Row is different and interesting but the true fabric row offers little for travelers unless they are in need of fabric or upholstery. Hilary and I both found this to be true and so continued south for lunch at the world renowned Pat’s King of Steaks.
Philadelphia is known for its cheesesteaks and Pat’s is a Philadelphia institution when it comes to cheesesteaks, certainly not you’re run of the mill cheesesteak joint. Hilary and I went for Pat’s who though lacking the bright and maybe excessive advertising of its competition, Geno’s, claimed to have the better cheesesteak. The line at Pat’s stretched around the corner, as did its neighbors. But the line moved quickly as one man ran the register and shouted orders in short, loud codes, what seemed like an indecipherable language to me and probably everyone else in line. One could not help but be amazed at watching the grill master at work through the plexiglas ordering window. He was taking and completing orders at an astonishing rate. His white Pat’s t-shirt was plastered to his large round stomach with what looked to be a combination of sweat and cheesesteak grease. The Pat’s kitchen ran like clock-work, and it’s safe to say that this chef proved to everyone there that he was truly an expert in his field. We sat down to eat our cheesesteaks at one of the few, highly sought after tables which Hilary had saved for us while I ordered. By the time I unwrapped my cheesesteak the wax paper it was wrapped in was translucent with grease. Three things immediately began to drip out the bottom of my cheesesteak, clear oily grease, a grey mixture of grease and cheese, and cheese whiz that had not reached one of the grease veins of my cheesesteak. I sopped up the run-off material with our french fries, which made for a thoroughly satisfying lunch. The food was delicious just as we had expected, but in reality it was the atmosphere that made the Pat’s cheesesteak experience memorable.
Now that we had gotten our cheesesteak fill we backtracked north to walk through the Italian Market and eventually make our way to the Vietnam War Memorial. After passing through several blocks of residential neighborhood we reached the Italian district. Today this area truly represents metropolitan Philadelphia with a large number of now not only Italian stores but Chinese and Central American stores as well. By the time we reached the market, sales for the day were done and it was being swept and cleaned. We walked under the awnings of shops where the smell of seafood mixed with the scent of boxes and crates being burned in the street. We stopped in DiBruno Brothers, a store that sells oils, cheeses, olives and pasta and then The Spice Corner, which specializes in spices, tea’s and coffee’s and assorted dried fruits. Hilary found a small chocolate shop where we bought half a dozen raspberry, pecan and dark chocolate truffles as a follow up to our cheesesteaks. We found an open table at a café where we took a break to locate ourselves on the map and enjoy the truffles. After a while the sun came out through the clouds, which prompted us to continue up 9th Street towards the war memorial. When we hit South Street we peered down and were surprised to find that it was somewhat busy with shoppers and visitors even on a cloudy Sunday afternoon. I lent my pen and conversed with a tall, dreadlocked painter on South Street while Hilary poked through one of the neighborhoods many funky, boutiquey clothing stores. After Hilary was done we took 5th Street further north into Society Hill where we wandered, admiring the many historic Federal and Georgian style homes. Finally we reached the Vietnam memorial where we had planned to end our day and our tour of Philadelphia.
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