There’s a lot to do and see in greater Baltimore. So much that it can seem overwhelming. Instead of trying to do it all, students at Towson University were assigned to explore just one block in one neighborhood.
They fanned out across the region, from the Inner Harbor to Harford County. They wrote about their experiences: the sights, smells, tastes and feels of the blocks they visited in early spring. Here are excerpts from their travel articles, as well as photos and audio they collected.
7800 block of Harford Road, Parkville, Maryland
By AC Spies
Saturday, April 6, noon
I sit on a green metal bench right next to a bus stop. It’s calm for a Saturday in April—about 50 degrees but with a slight breeze that makes it seem chillier. It’s mostly cloudy, but sometimes the sun peeks through the clouds for a momentary bit of warmth. In the distance, a dog barks. A breeze blows, and with it comes the almost overwhelming odor of marijuana followed by car exhaust.
Across the street is a Baptist church, outside of which is a man talking loudly on speakerphone to a woman. They’re discussing dinner plans. Next to the church is a small bakery called Enchanted Cakes & Treats Bakery. From the outside it doesn’t look too special; the exterior is a brown shingle material with number stickers above the glass door. The only designation that the building is a bakery is a bright pink sign above the front door with the title of the business on it in a flowy script. There’s a fake cake in the front window, and the store looks overall unassuming.
Once you step inside the store, the first thing one notices is the sudden aroma of vanilla cake. The floor is black tile with pink glitter swirls. It’s impossible to notice the big, glittery, pink wall that says “CAKE” in big, bold letters with a pink dragon to the right of the word. To the left is a large cupcake display case with several flavors of cupcakes: s’mores, Death by Chocolate, Reese’s, lemon and many more. Behind the case is a large mural of a wildflower field with a cherry blossom tree. The section of the store to the right is reminiscent of a Parisian cafe, with small pink metal tables surrounded by black metal chairs. There are four sets of these tables and chairs. In the archway separating the dining area from where the cupcake case is there is a faux tree trim covering the entire archway. On the arch is fake vines and glittery pink butterflies. In the dining area, adjacent to the cookie case is an ice cream freezer, behind which is a huge menu of milkshake flavors and other drinks like coffee.
Behind me the bell at the door rings. A man named Jason is here to pick up his cake order. Another couple comes in to look around and see what desserts are there. I walk up to the counter and order some cupcakes: lemon, s’mores, Boston creme and cookie dough. I also get a cotton candy flavored macaroon.
The farmers market down the street is closed. There is a tattoo supply shop across the street—also closed. The salon next door to the tattoo supply shop is open, and a mother and her daughter exit the salon and walk down the road to Dunkin Donuts. The store is warm and smells like coffee and pastries. While I wait for my order, I sit at a table. At an adjacent table, two young women are discussing babies with full heads of hair. Other people are waiting by the front counter for their orders to be completed. The pop radio station is playing softly over the speakers. Employees hurry around behind the counters to fulfill orders. The blender whirs to mix the drink I ordered. The mobile order machine rings to indicate someone placed a mobile order for pickup. There is also the sound of coffee beans being ground for freshly brewed coffee and espresso. The ovens beep, indicating an order is done heating up.
As I pick up my order, a couple comes in with their three children. They pick up their order and sit at the table next to mine. They begin discussing video games and such, but they don’t stay for long. I finish up my croissant and go back outside. I walk to where my car is parked, unlock it and sit inside.
400 block of Murdock Road, Towson, Maryland
By Beau Fighera
Monday, March 25, 5 p.m.
With the exception of the intersection with York Road, the vast majority of buildings on Murdock Road are houses and homes. The intersection is busy. On the west side of the street, the buildings are made of brown and red bricks, and the homes are for the most part connected, with occasional separators. The grass is very green, with many open fields and parks, and tree branches stretching across the sky. On the east side of Murdock Road, the houses are grand, and not connected. Many homes have flags and other decorations. Basketball hoops are all over the street.
What stands out most on this block is the sense of community and closeness of the people. As connected as the buildings are on the west side of Murdock Road, the people seem even more connected. There are countless groups of kids outside playing basketball and younger children walking around with their parents. Three young girls play in Little Tikes cars, hollering in their high-pitched whistling voices to each other. Middle-aged joggers run by. A mailman and resident converse about the weather. Just about every house has a dog. Many bark at me as I walk by.
