Travel


This post was originally written on my SideKick @ 7.20am EDT (10/20)

I had two hours to kill before meeting a friend for dinner at Cafe Boulud earlier this week so I decided to visit a few places on my NYC hit list which were en route. Walking down 6th Avenue made me realize what it is that I love about NYC: the rushed crowds inside Penn Station, hustling to make their trains after a frantic day at the office; the tourists wandering around with their guides and maps in awe of the tall buildings or carrying armfuls of shopping bags; the runners weaving in and out of traffic avoiding both pedestrians and taxi cabs alike; the diversity of faces all coexisting in the same urban jungle. I could go on and on.

There’s a part of me which lives in NYC and LI. Whether it’s my puppy dog devotion to the Mets or my professed love that is public transit, I truly believe that no amount of living in California could ever compete with my attachment to NY. Does this mean that I will eventually find myself residing in an Upper East Side apartment? Probably not. I’ve put down enough roots in California that I probably will be there for a long time.

During dinner with another friend last night at Union Square Cafe, we talked a little bit about living in NYC. She’s lived in a lot of different places during her life so we talked about how living in the city for the past 4 years has compared with other locales. One thing she mentioned which I never thought about was that NYC was a great walking city. She’s right of course. Knowing that Cafe Boulud was on 76th near Madison told me that it was 42 streets and 3 avenues away from Penn Station and that two hours was plenty of time to not only walk there but to make a stop at an H&M on 42nd and 5th and a tea shop on 51st and Lexington. You just don’t find that perfect grid anywhere else.

Living in NY isn’t for everyone. The pace of life, the sounds, sights and smells of the city are unlike anywhere else. I would love to live in the city for a year just to see what it’s like. What would life be like not having a car? Would I grow fat and flabby in the middle of one of the world’s best restaurant scenes? Would I grow to be constantly angry like my cute flight seat neighbor?

It’s been a nice week. Besides my two excursions into Manhattan I had the chance to meet up with an old college friend who I hadn’t seen in something like 6 or 7 years. I spent some time with my family and it was all good, even those two days spent painting the house. I wish I had more time to visit, but it’s nice to know that no matter how much time I spend here in California, NY will always be there with open arms to welcome home one of its prodigal sons.

Oi, I’m currently stuck in Chicago sitting on my plane to Manchester waiting for fuel. Apparently, the contractors working the fuel trucks decided to conduct a sick-in. Add in frigid temps (10 degrees as of an hour ago) and frozen fuel lines and well, you can imagine the chaos and delays.

I didn’t think I was going to make this flight because while my flight out of SJC arrived 13 minutes early, we sat in a holding area with a buttload of other planes for over an hour waiting for our gate to open. I powerwalked over to my gate and discovered that they hadn’t boarded yet.

Phew! Now my hopefully my bag will make it!

Oi! The pilots are averaging 2 hours waiting for fuel. Blech..

Update (3.00pm CST): The fuel truck is here! Yay