I ♥ NYC

So NYC was fabulous, but getting there wasn’t a high note of our adventure… it consisted of navigating the Mexico City metro for almost 2 hours, getting lost with 30kgs of luggage each, and walking through a relatively dodgy looking area where the smell of weed wafted in the air, but I’ll start at the beginning.

The afternoon before our flight, we moved hostels to be closer to the airport so we only had to wake up at 0330 the next day for our 6-something flight. Underestimating firstly the amount of time it would take to get to the airport metro station, and how packed the peak hour Mexican metro is, the journey was not a happy one. It began with me turning around as the doors on the metro closed behind me to see Slurry’s face pressed up on the other side of the glass. Luckily, we were only going one stop before changing lines, so it was easy to find each other at the next station, but things really went downhill from there.

The Mexican metro is very easy to navigate, but the lines are a bit wonky. There is no direct line from the city centre of the airport – we had to make at least 4 changes to get there. After a good 2 hours of travelling on the overflowing metro, with backs broken and souls cracking, we finally arrived at the airport metro station. As a result of crappy signage however, we exited the station on the wrong side. After being directed by a policeman to go back the way we came, we realised we could not get back into the metro to cross to the other side. We needed to buy another two tickets. While only the equivalent of 30 Australian cents, we didn’t have a coin to our names, and when there was no guard around to ask to let us through, my blood began to boil. Luckily for us, a business man passing by saw our struggle, and without us even asking, or looking in his direction, he very kindly swiped the both of us through the turnstile. Onwards we stomped, a little happier knowing that there are such friendly people in the world, but still dying under the weight of our packs. The next drama was not far away, in fact it probably began 300 metres or so later when we couldn’t tell what the ‘end of the airport’ was - where our crappy directions to the hostel told us to turn left. After navigating our way through two carparks, and across about four roads, we found what was meant by the end of the airport, which wasn’t anything like the ‘end of the airport’ to me. Good directions… Luckily you can’t really stuff up telling people to walk straight up the hill for 5 blocks, so we easily made it the rest of the way to our hostel where we collapsed in a heap, only to be revived by our last Corornas and tacos dorados (hard rolled tacos stuffed with chicken or beef) in Mexico for a grand total of AUD3.

Though we were absolutely exhausted from our expedition we somehow managed to lose track of time - at 130am we were still awake and our wake up call was happening at 330. So, with pretty much no sleep, when the alarm squawked at us at 330am we rolled ourselves out of bed and headed off down the dark, barely lit street to the airport. There was no one around, except for heaps of sleepy dogs snoozing in the middle of the road, and two stoned idiots who greeted us with a polite ‘good morning’ in English as we took a wide birth around them under the watchful eye of a police car that had stopped close to them to keep an eye out for us. Well, we assume that is what they were doing, but then you’re warned not to go anywhere near the Mexican police so whether or not that was the case, or whether they were as or more dodgy than the guys smoking weed, I guess I’ll never know.

We weren’t looking forward to our two flights that day – into Dallas, Texas and then onto NYC – having to fly with American Airlines. Seriously, they should be classified as a budget airline. They make you pay for everything from food to blankets! They didn’t redeem themselves by leaving without us and with our bags, even though they knew we and about 10 others were coming from a connecting flight. I thought American Airlines would be the most pedantic about not having baggage and no passenger on a plane, but no, off they flew with all our stuff as we waited (only 30 minutes thankfully) for the next flight to NYC. On the upside, we flew into La Guardia and our bags went to JFK so, in a way, it was a blessing in disguise, because that meant our bags were delivered to our hotel and not only did we not have to carry them, we didn’t look like idiots who couldn’t afford to be there as we trudged into the hotel lobby to check-in.

So I’ve finally made it to NYC, after more than 10 years dying to go and I have to say I ♥ it. It is such an amazingly vibrant, chic, and happening city. With fantastic food, fabulous clothes, museums and every other thing your heart desires (a blessed change from Central and South America), I would move there in a second if I had the opportunity!

 

Our four days were made even more fabulous by my birthday present that put us up in a hotel in amongst the action in Times Square. With fluffy slippers, dressing gowns, body lotion in the shower and cable TV, I was in heaven. And I’d safely put money on the bed being the comfiest I will sleep in the entire trip.

   

We saw Wicked on Broadway which was amazing; we went to the Top of the Rock to get a view of the whole of Manhattan including the Empire State building; we strolled through Central Park; and we ordered room service. We explored Brooklyn and ate Dim Sum; and caught the Staten Island Ferry to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. We got NYC haircuts; shopped at Bloomingdales; got lost in the MET; went out in the East Village; wandered through the lobby of the Plaza Hotel; and ate Magnolia Bakery cupcakes after sitting on Carrie’s stoop. All in all – an action packed four days.

     

From left: Carrie’s stoop; after seeing Wicked on Broadway; and
stuffing myself with Magnolia Bakery cupcakes

I am sad to be out of Central and South America after almost 8 months of travel, though in some ways it is like we are still there. We are still in the habit of saying ‘gracias’ to people when they serve us food and asking for things in Spanish, like to see the menu. Whoops. I’m wondering how long it will take to revert to speaking to others in English.

But as for NYC - Loved, loved, love it!!

Backpacker in Times Square