Being in this neighborhood reminds me of my early childhood. Children running around, removed from digital technology. They are playing under a quilt, which they imagine is an airplane gliding them through the grass. It makes me think of when I was younger, playing basketball with kids in my neighborhood, chasing my friends to see who was fastest and having toy lightsaber fights with my friends. It’s good to see kids enjoying being outside with their friends, being creative with whatever is there for them to play with.
1000 block of York Road, Towson, Maryland
By Bodior Elliott
Tuesday, March 26, 5 p.m.
This block is framed by houses, the greyish red brick poking out from either side of the 24/7 CVS that sat in the middle. It’s a very cluttered aesthetic, surrounded by stores and larger, taller buildings in the distance. York Road is loud, and many stores on it have roundabouts that allow drivers to pull in and out without reversing.
One of the main things that stands out is not only the Goodwill across the street near the top of one of the hills, but also the exit that takes you onto 695. The whole block sort of has a triangle formation, and everything is car-centric. It’s not really built for pedestrians; most of the hills are super challenging to casually walk up. There are mostly mechanic shops, gas stations and even a rental shop. The Safeway is also quite prominent. The defining sound is honking cars. With wind in my face, it makes it hard to smell anything of note. A houseless woman is outside with her two kids holding up a sign. She has a shopping cart. I come here fairly regularly but this is my first time seeing her.
Inside the CVS, typical radio songs are playing—from Ed Sheeran to Taylor Swift. The top 100 blares on the slightly tinny speakers, with the occasional out-of-place Christmas decoration that it seems more trouble than it is worth to take down. In front of the black belt barriers, there’s usually a collection of magazines for Gen X and above, usually some aging Hollywood icon or the pregnancy announcement of some actress from a show my mom would put on back in 2006 before Oprah. Every once in a while, you get a good song from Whitney Houston.
It’s not like the block is bad or anything, but it’s usually just a sort of liminal space to me, a space that I’ve only ever thought of in the context of waiting to leave or going to buy something.
2200 Block of York Road, Timonium, Maryland
By Cayden Hagy
Tuesday, March 26, 5:30 p.m.
The Timonium Square parking lot is busy for a Tuesday. I pull into a spot in the back corner of the square located on the southwest end of the block. Behind is an Exxon gas station. A gentleman fills his silver sedan up while he is on his phone.
Walking over to a strip of stores in front, the aroma of fuel and smoke occupies this end of the square. Looking across the maze of cars, a mix of restaurants, boutiques and service stores are far away from where I stand. Loud music is blaring from cars passing the square and from the stores. A coincidental mashup of songs plays as I walk to the Staples at the end of the strip. “Ding, ding” rings as the door swings and an employee greets customers when they walk in. Music is subtle but hard to ignore as you walk through the aisles. Kesha’s “TiK ToK” is now stuck in my head.
Every store employee has their own signature greeting: “How many I serve you?” (Panera); “Is there something particular you have in mind?” (Levinson Rugs & Home); “What size are you?” (Stride Rite). It must be the weather that puts everyone in this joyful mood. The sun graces the square with a slight chill.
Three women are sipping on light-yellow drinks with dark shades over their faces. They laugh and bite into their sandwiches. The door outside of Panera rings and rings as people flow in and out of the restaurant. An empty GameStop sits at the end of the strip. Uptown Cheapskate is pumping with people walking out with bags of clothes. “Ding, ding” rings like it does for every door you enter in the square. “Do you have a member card or a phone number with us?” says an older gentleman behind the register on the left side of the shop. “Welcome,” a black-haired woman shouts from behind the register. Racks of clothes and tight spaces to navigate around in the store; this is not for those who get claustrophobic. After listening to the Black Eyed Peas shout, “let’s do it and do it” over the speaker for what seems like an eternity, I head out of the store back into the beautiful weather.
A man walks out of the Dollar Tree on his phone and says, “I ain’t paying that $70 on those tickets.” Orioles tickets, perhaps? I laugh as I walk past him and nearly hit the large cement blocked pole. Karma.
