Go to Coney Island in April and you'll find shrieking toddlers building sandcastles while their parents stare out into the waves. The benches of the boardwalk will be lined with elderly couples, soaking up the wavering spring sunshine. Elsewhere, in the line for the hotdogs, local teenagers flirt and joke with each other as they debate the merits of coleslaw over onions.

Photo: Me-myself-I

Ninety years ago Russian writer Maxim Gorky wrote of the sinister charms of “dazzling, magnificent Coney Island”, a place where “people wander about in the flashing, blinding fire intoxicated and devoid of will.” Sounds like good times to me. But almost a century later, the hedonistic thrills of this Brooklyn seaside resort are under threat. The developers are moving in, and local residents have launched a Save Coney Island campaign to stop its historic Amusement District turning into beach-front condos.

Photo: Lornagrl

I decided to take the subway all the way down to the Coney Island Stillwell Avenue stop (D,N,F or Q lines) to check out the ‘hood’s' seedy glamour for myself. While summer crowds still flock to drink beer by the beach and to ride the iconic (and terrifyingly rickety) Cyclone rollercoaster, Coney Island off-season is an eerie, otherworldly place.

It feels like a film-set that has been half-dismantled. Hand-painted lettering encouraging you to ‘Shoot the Freak’ dangle forlornly over a decimated lot.

My first priority was to get my chops around one of Nathan's Famous frankfurters. Opened in 1916, Nathan’s hosts the annual Hot Dog Eating Competition. Last year’s winner managed 55 dogs in 10 minutes – something to chew over as you join the queues of hungry punters.

Next I headed to the boardwalk, an elegant wooden promenade that runs for miles along the shore. On one side you can see the (now sadly mostly defunct) theme-park, Astroland, while on the other hardy kite surfers and courting couples compete for control of the beach.

One local attraction that is definitely thriving is the impressive Aquarium, where sharks, sea-lions and a baby walrus replace the circus freaks as the star turns.

Photo: Flickmor

Coney Island had one last surprise in store for me. Walking further North-West the American voices began to thin out and all the conversations, menus and newspapers were suddenly in Russian. I’d hit Brighton Beach, one of the city’s most thriving Soviet enclaves, where you can pick up caviar from one of the kiosks that line the main drag, Brighton Beach Avenue, or browse the Russian language titles in St Petersburg Books. This 'hood', which feels more like the Mother Country than the Big Apple, marked the end of my Coney Island odyssey. I’ll be back in June for the annual Mermaid Parade and some good old-fashioned intoxication.

Go Further: Take a walk with Victor Ozols on Manhattan's Lower East Side or go Snacking on Grand Street with John Rambow.