that the movie got so many facts wrong,
and that the two protagonists were
made-up characters. “All my classmates
at school suddenly were interested in
this thing that was a very personally
nerdy obsession for me,” he said.
After college, Taillon processed death
claims for a funeral-insurance company
to save money to move to New York,
where he got a corporate position at
Ralph Lauren. When he was furloughed,
during the pandemic, it seemed like a
sign. To fill his days, he decided to walk
every street in Manhattan, a distance of
around a thousand miles. He narrated
the walks on Instagram. “People around
the world who were in lockdown were
watching my stories and feeling like they
were on vacation,” he said. His follow-
ing grew, and now he’s making a living
out of his passion, having been hired by
the Fifth Avenue Association to write
essays about the thoroughfare for its bi-
centennial celebration, in 2024.
After marching past the Cartier Build-
ing, at 653 Fifth Avenue, constructed as
a private home by an heir to a Florida
railroad empire and, as legend has it,
traded to Cartier in 1917 for a strand of
pearls, Taillon reached the site of the fic-
tional Russell house, on Sixty-first Street.
(The spot is currently occupied by the
Pierre Hotel, whose ground-floor restau-
rant faces a plastic surgeon’s office.) He
gestured toward Central Park, which in
“The Gilded Age” appears as a wall of
foliage; in the eighteen-eighties, he said,
it would have been a few scraggly young
trees. “To have so many people intro-
1
LONDONPOSTCARD
MINDFULNESSZONE
W
hen the daily commute suddenly
disappeared for millions of of-
fice workers, some were jubilant, oth-
ers bereft. Many mourned the loss of a
buffer, of time to read or decompress.
(It’s difficult to finish a crossword on
the 8:30 express to the kitchen table.)
Some tried to re-create their commutes
by putting on headphones, or squeez-
ing into the shower fully dressed with
a magazine. But most people adapted;
there were perks to working from home.
Things were slower, quieter. Other peo-
ple’s armpits were rarely an issue. You
could Zoom from bed if you wanted.
You could buy fancy pajamas and wear
them all day.
In London, where W.F.H. guidelines
have eased following Omicron’s retreat,
the commute may be poised for a come-
back. Bosses miss their workers. Work-
ers miss their colleagues. But does any-
one miss the train? The numbers are notencouraging. National Rail ridership
stands at sixty-four per cent of its pre-
pandemic level. (The New York metro-
politan area has fared even worse: com-
muter railroads have seen only around
half of riders return.) Railways are court-
ing customers. Like lovers trying to win
back exes, they are promising change.
This time, things will be different. Some
British services are offering freebies: au-
diobooks, hot drinks, bacon rolls. They
have pledged to reduce the number of
annoying announcements. Grant Shapps,
the Transport Secretary, has called for a
“bonfire of the banalities,” to make jour-
neys “that little bit more peaceful.”
Not long ago, on the Docklands Light
Railway, known as the D.L.R., a net-
work of trains in East London, photos
of trees and calming beach scenes began
appearing, alongside a sign: “The Inner
Journey Zone: Pause Relax Reconnect.”
The Inner Journey program, the brain-
child of the mental-health charity You-
manity, aims to turn “commuting on the
D.L.R. into a journey of inner balance,
self-confidence and mindfulness.” Med-
itation corners have been set up in three
busy London stations. Riders can down-
load an app with guided meditation
tracks while waiting for a train. And,
scattered among the normal train cars—
hectic, crammed—are twelve “mindful-
ness carriages,” whose walls and ceilings
have been wrapped in pictures of the
natural world and inscribed with quo-
tations. (Oscar Wilde: “To love oneself
is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”)
Just before a recent rush hour, An-
gelo Iudice, the founder of Youmanity,
stopped by an Inner Journey Zone at
the Canary Wharf station, Platform 4.
Inner Journey has four thematic itera-
tions: Ocean, Mountains, Forest, and
Countryside. Iudice, a genial British
Italian, took a seat on a Forest bench,
surrounded by images of trees. He was
wearing a peacoat and a beanie. Trains
arrived every few minutes. “There’s been
quite a lot of anxiety about going back
to work,” he said. He pointed out the
photos of grass on the floor. “What we’re
trying to do is encourage passengers to
really take a step back, to relax, to enjoy
one’s own company. If we can create
scenes that are evocative of nature, or
well-being, you’re going to maybe enjoy
your journey a little better.”
“I’ve actually been here awhile—I just can’t grow a beard.” He cited a study showing that merelyduced to Gilded Age society and the
fight between old and new New York
through, you know, fake characters and
slightly incorrect locations,” he said, sigh-
ing. “I’m not angry by any means. It’s
just frustrating.”
—Sheelah Kolhatkar