Timonium Square has something for everyone. You just have to be willing to venture out to look for it.
300 block of N. Main Street, Bel Air, Maryland
By Connor O’chuida
Monday, March 25, 2:30 p.m.
The business district in Bel Air has a lot to offer. The first thing I notice when leaving a hair salon is the delicious smell of freshly cooked pizza from Dominos. It distracts me for a split second from the hustle and bustle of busy pedestrians. I see a new blue Honda Accord traveling behind a beat-up, rusty pick-up truck. On the sidewalk, I feel the breeze coming off the speeding cars as they pass me by. I feel like I am wheeling down the side of a highway rather than a small-town road.
Directly across the street from me is a woman with dirty blond hair with brown streaks. It’s winter still, technically, but she’s in a bright, spring-like blue dress with small yellow flowers on it.
The streets are a mixture of homes and businesses—such as a law firm, dry cleaner, wedding gown shop and a small convenience store. Many are locally owned businesses. In the middle of all these small buildings is a huge white-and-red Shop Rite. This store seems out of place. There are two churches directly across the street from each other. One has big, bright red doors.
There is much more to see than I expected on the 300 block of N. Main St: residences, businesses, churches and lots and lots of traffic. It’s clear why this is one of the most popular streets to stroll down in Harford County.
1650 Block of Thames Street, Baltimore, Maryland
By Daniel Admasu
Monday, March 25, 1 p.m.
I walk this block once a month. It’s my favorite place to walk in Baltimore because of the variety of stores. The block is very laid back. I like interacting with employees, who are very kind.
This block stands out because of how it looks. The bricks on the road are oddly shaped, with many of them sticking out of the ground. The sidewalk is shaped in a diagonal position. A strand of lights connect from the beginning of the block to the end of it.
It’s a chilly March day, about 50 degrees as I step out onto the block. A gust of wind hits me. Two trucks stop in the middle of the road to deliver food to all of the restaurants on this block. The engines of those two trucks compare to the sound of loud construction on Interstate 95. Next to the two trucks is the Sound Garden music store. I walk inside, and the store manager greets me with a quick “hello.” I look through the store’s CD section while hearing “Where Eagles Dare” by Iron Maiden through the loudspeaker.
As I look through the CDs, a young female walks up to me and asks a question I thought I’d never hear from a stranger. She asks, “Are you on the radio?” I start to smile at her question, and I reply with, “Yes.” I ask her if she listens to Today’s 101.9, to which she loudly answers my question by saying, “Are you the traffic guy?” I begin to chuckle, and I give her a quick nod.
I walk across the street to an ice cream store called Kilwins Chocolates & Ice Cream. The store smells like chocolate and it’s freezing inside. Later, I enter The Spice & Tea Exchange Store, which smells like spice and grass. The store manager greets me and gives me a quick introduction to the store. She asks if I drink tea and I said that I’m more of a coffee person. We laugh and I ask her what time the store close, and she says “6:00 p.m.” I go to find my cup of coffee inside 7/11. I pour hazelnut coffee into my cup.
8000 block of York Road, Towson, Maryland
By Ethan Williams
Wednesday, March 29, 4 p.m.
I’ve always thought of Towson as the little sister of Baltimore. It’s a sprawling suburb, and York Road is the centerpiece. This is where people not only live but also get their education. I have lived in this area for the past three years of college, and I feel like I know all the cool spots and the interesting, mysterious areas.
As you walk down the block you can find a house that resembles the house that Harry Potter grew up in. From the early hours of the morning or the latest hour of the night, York Road always has action. One of the constant things that you can expect to hear is the hissing of the buses stopping to drop off students and the squeaking of crocs and flip flops that are making their way across the crosswalk to go to class.
Down the road, you will arrive at the busiest and liveliest place in town, Towson Town Center. Bars are typically filled to the brim with college students, and you can smell the scent of perfume and beer as you make your way down the block. There is your pick of cuisine and plenty of shopping. No matter where you walk in this area of the city, there are college students and other pedestrians everywhere you go.
When I chose Towson as the place where I wanted to study and live for the next four years of my life, I never thought that I would fall in love with this place as much as I have.
