On the way to the Met, you get a good slice of NYC atmosphere.

Let’s say you take the 4, 5 or 6 train to the 86th street station. Once you find your way up to street level, you’ll be greeted by some sidewalk sheds, and then you’ll have to figure out which way is west. If you can see the super skinny-tall 432 Park Avenue, that’s south. Walk one block west, and you’ll cross Park Avenue itself. It’s a two-way street, and it has a big median down the middle that’s filled with trees. I’ve always loved the way this double-wide canyon opens up to show more of the city in one view.

You’ll know when to turn left, because suddenly in front of you will be all green, with blue sky above. As you walk down 5th Avenue, you have a charcuterie board of Manhattan architecture on your left, and the vast greenery of Central Park on your right. If it struck your fancy, you could step into that park, head down one of the many footpaths, and spend a lovely evening lost among the trees and rocks and fields nestled inside one of the highest population density areas in the world.

But we’re here on a mission, so you keep straight. The sidewalk below your feet is oddly something resembling cobblestone. It’s pretty, and not quite made for walking, and it does a good job indicating that you’re not on just any sidewalk.

As you get closer, the food trucks get louder and more numerous. You’ll find the New York classics like hot dogs and gyros, and plenty of variety besides. You’ll also encounter the rows of people selling their own art. It’s never been clear to me how many of these stalls are genuine hand-made crafts made with love, and how many are tourist traps designed to feel like hand-made art. But I have a fondness for them nonetheless. Long ago, when I lived in New York, I considered spinning up a little art stall myself. I had some clever ideas for making art from wires, combining an aesthetic of industrialization with a feeling of optimism. But I’m not a doer, so I never did.

When you’re almost there, you’ll see a little playground. And wouldn’t you know, it’s a Met-themed playground, complete with pyramid and obelisk. Whenever I see it I think, “I should go check out that playground” before I realize that solo adults aren’t really supposed to do that.

Then you cross the next street. It’s kind of two streets, actually. The first one is just a street into Central Park. But the second one is 30 feet of road that then dives, understatedly, half a floor under ground level, into a dark little cave that is clearly not meant for you. I like to imagine that all the wonders of the museum have passed through this threshold, tucked away in an average-looking van or truck. In reality there are probably several loading areas into the museum. This is probably one of them, but I’ve never investigated; it feels like you’re not supposed to look directly at it. Just mind your business, and cross the street. Nothing to see here, just city stuff.

And now you’re reached the eastern-most cornerstone of the museum. Just on the other side of that limestone are some truly ancient treasures — the Egyptian wing. To get in there, you’ll have to walk a ways further, to the entrance at the top of the steps. But you wanted to do that anyway; they’re a worthy sight of their own.