It took five years or arduous saving to finally get to travel. It had always been a dream of mine but due to the constraints of owning my apartment I could only save little and often. It was somewhat annoying when I had seen other friends of mine save and travel within 6 months of conceiving the idea, but eventually the time had come to set out on my own personal adventure. I was originally going to travel with friends but due to the constraints of everyday life (marriage, careers etc) it soon became obvious that this was going to be a solo trip. I was somewhat apprehensive about this fact to begin with, concerns of loneliness and no one to turn to in times of crisis clouding my thought pattern, but these fears turned out to be totally unfounded.
I set off early from England, waving goodbye to friends and family and for the first time stepping completely into the realms of the unknown. Sure I had seen America on a myriad of television programmes and films but that was hardly the same was it?
I arrived late in the afternoon at JFK, planning on hitting Manhattan before it was dark so that I could at least get accustomed slightly to the sprawling metropolis. Alas due to baggage problems I didn't exit the airport until after 7pm (mid March) and by the time I had negotiated the subway and got out at 52nd street it was dark, oh and it was raining, and cold!
My first thoughts of Manhattan were that it was indeed exactly the same as I had seen in the movies, yellow taxis honking their horns and drivers hanging out of their windows down a congested Broadway. Thousands of people with places to go and no time to get there. Buildings taller and more daunting than mountains, and seemingly far less forgiving. I asked a few people directions, mainly street vendors, and soon realised that many of them either didn't speak English or weren't interested in helping unless you purchased goods from them so I struggled on alone. I had vowed to myself that I would not take a taxi the moment I arrived and would instead navigate my way around the city so that I could get a feel of the place and maybe even see a few sights along the way. After an hour of wandering aimlessly, wet, aching and cold, I swallowed my pride and jumped into one of the famous yellow cabs and headed for my hostel.
On arrival at the hostel I was greeted by the news that the 1 night I had booked could not be extended, due in no small part to the fact that it was St Patrick's day the following day, a fact that I had completely overlooked whilst planning my itinerary. So having negotiated, rather unsuccessfully, my way into Manhattan I would have to leave by 10am the next day. Walking up and down Amsterdam Avenue that night I began questioning exactly why I wanted to travel in the first place. I have subsequently found out however, from speaking to other travellers, that the first day is generally not great and most travellers often ask the questions I was asking myself. I think perhaps the expectations for the first day are always set a little too high and invariably fail to live up to them.
I left the next day to travel 2 hours north to Hartford Connecticut, planning on returning back to New York in a couple of days. I took the first of many Greyhound bus journeys and was pleasantly surprised. After hearing various horror tales of wide eyed homicidal maniacs residing at the backs of the buses and drivers without the ability to converse humanely I was relieved to be greeted by a smiling and courteous bus driver and a bus full of people none of whom seemed to want to eat my liver for breakfast. On top of this there was a free movie showing on the bus, which helped to make the journey even more pleasant. Perhaps this Greyhound travelling lark isn't going to be so bad after all I thought.
Hartford was quaint, officially city size, but it felt more like a small town. Snow which covered the ground when I arrived, added to the picturesque nature of the place. The hostel was located on a tree-lined avenue just across the road from the house Mark Twain called his home for 20 years. The house had been gloriously renovated to look as similar as possible, inside and out, to the way it was when he lived there. Walking around I could almost sense the ghosts of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn skipping around behind me. Most of my time there was spent wandering along through the town, thinking about the fact that I was actually travelling and wondering what the next 3 months would hold for me. I was attempting to write a diary everyday and desperately wanted to get past days 3 and 4, at least into double figures.
I arrived back in New York ready to tackle the Big Apple with vigour. I had 4 days now booked and intended on seeing as much as I could. The first day I spent meeting people in the hostel, making new friends that I was originally worried would never materialise. A group of us went to see an improvised comedy show on Broadway for 5 dollars, so I was happy to have seen a show on Broadway, even if it was about 40 blocks from the official theatre district. Walking back I was again reminded of a thousand films I had seen of New York, police sirens in the distance, smoke rising from the pavement and the occasional alcoholic bum chattering maniacally to the nearest pile of trash that would listen to him.
The next few days continued in a film-like trance. Central park, the Empire state building, the Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, even riding the subway felt as though I was an extra in the latest big screen movie. Standing on top of the Empire State building was the first time I really thought to myself "Wow, I'm really here, I really am living the dream" and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The view from there is amazing, and whilst it is not the tallest building in Manhattan anymore, I think it is the one most synonymous with New York. I certainly took great pleasure in looking down on the world below. Central Park was much bigger than I imagined and whilst it was cold and grey, I could see that in the summer it would be beautiful, a true oasis in the middle of the madness that is Manhattan, although I was reliably informed that at night it takes on a very different hue. I spent some time at the memorial to John Lennon there called Strawberry Fields, located just across the road from the penthouse where he was shot, and took photographs but not of the apartment block itself, a little too macabre for me.
Times Square was another landmark for me. Thousands of people pass through there every day going to and from work, ignoring the glitz and glamour of the place but I stood there captivated for a good while, again just comprehending the fact that I was actually seeing this place in the flesh. The huge neon signs, advertisement hoardings, like everything in New York, hugely oversized and impossible to miss (I guess that's the whole point!). Hard Rock café, the Virgin Megastore and MTV broadcasting studios are all located there and all exactly how I expected and wanted them to be - gaudy and over the top but somehow sublime.
I left New York after 4 days, slightly exhausted by the frenetic pace and "must get on" attitude but very much enamoured with the city as a whole. There is so much to do much of which is free and very easily accessible via the great and cheap public transport system they have. Whilst the subway is not necessarily great at night, policeman are found at most stations and the sheer volume of people makes you feel generally safe. I personally had no real concerns whilst travelling through there which cannot be said for all the American cities I travelled through. At some point in the future I will return, hopefully in the summer to see Central Park in full foliage and so that I don't have to wear 5 layers of clothing just to pop across the road to get pizza. Next on my itinerary was Philadelphia and then Washington D.C.
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