8000 block of Honeygo Boulevard, Baltimore, Maryland
By Evan Byrd
Monday, March 25, 7 p.m.
The Avenue at White Marsh is my go-to place for eating and having a relaxing night out. It’s a cool, breezy night, but people are still out. A couple sit on a red swing in pants and grey sweatpants, swinging back and forth enjoying and enjoying music playing on the speaker overhead.
Chili’s is packed. A boy no older than 5 takes a huge bite of his juicy cheeseburger. It looks so good that I want to go through the window and ask for a bite myself. Instead, we visit the Hallmark store, and we are the only customers inside. We encounter a middle-aged employee who is bald and wearing black glasses. He asks us nicely if we need help finding anything. He’s just glad to see people because it can get lonely waiting for customers.
I decide to check out a grey water fountain. Big red rocking chairs are nearby. We sit down and I swear the sound of the water flowing was a lot louder than I thought it could be. I assumed it would be like a stream of water flowing down the river. But instead, it is like we are at Niagara Falls. I can’t hear the music playing, but we stay for a while because of the relaxing view of the fountain and the trees in the background with different colored lights.
We get ice cream at Cold Stone. The dark wooden door makes me feel like I’m going to my grandma’s house. The line is filled with kids, including one who just came from soccer and has long, light-neon-yellow socks. He cannot wait to get his chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. I opt for chocolate chip cookie dough.
Outside, we hear a loud motorcycle noise coming from behind us; it’s teenagers on dirt bikes driving through the center of the Avenue. A white security car with yellow headlights drives past us to find them and get them to leave. We could see the driver talking into a walkie-talkie talking to other security guards to get the kids to leave safely. Because, after all, this is a family destination.
100 block of W. Susquehanna Avenue, Towson, Maryland
By Gracie Brocato
Monday, March 25, 6 p.m.
Every day, I make it a point to stroll down W. Susquehanna Ave, a serene escape from the bustling city life surrounding it. As I walk, the constant beeping of the pedestrian crosswalks echoes in the air, never failing to sound every 45 seconds. The sound of car tires screeching against the asphalt terrifies my small dog, Addison, sending her scurrying back to the safety of our apartment. She persistently tries to pull out of her bright pink harness decorated with vibrant red cherries on it.
We pass a small liquor store. Addison’s pupils grow bigger as she stares through its door where the sounds of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” flood from underneath. The shop owner is no stranger to her as he always keeps a bag of bone-shaped treats, MilkBones, (I presume I’ve never been able to see them up close as she inhales them) at her ready. With Addison’s snout focused on the treat, I am drawn to a little girl with pink bows tied tightly in her pigtails. She runs by, shouting the word “puppy” repeatedly with glee. Her dad, a few steps behind, lets her run ahead as this corner is relatively quiet compared to its counterparts.
We continue our walk to our destination with the soothing sounds of meditation music filling our ears, offering a stark contrast to the blaring Katy Perry song next door at the nail salon we now face. An employee dressed in all black stares out of the glass doors of the salon, the logo of the establishment just barely blocking her view, probably taking a break from her job and wishing to be outside. The salon is filled with fluorescent white appliances and walls, making the sunny Monday outside seem less bright in comparison.
As we walk past the last shop before reaching our destination, pop music plays once again. The music doesn’t flow from underneath the glass doors like its neighboring shops. The cozy burger joint adorned with warm bulbed string lights has its garage door propped open converting the small restaurant into an outdoor seating patio. The smell of burger grease fills my nose, making my mouth water in anticipation of a dinner I have not yet had. Today marks the first day in a while that the weather is pleasant enough for us to be outside comfortably.
We have finally reached our destination—a large hill of grassy area, rare to find in Towson, specifically meant for dogs. The sun shines perfectly, illuminating two benches in the middle of the hill surrounded by magenta flowerbeds and greenery. The tall buildings around the area seem to be framing the benches with sunlight, as the rest of the grassy area around it is cast in shadow. It’s almost as if the sun is guiding us to take a seat, asking for forgiveness for the past freezing days.
I unclip Addison’s matching cherry-themed leash from her harness. After a long day, running free is her favorite thing to do.
