Below the streets of New York City lies the hot, pulsating monster of Penn Station. Upon stepping off the train you are immediately plunged into a world of sensory overload as the brain melting heat hits you in the face like a soaking wet pillowcase. As you ascend the escalator into the main terminal you are met with a classic array of New York City aromas. A pungent bouquet of steaming pizza, homeless urine, gooey Cinnabuns and putrid body odor waft into your nose like the perfume of a depraved madman. Do not be discouraged though, because if you can manage to navigate your way through the obstacle course of crying children, Long Island guidos, and crystal meth addicts, the vibrant streets of Manhattan are just within your reach.
That picture.. you know the one.. is unfathomable. I think that's wider than your mouth! It looks like Walter the donkey!
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