Travel day is always fun for us. Even though I%26#39;ve flown I don%26#39;t know how many tens of thousands of miles I still hate it. I%26#39;m afraid of flying and I%26#39;m claustrophobic. Scott has something called restless leg syndrome which makes squishing into those tiny little seats miserable for him. He has medication for it but I won%26#39;t let him take it. It%26#39;s a sedative and I need that boy awake to protect me when the plane crashes. I also tend to worry obsessively that we%26#39;ll miss the flight. Mostly I just drink when I have to fly. Scott%26#39;s okay with this since otherwise he%26#39;ll have to spend the entire flight listening to ';What%26#39;s that noise?'; ';Are we supposed to bounce around this much?'; ';What time is it?'; ';Did you hear that?';
We had an afternoon flight so Scott went into work while I stayed home and packed for both of us. I love packing. I own whole books dedicated to packing. I am the pack-meister. Most of my wardrobe is on the floor of the bedroom but Martha Stewart herself would be proud of the inside of our suitcases. The rest of the morning was spent admonishing the kids (They%26#39;re both home on college break.) about what was expected of them during our absence. The big issue here is my father in law. He has Alzheimer%26#39;s and Sam (my oldest) and I are his caregivers. This week Lizzie (the youngest) will have to fill in and she%26#39;s just not used to it. It takes certain tolerance for chaos to deal with PaPa, kind of like living Through the Looking Glass but with adult diapers. You also need to be able to handle the tedium of never leaving the house. Liz is an active, busy sort of girl and I%26#39;m more than a little worried that she%26#39;ll go stir crazy but it%26#39;s either trust her or stay home.
Scott makes it home early and we leave the house with time to spare. This makes me really happy because we have an hour%26#39;s drive over the Lake Ponchatrain spillway to get to the airport. The problem with a spillway is that if any little traffic mishap should occur you could be stuck for hours, but luck is with us and we get to Louis Armstrong International with plenty of time for a drink in the bar before boarding. We%26#39;re a little bit late taking off which concerns me because we have a tight connection as it is. Things should be okay though. The nice lady at AirTran this morning assured me that our connecting flight in Atlanta would most certainly be departing from gate C 12 a short stroll from where we would be landing. Surely we can manage a couple of hundred feet in twenty minutes. And we probably could have, except that, once on the ground, we discover that our flight to New York would now be departing from Concourse D located some ten miles from where we now stood. The helpful guy who gave us this wonderful info was not sympathetic. Instead he barked at me that I better move it and move it fast because there was no way they would be holding the plane for us. What a sweetheart.
I can tell you right now that Atlanta Hartsfield is a big airport, huge in fact. Getting from Concourse C to Concourse D requires a tram ride and a lot of running. I%26#39;m not built for running and provided a lot of comic relief to a bunch of bored people hanging around waiting for their flights as I flapped, bounced and puffed past on my way to our gate.
Glory be, the plane is still there! Thank you God, thank you, thank you, thank you! We climb aboard, all flustered and out of breath and find our seats. We made it! I buckled up and waited for the plane to pull away from the gate. We waited and waited and waited some more. The pilot finally came on the speaker to tell us ';Sorry for the delay, folks, but we%26#39;re waiting for a few passengers to make it over from...'; (Guess where? Come on, you know that you know, have a guess. That%26#39;s right, I almost had a heart attack running to get on a plane that is now delayed waiting for, you got it, passengers from our first flight.) They eventually all stroll aboard looking calm and unhurried. One lady even has a take-out box from Chili%26#39;s. We finally pulled away from the gate almost an hour late. Does anyone actually like flying?
(I will say one nice thing about AirTran, though. They carry XMRadio on board and XM was broadcasting the Sugar Bowl. So, I had a drink and composed myself while Scott listened to the pre-game.)
