Early Bird Dashes and Perfume Pit Stops
Waking up at the ungodly hour of 5:00 AM—clearly a time only reserved for the brave and the caffeinated—we embarked on a journey from Manchester to New York, fueled more by excitement than a restful night’s sleep. The mission: to dodge the notorious rush-hour traffic. First stop, my daughter Sam’s, to bid adieu to our trusty car. Even at this unearthly hour, we managed to rouse Harry from his slumber, who, in turn, graced me with a big, bold, and slightly delirious smile.
Skipping a good chunk of our coffee—thanks to the prompt arrival of our taxi—it was a mad dash to Manchester Airport. The coffee deprivation was a small sacrifice for the adventure that awaited us across the Atlantic.
Security Shenanigans and a Complimentary Bar Extravaganza
Delta, our chosen airborne chariot, welcomed us with open arms—or rather, open overhead compartments. Post-check-in, hunger beckoned, but Michele, in a strategic detour, navigated the duty-free area with precision, making a pit stop at the perfume stands. Breakfast could wait; a scent expedition was in order.
The security checkpoint, however, had different plans for Michele’s handbag. It was selected for an encore screening, prompting eye rolls and a subtle search for rubber gloves. Michele, at this point, was half-expecting a “squat and cough” command. The joys of modern travel!
Boarding commenced, and while I strolled nonchalantly towards my seat, Michele found herself, once again, in the clutches of security. Bag and shoes scrutinized—only missing element: the theatricality of rubber gloves. Oh, the glamour of air travel!
The cabin crew, keen to offset our security drama, greeted us warmly and announced the pièce de résistance: a complimentary bar. Samuel Adams, Blue Moon, Heineken—choices aplenty. Michele, opting for vodka and orange, had her priorities sorted. Delta wasn’t just about flying; it was about flying in style.
Taxi Twists and Turns: The $59 Adventure
Touchdown at JFK Airport marked the beginning of the “queue saga.” Passport control? A breeze. Yellow cab taxi? A saga. The fixed fare of $59 seemed like a reasonable pact with the New York travel gods. Little did we know that our driver would have us questioning our life choices as he navigated the city with a level of swerve that rivaled a roller coaster.
The fixed fare was a relief; the travel sickness, not so much. Who knew a cab ride could turn into an unintentional amusement park experience? Lesson learned: sometimes, it’s not about the destination but the stomach-churning journey.
Hotel Havens and Sleepy Sightseeing
With JFK adventures behind us, we checked into the Affinia, Manhattan—a beacon of comfort in the bustling city. Eager to shake off the travel fatigue, we hit the streets for a quick reconnaissance mission. Times Square, Rockefeller Center, and Bryant Park unfolded before us, their lights a testament to the city that never sleeps.
Our night ended with a triumphant return to the hotel, ready to conquer the following days with well-deserved rest.
Closing Credits: Night All, Until the Next Sleep-Deprived Smile
As we bid farewell to the day, and the city’s lights twinkled outside our window, we embraced the promise of a well-deserved night’s sleep. Little did we know; New York had just begun to weave its magic.
