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3rdragonI was writing a reply to Tonje's journal when I realized that what I was writing was a post in its own right.
So here it is, my little travel saga.
I was quite worried when it was nearly 8:00 at night, and I didn't know how many more hours of NYC traffic we had left until we got to the New York terminal - or how late the last bus to Philadelphia left. I knew that there was one that arrived (in Philly) at 12:10 - and that the next one didn't get there until 6 in the morning. I figured that the trip from NYC to Philly would probably take 3 hours, and if things got to much later I was going to start getting seriously worried about being stuck in the terminal all night.
And that was before I saw the terminal, which was SKETCHY. Both the sketchiest crowded place I have ever been, and the most crowded sketchy place I have ever been. It wasn't - quite - poorly lit, but it was poorly marked, and the (only) information booth was completely deserted. I wound up going 35 gates in the wrong direction before I finally figured out where I was going. And don't get me started on that ridiculous suitcase I had (particularly don't get me started on bathroom breaks while traveling alone with large suitcases). Add to that the probably-homeless and possibly-not-all-there men hanging around who were oh-so-eager to help a confused, alone young woman with her bags. And while I was desperate for someone to tell me where I was going, all my of my instincts were telling me that this was NOT a safe place, and that I was NOT to trust anyone.
Also, the whole system didn't even seem to consider the fact that people might be going through New York City instead of around it. (And why does NYC have to be just there, anyway? My trip would be so much easier if it could have found some other place to be.)
In short, I never realized before how much I like airports. They're so bright and clean and SAFE. Even the most poorly labeled are better than that terminal, where I couldn't even tell if the signs were directing me up the escalator or along on the same level, which is a serious consideration when you're hauling a really heavy and unwieldy suitcase.
I was going to talk about Christmas, but my brother seems to think that I said that he could be on (I don't remember doing so, and I'm more inclined to think that he made up asking rather than that I forgot it, but it's six of one, half a dozen of the other - either way he wants to be on). And it's been a while, so I guess that I'll let him on.
M.
So here it is, my little travel saga.
I was quite worried when it was nearly 8:00 at night, and I didn't know how many more hours of NYC traffic we had left until we got to the New York terminal - or how late the last bus to Philadelphia left. I knew that there was one that arrived (in Philly) at 12:10 - and that the next one didn't get there until 6 in the morning. I figured that the trip from NYC to Philly would probably take 3 hours, and if things got to much later I was going to start getting seriously worried about being stuck in the terminal all night.
And that was before I saw the terminal, which was SKETCHY. Both the sketchiest crowded place I have ever been, and the most crowded sketchy place I have ever been. It wasn't - quite - poorly lit, but it was poorly marked, and the (only) information booth was completely deserted. I wound up going 35 gates in the wrong direction before I finally figured out where I was going. And don't get me started on that ridiculous suitcase I had (particularly don't get me started on bathroom breaks while traveling alone with large suitcases). Add to that the probably-homeless and possibly-not-all-there men hanging around who were oh-so-eager to help a confused, alone young woman with her bags. And while I was desperate for someone to tell me where I was going, all my of my instincts were telling me that this was NOT a safe place, and that I was NOT to trust anyone.
Also, the whole system didn't even seem to consider the fact that people might be going through New York City instead of around it. (And why does NYC have to be just there, anyway? My trip would be so much easier if it could have found some other place to be.)
In short, I never realized before how much I like airports. They're so bright and clean and SAFE. Even the most poorly labeled are better than that terminal, where I couldn't even tell if the signs were directing me up the escalator or along on the same level, which is a serious consideration when you're hauling a really heavy and unwieldy suitcase.
I was going to talk about Christmas, but my brother seems to think that I said that he could be on (I don't remember doing so, and I'm more inclined to think that he made up asking rather than that I forgot it, but it's six of one, half a dozen of the other - either way he wants to be on). And it's been a while, so I guess that I'll let him on.
M.
