Nothing to declare

The New York adventure began with a shocking start to the day.  6am up and ready to leave at 6.15am.  Uber to the airport.  Packed my gym kit as there is apparently a Goodlife at Terminal 1 (where I was) – unfortunately there were no signs and staff seemed unaware of its existence or said its not in this Terminal.  I managed to print my own boarding card at the booth, work my way through miles of queues (one being entertained by singing airport staff and another with a crazily cheerful lady supervising – I didn’t know that kind of happiness existed), be shifted into the special line for non Canadians, get through the scanners (everyone had to take their shoes off to go through the X-ray machine) and made my way to departures, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the familiar Tim Hortons sign.

It’s kind of emotional thinking that this is where the whole adventure began almost exactly 7 months ago.  It seems like years since I was at Trish and Bills.  

I got a window seat with extra legroom in the emergency exit seats which was nice to find when I boarded.  The lady came and had a talk with us about our responsibilities in case of any plane related dramas.  I have been in emergency exit seats before but never had a special talk on opening the doors and when to do it.  She said we could move if we felt uncomfortable with it.  I’m not entirely sure about this responsibility, however, the leg room was a deciding factor in staying put.

Things got a bit crazy since my pleasant plane ride and a series of unpleasant events began.  It all started when I couldn’t get the Uber app to work at the airport, got a yellow cab to my Airbnb, bit pricier, but not the end of the world…. In cab, receive text from Airbnb host, can’t check in just after 10am as arranged, will have to be 12.  Not ideal, but I wait for her outside the apartment until 1230pm.  She is not responding to my messages.  Spend insane amount on data and calls locating alternative accommodation.  Worry Dad by letting him know what’s occurring.  Scare boy in bong shop I am stood in charging phone by being dangerously close to tears.  Head for hostel that has a private room tonight.  Contact Airbnb – not sure why?  Airbnb were absolutely fantastic and offer to pay for lunch while I  calm down, taxi and room for tonight.  Girl was lovely.  After a talking to from Airbnb, host offers me a 2pm check in and a partial refund for the inconvenience.  Declined.  Check in to hostel. 

Book Uber, get stuck in traffic on way to Rockefella centre – takes about 15 mins longer than if I walked.  By this time of day, tickets to the top are sold out for a few hours.  Book ticket for Sunday morning.

Finally, after all this, the adventure started to take good shape, but that is another story for another day. 



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