East Coast Explorations - Part 1 - New York

In May 2011, a small windfall from the discovery of two dead aunts we didn't know existed and no will dictating the distribution of funds, left us with the means to take a trip. The east coast immediately called, and we booked our tickets to cross the entire United States. I've discovered that when travelling, it is entirely worth writing down every little event, nuisance, or hilarity for later reminiscence. So, for this blog series, I've decided to gather my jumble of notes from the trip and organize them into a coherent story as a way to better remember our experiences. And as a travel enthusiastic, there's nothing better than looking back and awakening the sense of wanderlust all over again.

Day 1:

Seats are buckled, trays are up, engines are running, and everything is ready for takeoff. That is everything but the kid sitting directly behind us. As the plane ascends, the screaming little boy’s voice simultaneously soars in volume. “Mommy!” was squealed an indiscriminate number of times, with an increase in pitch and volume every blasted minute. Heads turned and eyes rolled until the child finally, shut up. Luckily, San Francisco sourdough and, later, pizza in the Baltimore hotel, helped wipe clean the exasperation of the day and get us ready for our 12 day adventure on the east coast...

Day 2:

We wake up only to discover the parentals have vanished from the room. Reason said they should have been back with the rental car by now, so a quick phone call determines that they have the car but are now haphazardly driving around, lost, and as we speak, their phone dies. Ah the pitfalls of parents and technology, you let them out of your sight for a few seconds and all hell breaks loose. Luckily, they eventually show up with the car and we cram in the backseat like clowns in a mini cooper, pointed north towards the great NYC. We drive through Maryland and New Jersey until finally hitting the Lincoln Tunnel, taking us directly into downtown Manhattan. Cost of tolls getting there: $35. Cost of seeing the New York Times building and Times Square as we emerge: priceless.

After exiting  the Lincoln Tunnel, we stumbled on a parking garage mere blocks from Times Square, get out, fix everyone’s shoes (inserts, band aids and other podiatry paraphernalia) and set out. Stomachs immediately call for lunch, and we find a nearby Grey’s papayas where hotdogs, mango and papaya drinks are ravenously consumed. After exploring an inordinate amount of tourist locations, we found ourselves limping along 5th avenue after 5 miles of walking, when a obviously wealthy elderly woman stops us with a twinkle in her eye and a look of adulation on her face: "You're children are so pretty!" she exclaims, focusing on Nathan and Kate. " Theyse skin, ees so perfect!" My best guess is she was from Sweden, emigrated here in the 1920's, and was now excited to find other fellow Scandinavian ancestral human beings. But who knows. 

Also worth noting, Dad swiped his Metro card on the wrong side and gets stuck on the outside not once, but a whopping total of 4 times during the trip, prompting us to compassionately laugh our faces off as he stands there, us securely on the right side of the gate, him scanning the area to make sure it's clear of security before nimbly leaping the barrier like a graceful gazelle. Once safely through, we made our way out to Queens where a snazzy hotel in a not-so-snazzy location provided respite so we could all find ourselves ready to venture back into the Big Apple the following morning...

Day 3.

With the sun hidden behind a cluster of grey clouds, we were ready for the third day of our Manhattan adventures, starting with an uneasy walk to Queensboro Station. Deserted streets in the early morning with a hotel next to low-income government housing doesn’t make one 100% comfortable wandering Queens looking for the metro, but I digress. Once we found the station, we joined the regulars on their morning commute into the city, and disembarked near the Staten Island Ferry. While waiting for the magic hour boarding time, a small, unassuming door beckoned our empty stomachs with compelling promotional signs. This spot would turn out to be the best café in the history of our trip. So that’s what a New York style deli is like. That’s it, we’re moving. After spending an inane amount of time trying to decide on what exactly to eat, choices finally included the greatest pesto chicken sandwich ever eaten and decadent chocolate cheesecake. Lunch conversations involved chatting with a traffic cop and two Brits visiting from London (I had to fight down the urge to flash my tardis shirt at them…)

And now it was time for the free Staten Island ferry in order to see the beautiful skyline. Conversations aboard the ferry however, weren’t quite as glamorous. Favorite line? “I want to run around my house buck-ass naked but I can’t cuz there’s effing people there!”  After the entertaining ferry ride, we walked up to the financial district, which was eerily empty and quite. Heard stereotypical construction workers arguing on the street corner. Gawked at Grand Central Station and Central Park. 

On the way back to our hotel, a little kid and his dad on four wheelers come screeching down the sidewalk, in the middle of Long Island city without a hint of warning. Either they were joy-riding or fleeing from the mob. Not sure which. We then piled in the car and headed out towards Connecticut, encountering major traffic on the way. Cars were literally speeding backwards on the freeway in order to get out of the traffic. Traffic laws must be like the pirate code; more of guidelines than actual rules. We finally made it to Milford, CT, which was a little sketch, and  our hotel was bare bones minimum. As in not even a mini, ineffective blow dryer built into the wall. A late night stop at taco bell where Bens’ refried beans were solid ended the day in a fitting manner...