NYC, day 1 - Getting there is half the fun

The adventure began at about 4 am. For some reason on a work day waking up is impossible, yet on the night before a vacation...well, don't even think about trying to sleep. I forced my eyes shut for another 2 ½ hours, then got up. At precisely 7:30, I sent Paul (my ride to the airport) a quick text message. He was on his way, but factoring in the traffic, we didn't actually get on the road till 8. Not to worry...the flight doesn't leave till 8:50...

As we sped down the interstate, the butterflies in my stomach overpowered my ability to pay attention to our conversation. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a big green sign “General Aviation” whiz by. I calmly pointed this out...and by this I mean I squealed “GENERALAVIATIONGENERALAVIATIONGENERALAVIATION,” waving and pointing wildly. Paul swerved off the road into the patch of dirt that divided us from the interstate and the exit we had just missed, dodged an oncoming car or two, and set us on the path to...something that wasn't the airport. Apparently that “General Aviation” sign referred to something Generral and Aviatory, but not the airport. After another five minutes, Paul corrected our course and soon we were at the airport.

I bolted to the unsufferably long security line, passed through the least populated (but slowest) checkpoint, and scurried to the gate with five minutes to spare.

Fifteen minutes later, after my heart quit racing, a voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that some minor repairs on the cockpit are taking a bit longer than expected. But we should be on our way momentarily.” After nearly an hour delay, the airplane finally moved. Apparently the co-pilot's intercom button was stuck and the maintenance crew couldn't figure out how to put the thing back together.

Miraculously, we touched down only a few minutes late, though for some reason they parked the plane in the middle of nowhere, loaded the passengers on two “People Movers,” and transported us the final 1/8 mile that way. No worries...it's only 4 pm and the show isn't until 7.

90 minutes later, I emerged from the subway in Harlem. Don't worry, that's where I'm staying...on purpose. I called Fabio, my host, and got directions to his apartment, and started walking. A half block later, Fabio joined me and we walked to his apartment, stowed my things, and headed back to the subway. 25 minutes later, I emerged in Times Square and fought my way through the crowd to the Booth Theatre. Sweating profusely, and smelling of a full day of exhausting travel, I plopped down in the front row of the mezzanine.

to be continued...