There are neighbourhoods measured in square metres and neighbourhoods measured by which names live there. Tribeca, in lower Manhattan, belongs to the second type - one of New York's most exclusive corners, where the address is worth as much as a status symbol.

Tribeca's story is a textbook case of how luxury is born. In the 19th and 20th centuries this was an industrial zone of warehouses and markets. Then it fell into decline. In the sixties and seventies it was discovered by artists and photographers, who turned the cheap loft spaces into studios and homes. From that bohemian phase, through the eighties and nineties, today's elite neighbourhood sprang up. The same pattern we see everywhere: the artists come first, the prices chase them later.

Today names like Beyoncé and Taylor Swift live here, and the architecture still carries its industrial soul - cast-iron and brick buildings turned into some of the most expensive square metres on the planet. The Staple Street footbridge and Washington Market Park are among the neighbourhood's recognisable images.

Life here balances between luxury and local colour. Independent cafés like Gotan and Laughing Man Café, restaurants like Locanda Verde and Frenchette, the park along the Hudson River with Pier 25. And of course, the Tribeca Film Festival, founded by Robert De Niro - culture packaged as a brand.

For the Balkan reader, Tribeca is at once a dream and a warning. A dream - because it's a picture of a life you save for your whole life. A warning - because it's exactly what happens to our old, characterful neighbourhoods once they're "discovered": first the artists and the cafés, then the investors, and in the end the neighbourhood is no longer for the people who made it desirable.