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shannon_aI sit between sneezy and coughy. I've cleansed my hands a few times, but oh do I hate sitting in the middle seat of a plane with two sickly sounding strangers surrounding me.
12 Hours Earlier.
I wake up to susurrus of the wind rushing through the branches outside. It takes me long moments to realize it's actually the rushing thrum of the FDR outside the window. It's faded so far into the background that I now have to concentrate to hear individual cars.
Ah, how the extraordinary so quickly becomes the ordinary.
I take my time leaving the apartment, so it's a little past 9am when I head out. My goal is Randall's Island, which lies a bit to our north. I have about an hour and a half to get there and partway back, before I have my first appointment of the day.
I'm amazed to discover that the FDR goes into a tunnel just north of us. I sorta remember that, as I drove through it on my first night here. It's amazing how much of that has faded, despite it being only 9pm or so California time when I arrived.
Anyhow, a few blocks up I'm able to walk over to a nice, wide stone walkway that runs directly along the East River. (Not a river.) It's pretty high up, so I can't really enjoy the water, but I can enjoy the sight of Queens across the river, and the RFK bridge ahead of me and the Queensboro bridge behind.
(By the sixth day of my NYC trip, I've learned that borough is sometimes spelled boro. And not just by the texting kids.)
As I walk I'm constantly getting spit at from the sky. It's another gloomy, gray morning in NYC. I've got my umbrella and my raincoat, but I never use the umbrella.
Perhaps more amazing, I don't have my backpack. It's the only time I've been out in the wild in NYC without either backpack or the smaller iPad bag I brought for the UN day.
Randall's Island is one of the islands that the RFK Bridge (formerly the Triboro Bridge) crosses over. There's an impressive pedestrian bridge that also leads out to it, and the island is almost all parkland.
Mind you, as with northern Central Park, it's not very impressive park land. It's soccer fields and tennis courts and baseball fields and other such silliness. But, it's got nice views. I walk along the south edge of the island, from the pedestrian bridge to the shadow of the RFK Bridge, and I enjoy it all.
What impresses me the most is that from here a pedestrian (or bicyclist!) can go over additional bridges to Queens or to the Bronx. I'd love to be able to, but time is short.
Alas.
The 11am appointment is a reservation for a tour of Gracie Mansion. That's the home of the mayor of New York. It's a tour that Chris suggested I take, and I'm glad he did (and that the tour day of Tuesdays coincided with my brief free time in the city).
Gracie Mansion is a Federalist-era House (late 1700s), and that's a real treat because we don't have a Federalist era on the left coast. Most of our buildings postdate 1906 with a very few notable exceptions. So, that's the first cool part of the tour, because I'm seeing pretty unfamiliar styles. I like the symmetry of all the rooms the best. I also love the mirrors set across from chandeliers, designed to help reflect the light.
But, it's the docent that really makes the tour shine, because she's very knowledgeable. She's constantly talking about all the mayors of New York who have lived in this house in the last 75 years or so and how each one of them had their own impact on it. Particularly notable is Bloomberg, who did a lot of renovation as he turned it into the "people's house", because he actually had a house of his own over on 79th. However, Gracie Mansion has since reverted to being a mayoral residence, because not all NY mayors can afford to have a big 'ole 12,500 square foot house in the Upper East Side. ("Unfortunately", says the docent, who regrets not getting to tour the upstairs rooms where the family lives, but then she corrects herself and says, "But fortunately we get a mayor who lives in the residence!")
And, I apparently have Gracie Manor to thank for the nice river walkway I enjoyed earlier, because Robert Moses purposefully built the tunnel for the FDR to preserve Gracie Manor.
Overall, the tour was a wonderful bit of history, something that I'm very fond of.
I return to the apartment one last time, gather my stuff, which I'd packed in the morning, then head out.
I walk up to McDonalds for lunch, then hop on the "6" at 86th. At 1.30pm it's still very crowded. I take it down to 51st, where I do my first transfer between lines running on different tracks. It reminds me a lot of similar transfers in London: I walk a couple of blocks, changing levels in between, and then I'm at a different subway line.
I love first-class subway systems! I wish the Bay Area had one!
I take the "E" almost to the end of the line, where I hop off at the station right next to the JFK AirTram.
As in Oakland and San Francisco, the transport system in New York has been built specifically to bilk air travelers of dollars. It costs $2.75 to travel anywhere in New York on the subway system. It's amazing! I take a total of four subway rides during my trip: from Upper East Side to Brooklyn; from the Garment District to Upper Manhattan; from Upper Manhattan to Central Park; and from the Upper East Side to Queens. My total cost is $11.
