With a flurry of movement and shimmer we dropped from the platform and were absorbed into the murky dimness of the tunnel. Unlike in Paris those departing the land of the commuter for that of the living should be adequately prepared in NYC so over the rails, around the rubbish and through the pillars we trudged with a demeanour suiting our clothes but not our purpose. Dressed as those revered we feared less the usual curtain twitchers but why take chances in a city where suspicion always rides shotgun? Credibility stretches only so far, one accented word enough to crash the facade. Trains rolled past, their white eyes casting thick shifting shafts of light through the pillars around us. We kept moving.
We snaked further through the tunnels, deeply inhaling that thick pungent subway atmosphere and finally reaching a junction where the regular Lexington Avenue track splits into the a looptrack which shoots the trains back northbound. This oneway, zero clearance loop track held our prize for the evening - a long abandoned subway station built as the showpiece station of a new system. As a train veered into the loop we bounded after it, hurtling along the tunnel, leaping the rails, hugging the wall and listening for any sound to warn us of following trains. After what felt an eternity the outside of the corner opened up into a long wide platform curving sharply around out of sight. Great yellow lights reflected off the polished tiles which arched overhead. Halfway down the platform stood an arched doorway framing a set of stairs leading upwards, below the bold green letters CITY HALL.