1300 block of Reisterstown Road, Pikesville, Maryland
By Jalon Dixon
Saturday, March 23, 10 a.m.
As the morning sun casts its golden hue over the quaint neighborhood of Hillendale, I pedal along Loch Raven Boulevard. The hum of construction machinery reverberates through the air, signaling the neighborhood’s ongoing evolution. Workers dawning vibrant orange jumpsuits scurry about, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine as they work tirelessly to breathe new life into the aging structures.
Amidst the sea of cars that fills the expansive parking lot, I find myself drawn to Dominican II, a budget-friendly barbershop. There I encounter a young man, decorated in the uniform of a day laborer, his gray “Kelly Landscaping and Lawn Care” shirt a stark contrast to the worn-out sneakers and sturdy jeans that spoke of countless hours spent drudging under the sun. As we wait, the rhythm of conversation flows freely between us, a testament to the camaraderie forged in unexpected circumstances.
I make my way to Planet Fitness, the pillar of the shopping center and a beacon for fitness in the neighborhood. As I step inside, the warm glow of fluorescent lights and the hum of activity greet me, offering relief from the chill of the brisk outdoors. Claire, the welcoming face behind the front desk, exudes a friendly demeanor beneath her Baltimore Ravens sweatshirt, a nod to both local pride and the gym’s inclusive atmosphere.
As Claire efficiently guides me through the check-in process, I can’t help but marvel at the vibrant yellow walls adorned with purple lettering, a color scheme that echo the spirit of the city. But it is the sight of rows upon rows of cardio equipment that truly define the space, a symphony of treadmills, ellipticals and steppers beckoning to those seeking solace in sweat. Amidst the rhythmic clang of weights and the steady thud of footfalls, Planet Fitness is not just as a gym, but as a sanctuary for those seeking both physical and mental rejuvenation.
Exiting the gym, I find myself engulfed by the familiar, yet rancid scent of sweat and the lingering traces of overpowering deodorant. Eager to escape the lingering odor, I swiftly gather my belongings and venture toward my final destination: Stokos. Amidst the lively symphony of Latin music and the chatter of multiple TV screens broadcasting a myriad of topics, I find solace in the familiar sounds of sizzling grills, bubbling oil, the clanging of change from each cash transaction and the chopping of lettuce and tomato.
I order my go-to menu item: the pancake platter. Later, I gather my belongings, my footsteps echoing softly on the pavement as I make my way towards the exit. As I push open the door, the familiar chime announces my departure.
900 block of W. 36th Street, Baltimore, Maryland
By Jonah Lewis
Friday, March 29, 5 p.m.
It’s evening when I arrive to 36th Street in Hampden. The Baltimore cultural enclave, surrounded by parks, sits perched like a bird upon a hill. It is a hub for artists and dilettantes, especially its most famous street, affectionately known as “The Avenue.”
I make my way to Frazier’s on the Avenue, a dive-y sort of gastropub that peddles burgers and beer, both of which I am seeking. I sit down at the bar, where the clacking of billiard balls can be heard in the background while Family Feud plays over the loudspeakers. I order a Zadie’s Lager, the kind of beer that cools you off on a day that feels like the devil opened the gates to hell.
I order a burger with a fried egg and an onion ring on it, which has become a trademark of my burger consumption. After Family Feud, it’s time for Jeopardy! I struggle to get the answers correct since I can barely hear the audio over the talk in the bar, which is unusual for me given my proficiency in trivia.
A man named Tom, who sips Miller Lite from a pale white can, tells me about a game involving rolling dice for a pot made up of the profits from drink sales. I thought I would give it a try, but the six die came up nix: only two matching die, and they were twos instead of the sixes I would have needed to at least win something.
A Royal Farms sits on the corner of Roland and 36th, a stark contrast of corporate America with the small businesses on the block. The blue and green of its marquee sticks out like a sore thumb among blander storefronts. The store is larger than your typical corner store but doesn’t sell gas like many other Royal Farms. I slip in to record some audio of the slushy machines, which hum and whirr with a distinct monotone.