Our arrival at La Guardia was blessedly uneventful and our checked bag made it just fine. Here%26#39;s the part where I decided to not listen to the helpful people on this forum. We chose the public transportation over a cab into the city. I figured that for the cost of a cab each way we could each buy a 7 day unlimited Metro pass and still save a few bucks. We bought our passes at the Hudson News and queued up for the Q33 bus which pulled up promptly. Now some people rely on extensive research to navigate a strange city, some people rely on maps, I rely, like Blanche DuBois, on the kindness of strangers. Once on board our bus I searched our fellow passengers for a likely person to guide me to our subway stop. I chose the kid slouching in the seat across from me. He was a typical teenager, baggy pants, I-Pod in the ear, half-asleep look on his face but my only other nearby option was quietly talking to himself in Spanish as he nibbled on his coat sleeve. (Note to the New York novice: Nighttime bus rides can be quite interesting.) So, I woke the kid up and asked him when our stop would be coming up. He lifted one eyelid and told me not for a while before appearing to doze back off. I was considering approaching my sleeve-chewing neighbor when the kid opened the other eye and said ';I%26#39;ll take care of you.'; And take care of us he did. Every time the bus stopped I started up in my seat and every time he leaned over and said ';No, not this one.'; When we finally did reach the station, not only did he let me know, he held the door for us and helped us with our bags. Son, I don%26#39;t know your name, but thank you. Your parents should be proud. So should your city.
The subway, if less personal, was also less confusing and we made it to our stop without any problems. This is where we played our first round of ';Which Way Now?';. It%26#39;s fun. Each of you wants to head in a different direction. I tend go with my gut and information gleaned from random strangers. Hubby likes maps which would be great if he could tell east from west and if our eyesight were better. (I%26#39;m thinking of starting my own cartography line , Maps For Geezers. All of the street numbers would be printed no less than 1/4 inch high.) Back to our game, the rules are you argue and bicker about which way to go until one of you wins and you both head off in the wrong direction. Then the other player gets to gloat about it until next time when they get the chance to send their partner the wrong way down the wrong street. The game is even more fun when one of you is in a BIG HURRY to get to a television right now because the Sugar Bowl is now in progress.
We finally make it to our hotel, The New York Hilton and Towers located at Avenue of the Americas and 53rd Street or at 6th Avenue and 54th Street or at any combination of the above. (Here%26#39;s another nifty bit of info for the novice: Avenue of the Americas and 6th Avenue are the same exact street. The cross street for the Hilton is both 53rd and 54th because this is one ginormous hotel. You definitely ain%26#39;t in Baton Rouge anymore.)
Wow! Does the Hilton ever have a huge lobby! The check-in desk is 50 feet long, easy. 50 feet and two receptionists. I stand in the line while Scott does wind sprints between the desk and the TV in the lobby bar which is tuned into the big game. When my turn rolls around I make my only request: a quiet room away from the elevators, get our keys and head up to the 30th floor. The room%26#39;s fine, if a little tired. Most importantly, it%26#39;s clean, quiet and has a TV. We dump our bags and head to our separate destinations, the Sugar Bowl for Scott and a long, far too hot bath for me.
Jennifer
Oh, by the way, LSU won the game. This made for one happy hubby for the rest of the trip!
Our Anniversary Trip-Getting There
Wow, I am really enjoying your reports thus far! Hilarious! I cannot wait for the next installment.
By the way, I think it is wonderful that your children were willing to take care of your father while you were away. I don%26#39;t know many college aged kids who would do the same thing.
Our Anniversary Trip-Getting There
lmao...this is one of the funniest reports I%26#39;ve read! Love the story about the young lad on the bus.
Btw...I%26#39;m with you on the flying thing --I hate it as well and am convinced that it%26#39;s only my staying awake and bolt upright in my seat that keeps the plane in the air.
Comfyjeans: I do think my kids are absolutely wonderful but I%26#39;m a little prejudiced so thanks for your kind words. My oldest moved in with his grandfather 5 years ago when my mother in law died just so my father in law wouldn%26#39;t be alone. He%26#39;s a special guy
Loving this journey already, Jennifer.
If you are already bickering about the directions in the first subway station - Note to your family - ';Do not register for The Amazing Race';:-)
A successful journey and a happy husband - bring it on girl, I want to hear the rest!
Helen in Aus
150
';Which Way Now?'; - We play this game! I know ask more often than I used to.
Great post.
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