Friday

One of the 9/11 Memorial Pools

One whole week in New York City. I had an early morning start to get down to the 9/11 memorial for my 10am ticket. It wasn’t happening. My body had had enough and just wanted to stay in bed. I struggled to wake up, and struggled to get out of the apartment on time. I made it, I did cut it fine, and only just got to the Memorial queue at around ten past ten. They still let me in, and I joined the queue. Around 30 minutes of standing in line, and going through the security process. I hadn’t brought an umbrella, and it started to rain slightly. I walked around both of the pools, and finally after 10 years of visiting New York City, realised the vastness of the site. It choked me. It was just astounding, and I was speechless.

I don’t really need to say any more, but I just don’t get people taking photographs of their other halves smiling in front of the pool. It just seems a bit crass.

Onwards. It took me a good 40 minutes to walk around both pools slowly, and by then it was time to meet up with someone else that I’d intended to on my previous trip. Tour Guide Stan O’Connor. We had arranged back in March to meet up, but that didn’t happen, and with other friends wanting to meet me, I rearranged my trip, and forgot to meet with Stan earlier in the week. As I was walking up to meet Stan, I had a conversation with my mother at home. I told her, that for once, I had felt that I had “done” NYC, and that I was ready to come home. That is so unlike me, I’m normally always planning my next trip, but this time, I was happy to have done what I had done, and a hell of a lot it was, and I was ready to head home. It was a nice feeling, to think that I’d done NYC justice, unlike in March of this year, where I burnt myself out too early.

Stan was standing near the WTC, and as arranged, we met just around 11am. The rain had eased up, and we sat on the wall just outside St Pauls Chapel on Church/Fulton Street. He told me more about what work he does, how many tours he’s doing, and the quiet times of year where the tourist trade dries up.

We also chatted about an update to his website, which he struggles to updates. I offered to design him a new website, and he accepted. This is currently a work in progress, and over the coming months, I’m updating the site he’s currently got, while we perfect the new wordpress based site. This will enable Stan to update his own website as and when he needs, and hopefully get even more tours going on. I can’t wait to work alongside Stan, and I hope I can make his website awesome. The rain had started up again, and Stan offered me an umbrella. I politely refused, something which I would regret later on the same day.

After our conversation, I headed up the road to Mudville 9. It was, to coin a British term, drizzling. It wasn’t bad. After a quick detour due to a closed sidewalk, I arrived at the best wings place in New York. Beer, Lunch, Beer, and watching the rain, which was now hammering it down. I had nothing planned for the day. I was to just relax, and head back to the apartment to pack up, and leave NYC.

I planned my moment, to leave, and take the short 50 feet walk from the door of Mudville 9 to the 1/2/3 at Chambers Street. I was soaked. It was going to get worse.

I made it through to Bedford Ave, and planned to have a few more beers before packing up. I ignored Spike Hill, which was a mistake, and walked down to 4th Down. It wasn’t open yet. Damn! I carried on walking down to the apartment, and the rain got worse. Really bad. It was warm though, so it wasn’t overly bad. By the time I was at the apartment, I was dripping. My t-shirt I was wearing was soaked to the skin. I actually wrang it out in the bath and the amount of water that was coming out of it.

I leisurely packed my case, and knew it would be overweight. Wet clothes, and I couldn’t be bothered carrying things with me in my hand luggage. I headed out of the apartment, and down to Banter for a few final beers, and a chat with the bartender I met one week previous. My flight was 8:30pm. I thought I had done well with the amount of money I had spent, and was contemplating a car service. I resisted that, thanks to my mad planning and having exactly $7.25 left on my MetroCard. It was only a 10 minute walk down to Marcy Ave, and the lift was working perfectly. Step Free from Marcy Avenue, through to JFK.

I hopped on the AirTrain at Jamaica through to Terminal 1, and got off. A train pulled straight in on the all Terminals Loop, and I went around to T8. I was pleasantly pleased that worked out well.

Got to T8, Checked in, and at the bag drop was asked to take 7lbs out of my case. I said I didn’t want to, and was willing to pay the excess bag charge of $60. The agent told me, it was “much more than that” and I showed her the webpage on my iPhone that stated $60. She relented, charged my $60, and I was on my way. I was hoping that the case would make it intact back to the UK, as I had a few fragile items in there. I blame Mel for them!

Through security in about 20 minutes, I don’t know how some people fly, they are just so disorganised and slow when it comes to getting to security. Hit the bar in the airport, and my vacation was complete. Ate, Drank, and got  a buy back (in the airport!), before heading to my flight, and squeezing myself in those awful American Airline Seats again.

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