nyc 2: getting there

there is a reason i don’t like long distance travel (actually there are several but lets not get bogged down in facts…) and it is you need to be somewhere at a certain time. as emma can attest this is not one of my strongest attributes.
but with herculean effort i dragged myself out of my flat in a timely enough fashion to get me to the airport when i was supposed to be. (true my original plan of hanging around the airport all night would have been better but there was stuff i needed to do and that seemed to take up the whole of saturday).

now i couldn’t catch the tube to either paddington or heathrow because they don’t start until my flight boarded.
but buses to paddington easy.
buses to heathrow? who needs that hassle.
so do i do the 205 straight to paddington or the 25 to tottenham court and catch one of several others?
205 is easier but starts later. 25 a faff but runs all night.
205 it is.
tick tock tick tock no 205. but i have let a 25 go by.
tick tock tick tock no 205 going in the other direction.
bugger it catch the 25 and change.
hop on the next one.
a nervous look at the time. mmm.
now where is the bus stop i need to catch the next bus. obviously it is over there.
get there.
nope it was back there. shit.

come on number 7 (oooh almost a bruce connection) my time is almost up.
ah at last.
get to paddington. now it will be plain sailing. on the heathrow express and there you go sorted.

if only.

one of the heathrow express trains is there. taunting me. it is stranded.
why?
someone is stuck in the loo. he has locked himself in and can’t get out.
wonderful.
tick bloody tock.

phew new train in and i am out.

at the airport.
an imposing busty black woman gives me the eye as i say my plane boards at 8am, with a tsk of her teeth she says 8am is when the doors close. put in my place. but i rescue it with the stuck in the toilet story, she laughs loudly. i have won her over. she gives me directions as to where i need to go.
run pat run.

nice short queue for the check in. but everyone is ignoring the shoes need to be checked. my smelly trainers in my hand, my laptop out. get me through. hurry hurry.

gate 2 here come.
no time for duty free (you lucky people i was going to get a camcorder to do films of me in new york – no cliff not those sorts of films…) , no time for magazines. just enough time for a pee and get some pop.
fucking machine – bad enough you are charge twice what you need for a bottle of coke but you won’t take my money. wank wank wank.
got it.

on the plane. seat is a little cramped. mmm that airhostess rubbed up against me. oh ok she had no option but i’ll pretend she was just hot for me.
flying is dull dull dull (which is better than exciting because you have suddenly become an extra in a disaster movie…). in flight entertainment so so. had a bit of a snooze.

another line. another wait. us customs are doing their finger printing and iris checking. it takes forever. i end up with some wearing blue surgical gloves. i want to scream there is nothing up my arse, but contain myself. he is also going bald on top but has tried to look youthful by spiking the hair up.
all the officials are in uniform and have guns.
a bit scary.

grab my bag.
one last check. family in front of me is waved through. asian guy waved over to another official. i am waved through. make of it what you will.

cab it, bus it or subway it?
oh look there is a direct door-to-door bust thingy, only he isn’t going my way. total tosser. cab it is. great views of the surrounds of new york and of the city itself. but more than anything i arrive at the hotel.
there is a sense of fear as i enter the hotel – you never quite know what you are going to get. but while i didn’t get the jimmy durante room, i am in the milton berle room, i am impressed.

now lets get out there and enjoy nyc.