Taking the L train from Manhattan and getting off at Bedford Avenue lands you right smack in the midst of trendy Williamsburg with all the artisanal/hipster cliches you care to load onto it. The L train wasn’t running, though, so arriving at Marcy Avenue via the M train exposed us to a whole other, funky, humble side of Williamsburg. The clumsy clutter of streets and highways. The wall murals. The rampant construction. The deadpan signage. We learned that Williamsburgh lost its “h” in 1852. And no trip to Williamsburg is complete without a pilgrimage to Rough Trade, one of the last great record stores in existence — we each walked away with a pile of CDs by artists we hadn’t heard of when we walked in the door.
(click photos to enlarge)
another eye opens 
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