Nicole Bengiveno/The New York Times Moment to remember: Becky Goldberg and Andy Siln captured their Valentineâs Day date at a special sewage plant tour for lovers in Brooklyn on Thursday. David Nelson had a Valentineâs Day surprise for his girlfriend. He was so excited, however, he let his intentions slip during dinner the night before.
âHe spilled the beans,â said his girlfriend, Heather Weed, a 25-year-old civil engineer who was dressed for the holiday on Thursday in a red-and-pink-striped sweater and red shoelaces. âBut we had talked about it before,â Mr. Nelson, an urban planner, ointed out a little defensively.
No, it wasnât a marriage proposal. It was a tour of New York Cityâs Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.
The couple, who share a cozy one-bedroom in Bedford-Stuyvesant, held hands during a lecture on the five steps of sewage treatment. (âHereâs the magic,â Jim Pynn, the plant superintendent, said of Step 3: âBiological treatment.â) Afterward, they took in the city views from the observation deck atop one of the giant stainless steel âdigester eggs,â where sludge is stabilized during a 15-day process.
Love was certainly in the air on Thursday. Or was that the sewage
For scores of New Yorkers who wanted to mark Valentineâs Day without the usual hearts and flowers, the cityâs Department of Environmental Protection had just the token of affection. For the se! cond year in a row, it offered free tours of the Newtown Creek plant, the largest of its 14 wastewater treatment facilities.
Nicole Bengiveno/The New York Times What could be more romantic To some, the tours proved as irresistible as a dark chocolate truffle. Citing demand, the department added a third 75-person tour at the last minute; all three were filled to capacity. âItâs a unique way to spend Valentineâs Day, but itâs also a great opportunity to learn about the wastewater process,â a department spokesman, Christopher Gilbride, said.
But the day was not entirely about catch basins and combined sewer overflows. The complex in some ways resembles a gleaming work of sculpture, with its eightegg-like pods visible for miles.
The plant, which dates back to 1967, has undergone a $5 billion overhaul in recent years and was honored by the New York City Art Commission. At night, the eggs are bathed in blue light, the handiwork of the lighting designer Hervé Descottes.
There is even a visitor center where an exuberant fountain courses through the lobby. Those elements appealed to the urban planner in Mr. Nelson, if not the romantic. âItâs not only a great public investment infrastructure,â he said. âItâs a great public space.â
Using a PowerPoint presentation, Mr. Pynn traced the history of wastewater treatment from the cityâs earliest days to the present. Now, the city treats more than 1.3 billion gallons of wastewater daily, from toilets, washing machines, sinks and, when it rains, storm water. The treatment plants, Mr. Pynn said, remove â94 percent of the pollutant load,â far exceeding the requirements of the Clean Water Act.
Nicole Bengiveno/The New York Times Indoors and out, the treatment plant abounds with beguiling views.
Talk of sewage works in mysterious ways. As the tour moved up to the observation deck, some couples seemed to stand a little closer.
As Mr. Pynn expounded on the giant propeller that circulates three million gallons of sludge inside each digester egg, Shawn Killebrew, a television editor, leaned in to kiss his wife, Courtenay Kendall, a TV producer.
Knowing that his wife scoffs at Valentineâs Day, Mr. Killebrew had simply asked her to take the day off from work. She still did not know where they were going as he led her from the subway to the treatment plant.
âI told him I would run f there was one ounce of romance,â she said after the tour. âThis beats dinner in a restaurant any day.â
Then why all the snuggling âWhen itâs an unromantic situation, we get romantic,â Mr. Killebrew said.
For Joseph Szabo, who works as a machinist for the Department of Environmental Protection in Red Hook, Brooklyn, the tour was a way to share something of his occupation with his wife of 20 years, Erika.
She more than rose to the occasion. âItâs gorgeous,â she said. âItâs unbelievable. I would never think this was romantic, but it is.â
Not everyone was so lucky in love. Jose Fernandez, a 30-year-old filmmaker visiting from Mexico, had arranged to take the tour with his girlfriend, an art student in Manhattan. But she canceled at the last minute, saying she had a class. Jilted at the plant, he went on the tour alone.
Mr. Fernandez was trying not to let his disappointment show. âIâm meeting her for lunch,â he said. âAnd I took a lot of pic! tures.â!
Nicole Bengiveno/The New York Times Pipes full of wastewater gleamed against an azure sky. It was a beautiful day.