Coming out of the convenience store, night has fallen. I’m wandering the streets taking pictures of storefronts, occasionally going into a place to record some audio. I see a space where I played a show once, Holy Frijoles. It’s a Mexican spot with a bar, which is the main attraction for most people. There’s no live music tonight, but a man plays pinball in the spot where I once plucked my bass for The Dead Ringers, a garage band from Essex.
Next to Frijoles is an Afghan restaurant called Kandahar, referencing the city in Afghanistan. The place is upscale, clean and white and filled with people. I sit in an isolated corner, collecting my audio then leaving for my car. At last, my journey had ended, and I returned across town to my apartment in Mt. Holly.
Reflecting on my trip, I could see myself returning to The Avenue often. I like the neighborhood of Hampden a lot, because it has everything good about Baltimore in a small, close-knit community. The bars are cheap, it’s more walkable than other parts of the city, there are restaurants and shops as far as the eye can see and there’s even more to explore than just this one block.
3200 block of Foster Avenue, Baltimore, Maryland
By Kate Heilig
Friday, March 29, 11:30 a.m.
I walk down Foster Avenue in the quaint and hip neighborhood of Canton, located in Baltimore City. It is a rainy day. The smell of wet pavement and must from the dewy sidewalks is strong as I hear the light rain droplets bounce off the puddles in the narrow streets. The city is blooming with the presence of spring on every corner as white pedals are falling from branches, sticking on the hood of every car, the bottoms of my shoes and plastered to every brick on the ground.
I head to the neighborhood’s square. The houses lining the street are beautiful. The rustic brick makes the decorative teal, purple and pink doors stand out strongly. Lights are hung on the sidewalk from every front door, strung in a pattern. Through windows of the homes, I see Easter decor with pastel colors hung up for neighbors to see. Flowerpots made from pebbles and glass are sitting on the windowsills, growing daffodils and daisies inside them. Vibrant yellow tulips align the sidewalks in the fresh mulch. I hear flags whipping in the slight breeze, as the sound of city chatter and commotion loams ahead.
An old church welcomes me—all brick, with a big, wooden double door. A large structure at the top of the church contains a bell. Nearby, shops, bars and restaurants surround a small park with benches in the center.
I see workers setting up plates and rearranging tables inside the bar Mamas. Rain drips down the navy-blue awnings that drape over the bar’s windows. I smell fresh seafood cooking that has the aroma of salty oysters and friend crabcakes. I see the bartender stocking the fridge with beer, in preparation for happy hour that is only a few hours away. A neon Miller Lite sign looms through one of the doors, reflecting a light blue hue off the wet ground.
Pale colors of pastel pink and baby blue adorn Cafe Dear Leon. From the outside I see string lights hung from the ceiling as well as paper mache stars peeking through the window. People are casually sipping coffee and eating scones as they also are watching the rain drizzle down. Cactuses and other plants are aesthetically pleasing to look at from the outside as it makes the vibe of the cafe seem boho and warmly welcoming.
The shop Best Day Ever is so enticing that I just have to go in. The shop welcomes you first with their window that says, “There are always flowers for those who want to see them” in a light teal font boarded by cartoon flowers. As you walk in, there are two options, a door with trinkets to the left, and a door with stylish clothes to the right. I enter the left first; a worker welcomes me by saying hello. The store is quiet, as no music plays to fill any background noise. The only sounds I can hear are the sounds of me fidgeting with the festive wine glasses stocked on the shelves and the sound of the worker packaging boxes.
As I leave the shop and make my way back to my sister’s house on Foster Avenue, the cuffs of my pants begin to sag with water as they slosh with every step. The rain slowly begins to halt and the sun peers through a thin layer of fog. The city is now more alive as people are dressed in athleisure going for an afternoon stroll. Shops are now open for business as workers wipe off wet tables and prop open umbrellas.
400 block of Water Street, Baltimore, Maryland
By Kobe Cuprill
Friday, March 24, 3:45 p.m.
The Inner Harbor is a special place on a beautiful afternoon. It’s a vibrant and distinctive area. In the middle of a tiny street is a photography studio, with all-white walls and a narrow hallway. This studio seems to be the only building with bright lights in the lobby. I walk right and see lights strung between various restaurants. Bricks here are cracked and chipped, a sign of age in this historic neighborhood.