But to get to the airport, I have to get off in Queens and take a 4.4 mile tramway for a total cost of $5.
It's ridiculous. I don't understand why Oakland did the same thing. (San Francisco did too, but they hide it in a gross BART fee to get to the airport, $9 for me to get there from Berkeley, as opposed to a separate fee.)
Anywho, I have to exit the subway system in Queens.
My luggage and I decide to tour Queens a little bit, because when am I going to be in Queens again? So I walk up the main strip connected ot the subway and tram stations.
It's kind of seedy. Where Manhattan often reminded me of the good parts of San Francisco, Queens instead reminds me of Oakland. There's a tired feel to it, like everyone is just barely holding on. There's also a grungier feel to the people living here.
Meanwhile, t's hot and humid and the rain keeps threatening. I turn back just a couple of short blocks on.
I stop in at a bakery on my way back and am largely ignored for a few minutes. Then the cashier can barely be bothered to take my money. I get three small cookies with chocolate sprinkles for a dollar.
When I eat the first one, it's hard and tasteless.
That's Queens.
I board the tram and see some nicer neighborhoods on the way to the airport, houses all carefully painted and cultivated.
And then I'm at JFK. I barely remember it from last Thursday. I thought it would be hugely intimidating but it's not, perhaps because it's broken up into multiple terminals.
They're numbered 1-8, though I find it odd that two of them, 3 and 6 I think, don't exist. Anywho, I get off at 5 and head to the JetBlue desks.
There's a long line to drop off my bag, then a long line to get through security. It takes about 40 minutes all told, including a personal patdown since I refuse to use the cancer machines.
Such service!
as I walk up to my gate, I notice that right next door is the previous jet to SF, which gets in two hours earlier. The sign says, "Closing".
I am fearless due to years of watching The Amazing Race. I step up to the desk and ask if I can switch to the two hours' earlier flight.
The attendant checks and it's obvious that the answer is yes, but he says, "You know that means you'll have to come back for your luggage, yes?"
"I guess I didn't think that through very carefully," I say.
"If you don't have luggage it would have been fine," he replies.
I think him very nicely for looking into the possibility, then slink off to the gate next door. I figure that I have plenty of research, writing, and reading to do anyway.
That plane was totally sour.
Amazing Racers don't have luggage.
12 Hours Earlier.
I wake up to susurrus of the wind rushing through the branches outside. It takes me long moments to realize it's actually the rushing thrum of the FDR outside the window. It's faded so far into the background that I now have to concentrate to hear individual cars.
Ah, how the extraordinary so quickly becomes the ordinary.
I take my time leaving the apartment, so it's a little past 9am when I head out. My goal is Randall's Island, which lies a bit to our north. I have about an hour and a half to get there and partway back, before I have my first appointment of the day.
I'm amazed to discover that the FDR goes into a tunnel just north of us. I sorta remember that, as I drove through it on my first night here. It's amazing how much of that has faded, despite it being only 9pm or so California time when I arrived.
Anyhow, a few blocks up I'm able to walk over to a nice, wide stone walkway that runs directly along the East River. (Not a river.) It's pretty high up, so I can't really enjoy the water, but I can enjoy the sight of Queens across the river, and the RFK bridge ahead of me and the Queensboro bridge behind.
(By the sixth day of my NYC trip, I've learned that borough is sometimes spelled boro. And not just by the texting kids.)
As I walk I'm constantly getting spit at from the sky. It's another gloomy, gray morning in NYC. I've got my umbrella and my raincoat, but I never use the umbrella.
Perhaps more amazing, I don't have my backpack. It's the only time I've been out in the wild in NYC without either backpack or the smaller iPad bag I brought for the UN day.
Randall's Island is one of the islands that the RFK Bridge (formerly the Triboro Bridge) crosses over. There's an impressive pedestrian bridge that also leads out to it, and the island is almost all parkland.
Mind you, as with northern Central Park, it's not very impressive park land. It's soccer fields and tennis courts and baseball fields and other such silliness. But, it's got nice views. I walk along the south edge of the island, from the pedestrian bridge to the shadow of the RFK Bridge, and I enjoy it all.
What impresses me the most is that from here a pedestrian (or bicyclist!) can go over additional bridges to Queens or to the Bronx. I'd love to be able to, but time is short.
Alas.
The 11am appointment is a reservation for a tour of Gracie Mansion. That's the home of the mayor of New York. It's a tour that Chris suggested I take, and I'm glad he did (and that the tour day of Tuesdays coincided with my brief free time in the city).
