Across 110th Street, Bobby Womack (1972) or where we learn not to believe everything we hear in popular song

What did I know about Harlem? Well not a lot. I'd seen American Gangster, Malcolm X and the Cotton Club. I'd read Malcolm X's biography and I knew the Bobby Womack song. What did I glean from that? Lawlessness, danger and zoot suits- but not necessecarily in that order. To be fair there was an element of truth in that,when passing through immigration control the officer took a look at the address on our customs card and quizzically asked "Is that a hotel?" He then went on tell us he'd been a police officer there 10-12 years ago and if they'd seen a tourist there in those days they assumed it was an accident and quickly drove them south of 96th st- But Harlem is changing, $700,000-$1 Million will buy you a 4 storey house where Midtown it would get you a two bedroom apartment. Some residents have turned these properties into guesthouses, beautiful period properties (Our landlord has held onto the period feel, each room decorated in artfully shabby fashion with a jazz theme)- This gentrification has brought a different tension. The rife crime has disappeared, but locals are being pushed further North by midtowners keen to acquire sizeable chunks of real estate. What is obvious though is the real sense of community, people sit on their stoop watching the world going by but also seem genuinely interested in speaking to passers by whether they know them or not. Community gardens ensure empty space is practically used and local community groups strive to ensure newcomers to the neighbourhood quickly get to know others in their community. So whilst (particularly at night) it can still feel a little edgy, when I did get across 110th St I found a real welcome.