My dad very kindly gave me a lift to Gatwick airport this morning, and all ran smoothly there.
My flight to New York stopped off in Keflavik airport in Iceland and my was that a bit grim and miserable. The thing is, having been to Iceland before, I’ve actually come to accept the harrowing grey skies as part of its appeal and the landscape the country has is unique. Not to mention how very tempted I was to order a pot of the famous Skyr Icelandic yogurt on the plane.
The second connection flight had beautiful views. Part of the way there weren’t any clouds at all, though I had to question myself as the snow covered landscape and icy furrows which I could make out could quite as easily have been clouds if I had squinted.
Well, with all this news coverage about the US’s border entry laws fired up in the news at the moment, I wasn’t expecting a fluid passport control experience. It took almost two hours to get through at Newark Liberty airport. I was so hungry too, I felt faint.
The Newark-Manhattan airport bus, a taxi ride courtesy of my dad’s leftover dollars from his trip to New York (if I wasn’t so tired and hungry I would have definitely braved the subway, even with my rucksack) and a quick dash to a deli shop on a corner in Upper West Side and I am sitting happily in the Jazz on the Park Hostel typing this. Admittedly the sandwich I order was a bit odd – never before have I had grated carrots and cheese together before – but it was delicious.
I’ve done an email to my mum, and even though it’s only 8:30pm local time I’m considering calling it a night; in my defence I did leave at 6am GMT this morning.
I’m thinking that an authentic bagel might be a good breakfast for tomorrow…
(P.S. There are some photos of the flight coming once I sort out my memory card)
(P.P.S. Problems with camera sorted by purchase of a very useful USB cable from DuaneRead shop opposite the Empire State Building and pictures have now been uploaded)