Gracie Mansion is a Federalist-era House (late 1700s), and that's a real treat because we don't have a Federalist era on the left coast. Most of our buildings postdate 1906 with a very few notable exceptions. So, that's the first cool part of the tour, because I'm seeing pretty unfamiliar styles. I like the symmetry of all the rooms the best. I also love the mirrors set across from chandeliers, designed to help reflect the light.
But, it's the docent that really makes the tour shine, because she's very knowledgeable. She's constantly talking about all the mayors of New York who have lived in this house in the last 75 years or so and how each one of them had their own impact on it. Particularly notable is Bloomberg, who did a lot of renovation as he turned it into the "people's house", because he actually had a house of his own over on 79th. However, Gracie Mansion has since reverted to being a mayoral residence, because not all NY mayors can afford to have a big 'ole 12,500 square foot house in the Upper East Side. ("Unfortunately", says the docent, who regrets not getting to tour the upstairs rooms where the family lives, but then she corrects herself and says, "But fortunately we get a mayor who lives in the residence!")
And, I apparently have Gracie Manor to thank for the nice river walkway I enjoyed earlier, because Robert Moses purposefully built the tunnel for the FDR to preserve Gracie Manor.
Overall, the tour was a wonderful bit of history, something that I'm very fond of.
I return to the apartment one last time, gather my stuff, which I'd packed in the morning, then head out.
I walk up to McDonalds for lunch, then hop on the "6" at 86th. At 1.30pm it's still very crowded. I take it down to 51st, where I do my first transfer between lines running on different tracks. It reminds me a lot of similar transfers in London: I walk a couple of blocks, changing levels in between, and then I'm at a different subway line.
I love first-class subway systems! I wish the Bay Area had one!
I take the "E" almost to the end of the line, where I hop off at the station right next to the JFK AirTram.
As in Oakland and San Francisco, the transport system in New York has been built specifically to bilk air travelers of dollars. It costs $2.75 to travel anywhere in New York on the subway system. It's amazing! I take a total of four subway rides during my trip: from Upper East Side to Brooklyn; from the Garment District to Upper Manhattan; from Upper Manhattan to Central Park; and from the Upper East Side to Queens. My total cost is $11.
But to get to the airport, I have to get off in Queens and take a 4.4 mile tramway for a total cost of $5.
It's ridiculous. I don't understand why Oakland did the same thing. (San Francisco did too, but they hide it in a gross BART fee to get to the airport, $9 for me to get there from Berkeley, as opposed to a separate fee.)
Anywho, I have to exit the subway system in Queens.
My luggage and I decide to tour Queens a little bit, because when am I going to be in Queens again? So I walk up the main strip connected ot the subway and tram stations.
It's kind of seedy. Where Manhattan often reminded me of the good parts of San Francisco, Queens instead reminds me of Oakland. There's a tired feel to it, like everyone is just barely holding on. There's also a grungier feel to the people living here.
Meanwhile, t's hot and humid and the rain keeps threatening. I turn back just a couple of short blocks on.
I stop in at a bakery on my way back and am largely ignored for a few minutes. Then the cashier can barely be bothered to take my money. I get three small cookies with chocolate sprinkles for a dollar.
When I eat the first one, it's hard and tasteless.
That's Queens.
I board the tram and see some nicer neighborhoods on the way to the airport, houses all carefully painted and cultivated.
And then I'm at JFK. I barely remember it from last Thursday. I thought it would be hugely intimidating but it's not, perhaps because it's broken up into multiple terminals.
They're numbered 1-8, though I find it odd that two of them, 3 and 6 I think, don't exist. Anywho, I get off at 5 and head to the JetBlue desks.
There's a long line to drop off my bag, then a long line to get through security. It takes about 40 minutes all told, including a personal patdown since I refuse to use the cancer machines.
Such service!
as I walk up to my gate, I notice that right next door is the previous jet to SF, which gets in two hours earlier. The sign says, "Closing".
I am fearless due to years of watching The Amazing Race. I step up to the desk and ask if I can switch to the two hours' earlier flight.
The attendant checks and it's obvious that the answer is yes, but he says, "You know that means you'll have to come back for your luggage, yes?"
"I guess I didn't think that through very carefully," I say.
"If you don't have luggage it would have been fine," he replies.
I think him very nicely for looking into the possibility, then slink off to the gate next door. I figure that I have plenty of research, writing, and reading to do anyway.
That plane was totally sour.
Amazing Racers don't have luggage.