Nice to pass through, but not hang around in. My memories of it may be clouded by two things, though: the first night I got to New York, we came in through Penn Station and all I can remember is getting out onto the street and smelling salami; secondly, the night we were leaving was the day after the big blackout and everything was late and everybody was tired and there was nowhere to sit down so I planted myself on the ground, curled up with a book, and abdicated responsibility for watching for our train to my mom.