A water fountain is turned off, and kids between the ages of 7-10 are running around in their Marvel T-shirts. I feel as if I am walking through a park. As I continue my walk, I see a 45-foot-wide metal sign spelling out “Power Plant.” You can smell the mixture of chicken tenders and beer. The mixture of gray and red brick tile tops captures the eye, and the Neon signs are like ones hung up in Las Vegas.
The fortress known as the Port Discovery Children’s Museum is nearby. The glass doors are so bright I can see my reflection. The green water of the Baltimore Harbor is never far away. Neither are kids. They are excited as an ice cream truck dives by.
The sounds of Rihanna play at a restaurant serving brunch. A Jackson Five song plays as well. A mysterious, large white savior ship dazzles in the distance. Tourists are taking photos of the massive ship. People are on orange and black scooters.
The colossal Institute of Marine and Environmental Technology shines in the sun. Giant blue lettering and an abstract metal figure displaying a fish are visible. The smell of fresh seafood is palpable. What stands out about this part of Baltimore is the natural beauty and the man-made structures.
500 Block of E. Pratt Street, Baltimore, Maryland
By Maritza Falchetti
As I drive down E. Pratt Street, I admire the city skyline, skyscrapers and the mixed scent of steak, burgers and Mexican food. I roll my windows down to take in the essence of downtown Baltimore. I like this block because it’s lively, calm and visually attractive.
On this 40 degree Thursday afternoon, the sun shines across Baltimore’s Inner Harbor as parents take their kids to get ice cream and see the city’s main attraction, the Baltimore’s National Aquarium. A middle-aged father walks down the street with his twin daughters as they skip and hold hands in pink matching outfits. “Daddy, we’re going to see dolphins!” one shouts. Several teenagers in sweatsuits and black backpacks sit inside the Chipotle at the end of the block cracking jokes.
This block has dozens of businesses—fast food chains, five-star restaurants, pharmacies, clothing stores, ice cream shops—and a lot of things going on at once. Think of a city block in Manhattan but only a half of that block. There’s a busy CVS at the corner. Across the street, in front of the Capital Grille, there are statues of two green male lions that are almost black from dirt they have collected over the years.
As I walk into the busy Chipotle Mexican Grill, I hear Taylor Swift playing loudly throughout the fast-food restaurant along with groups of teenagers laughing and eating their bowls near the entrance. To my surprise the line is empty, and the workers seem happy to be at work. Aside from the eager high schoolers at the front of the store, the restaurant is filled with several pairs of people quietly enjoying their food.
Across the street is Luckies, a local coffee and ice cream shop. The scent of sweet vanilla, rich chocolate, fresh fruit and coffee beans fills the room. The vibrant turquoise walls with handmade signs make the shop feel family run.
The smell of seafood is hard to miss all over this block. It’s especially strong outside a restaurant with waterfront directly next to the iconic Aquarium, the block’s main attraction. The massive glass building takes a major portion of the block. The yellow, red and black Maryland flag flies high outside of the Aquarium. Horns honk, wind blows, kids smile and tourists roam. This is downtown Baltimore’s tourist centerpiece.
100 Block of Burke Avenue, Towson, Maryland
By Sophie Dor
Monday, March 25, 3:15 p.m.
I walk down Burke Avenue on a sunny, breezy afternoon. The blue sky and the greenery of the trees and grass mix well. The street is filled with white houses that all look similar at first glance but have noticeable differences. They share the same white wood lining, but one house has a brick chimney and another has a rock chimney that looks like a rock-climbing wall. A different house has grey accents while the one next to it has brown accents.
As I walk along the road, I stop at a 100-year-old establishment, Radebaugh Florist & Greenhouses. The green, yellow and blue sign has withstood the test of time. Its antique lettering can only be changed by hand. “Since 1924” is spelled in green and placed in the smallest corner of the sign, showing its age. A small wooden white hand-painted sign reads, “The Market All Local Goods, Meat, Cheese, Ice Cream and More.”
I walk into the greenhouse and am instantly greeted with an array of colors of the flowers. Pink, orange, purple and green flowers are all on display as the shop prepares for Easter. A customer hauls a cart around analyzing what flowers to pick for their garden. Another customer takes a feel of the flowers. I walk further back, and the open window-paneled ceiling shines down on the flowers as I walk in. The vibrant colors overshadow the natural greenery of flowers.
