After four crazy days in Manhattan, walking up and down like a lunatic, and a Friday night of comedy and booze, Saturday was begging me to slow down and do something more relaxed. Managing to escape the touristic frenzy that the weekend would probably add to the city, I hopped on a train to Brooklyn and went… to the beach.

I’d seen it in enough movies to know that Coney Island should actually be renamed to Corny Island. The charm of that small strip of old fashioned beach resort is precisely that there isn’t a sliver of sophistication in miles.

Long gone the hot Summer days, I wasn’t able to see Coney Island in all it’s glory. Autumn left the place sad and abandoned, and even the famous Cyclone rollercoaster was closed - such disappointment! Despite the cold weather, the rest of the Astroland amusement park was open, with most of the small rides pumping their conflicting tunes, but not moving due to a lack of customers.

I bought a ticket for the Wonder Wheel, wondering, indeed, if Manhattan could be seen from the top. It could, on a clear day, according to the middle aged man controlling the access to the carts. He’d seen the Twin Towers burn from up there.

Coney Island had seen better days, when he was a young boy, he explained, shaking his head in dismay “It was the world’s playground! Now, it’s reduced to three major attractions!” But in the Summer it’s still so crowded you can hardly move, he assured me: “It’s just too cold to be out here, right now”

Many of the boardwalk bars and restaurants were open, with only a couple of tables out for the locals. They’re wooden boxlike shacks, overly decorated with colourful handpainted type and illustration, little cartoonish statuettes and, of course, plenty of American flags. The long glass counters display all sorts of greasy to very greasy food. Apart from the pizza slices and hot dogs, everything is deep fried.

They even have a novelty delicacy strangely called a “Mozzarepa”: It’s some sort of fried corn stuff with cheese inside. It’s sheer genius: corny and cheesy at the same time. Coney Island at it’s best!

I wanted to try something more traditional, though, and I found something that always made me curious, when I saw it in the movies: a corn dog. As it turns out, it’s just a sausage on a stick, covered in -you’ve guessed it - deep fried cornmeal.

From the sea facing bench where I was munching away on my first (and last) corn dog, I could see the wood pier streching into the bay, more crowded than I thought it would be. It wasn’t full of tourists, or idle families in weekend leisure trips, however. Upon closer inspection, I realised people were fishing, with their long rods and buckets of bait.

Apart from the Jewish holidays, that would still atract a small crowd of visitors, the locals had the beach for them again. The day was as clear as could be, and I did see Manhattan from the top of the creaking Wonder Wheel. It seemed so very far away.