Molly, a manager who has been at the store for 40 years, assures me that in a couple of weeks, it will be a madhouse in the greenhouse. She details how the century-old establishment is run by a father and daughter duo and explains how much the greenhouse serves the community. She says she was a regular buyer before she started to work there. As I talk to her, I notice the functional mess behind her. The “employees only” area is only marked by a line of green tape on the floor and the faint white paint on the floor that once read “for employees only.”
I walk around the different greenhouses, and the temperature changes are noticeable. One greenhouse is as hot as a sauna while the other is room temperature with the help of the large fans whose blades make noise heard throughout the other rooms. The fresh smell of the newly sprouted buds of flowers is delightful. It makes me feel like I’m in a movie where the main character is running through a field of flowers while smiling and being happy about life.
As I make my way out of the greenhouses, I walk to the storefront near the store sign. I’m greeted with a bell that is attached to a blue string on the door that alerts the store worker someone has arrived. A man in a grey shirt and blue jeans says hello with a smile as he awaits his order at the front desk.
As I walk back toward where I started, I feel peaceful. Houses are situated perfectly on the road, surrounded by greenery. This stretch of Burke Avenue is one where I would love to live.
1600 block of Thames Street, Baltimore, Maryland
By Theo Velasquez-Arreaga
Monday, March 25, 4:30 p.m.
Driving on a smooth asphalt road, my blue Honda Accord suddenly becomes shaky as I drive over a cobblestone street. That’s how I know I’ve arrived at Fells Point. It’s a weekday afternoon, which means it’s less busy than it often is in this popular neighborhood. It’s 54 degrees, the sun is out and there’s a slight breeze.
Walking over to sit by the water, I see a five-story building with “BOND STREET WHARF” painted through the right side of the third and fifth floor in olive green and clay red. The seagulls are squawking, an old man is sitting in a bench next to his scooter, couples are walking hand-in-hand and people are out enjoying their jogs and walking their dogs.
Back on Thames Street, cars are lined up. White cherry blossom trees are blooming. Birds are chirping. Spring is really here. The street itself and the buildings on it give this block a Colonial look. Almost every building is made of brick, and it’s only the first floor of almost every building that has a completely different style and makeup depending on the type of establishment utilizing that space.
My first pitstop is the furniture shop Su Casa. The store’s homey environment, packed with modern home furniture and décor, makes it feel like I am apartment shopping. Tall fancy mirrors, some etched with their own intricate design, stand on almost every corner of the store. Picture frames of Baltimore’s maps, locations of the city and crabs are plastered on the walls.
Walking a few stores down, I stop by Kilwins, a chocolate and ice cream shop where the aroma of sweets seeps through my mask and into my nose. A family of four is checking out as I’m staring at the store’s array of chocolates. With easter around the corner they have a selection of white and dark chocolate bunnies.
I walk out before I can spend any money and walk into The Spice & Tea Exchange store where I’m immediately overwhelmed with a waft of spices and seasonings. A green wall full of teas and sugars, another half-white and half-red wall is lined up spices and herbs, peppers and all types of salts. The friendly employee fills me in on the mix of spices I can combine that they can package for me. A wooden shelf in the middle of the store full of spice blends, Korean BBQ Rub, Adobo, Jamaican Jerk, Carne Asada and the list goes on.
Next to an art installation is my favorite record store, The Sound Garden. An employee checks out a customer over a glass counter full of bright-colored green, orange and pink pipes and bongs. An overhead sign reads “PLEASE CHECK YOUR BAGS.” To my right there’s a CD rack full of new releases where I catch Shakira’s new album Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran.
There’s also a candle stand full of prayer candles with the faces of artists such as Sade, Amy Winehouse, Rihanna and Ice T, to name a few. This store never misses. Its high ceiling and walls are plastered with merch, pictures from artists who’ve visited the store and a large black record stands on the top of a bookshelf.
One reason I love coming to this block is that I like to image I’d live here in the near future. One thing about Baltimoreans is that they’re proud of being from Baltimore, and no other place exemplifies this other than Fells Point.